Screeching Monkeys and Rain Drops

At my kitchen table with coffee, my Bible, and our family's Gratitude Journal, I have been counting gifts. This is a journey of seeing God's lavished love and counting the ways he shows his beauty.

-Bible, coffee, shadows slanting across a quiet yard
-tiny yellow post-it note verses of God's truth and peace; rain droplets beaded up on plastic yellow seat in January; sunrise glories
-rain turning to snow before my eyes
-droplets suspended like diamonds from bike handles
-French phrases beside me as daughter soaks it in and learns
-monkey screeches below me as three year old distracts sixteen year old from his school
-my Bible beside me -- God's word ready to teach, instruct, inspire

Closing the gifts notebook, I turned to my Bible where the yellow post-it notes mark my place. Isaiah 55 picks up where I left off yesterday.

 "Why spend ... your labor on what does not satisfy? Listen, listen to me, and eat what is good, and your soul will delight in the richest of fare. Give ear and come to me; hear me, that your soul may live..."

"..As the rain and the snow come down from heaven and do not return to it without watering  the earth and making it bud and flourish, so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater,

so is my word that goes out from my mouth; it will not return to me empty, but will accomplish what I desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it.

You will go out in joy and be led forth in peace;

 the mountains and the hills will burst into song before you, and all the trees of the field will clap their hands. Instead of the thornbush will grow the pine tree, and instead of briars the myrtle will grow.

This will be for the Lord's renown, for an everlasting sign, which will not be destroyed" (verses 2, 3, 10-13).

Outside my window, the rain and snow continue to fall, soaking into the olive green lawn, soaking into me.

What about you? What have you been reading and thinking about this week? What is soaking into you today?

(Photos from Microsoft clipart)

French Ink on Skin

His muscular hands have always been beautiful to me.

In my first year of college, we were just getting to know each other, and learning to trust. Love was a fledgling word, afraid to be voiced aloud. It shimmered instead through our eyes, wonderingly. We determined that once said, it should mean commitment --not a word to be bantered with.

So the word grew inside.

We conversed for hours, a group of us on the third floor student center. People wandered away, left for their dorm rooms, and still he and I talked.

My third culture kid heart still dreamt in French, missed the Alps, and reminisced about West African food. He was from Duluth – with stories of blizzard snowstorms hiding cars for three days, and frost capable of freezing your eyelashes shut.

We spoke of futures, wondering if they would meld, and I sketched French phrases on his hand. “Suis-je la tienne? Es-tu le mien?” (Am I yours? Are you mine?) French ink asking the questions I wondered. Could someone really love and commit to someone else for life? Was it safe to trust and hope?

These penned phrases came to mind again recently when I read some verses in Isaiah.

One will say, 'I belong to the Lord’… still another will write on his hand, ‘The Lord’s.’

Later, God vows, ...I will not forget you! See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands. Study notes say that the word "engraved" here means "carved into." The Creator has carved our names onto his hands.

The rolled parchment of Isaiah was written in the 700s BC. Jump ahead three hundred years later to a carpenter with strong, calloused hands striding along cobbled Roman roads. In a room crowded with people and a table spread with Middle Eastern fare, he laid his hands wide. "See the carvings in my hand?" he asked. Put your finger here; see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it into my side. Stop doubting and believe.

I belong to Him. It's written on my hand, and carved into His.

And the college man? He types here beside me, and together we learn daily how to love each other like our Creator loves us.

What about you? What helps you remember whose you are? What have you been reading or pondering lately?

An Espresso Machine Between the Eyes

Recently, my sister and I met in a Scandinavian bakery on a snowy night. Huge snowflakes covered our cars within minutes, and I laughed as I tried to catch snowflakes on my tongue while walking in. Partway through the night, fearful shrieks and a hissing noise cut through the calm cafe. The espresso machine was malfunctioning dangerously and two female baristas scrambled to turn off the machine and get out of the way. Mixed coffee drinks were off the menu until a repairman could arrive.

That image returned to my mind this week as I was studying Isaiah. (You, my reader friends, know that we have been talking about Isaiah often, including here, here, and here as it leaks onto the blog from my time in God's word these last few months.) Anyway, Isaiah 43:7 delineates, "Everyone who is called by my name, whom I created for my glory, whom I formed and made," and verses 21-24 continue that thought with "...the people I formed for myself that they may proclaim my praise."

"YET, you have not called upon me, O Jacob,
           you have not wearied yourself for me, O Israel.
           You have not brought me sheep for burnt offerings,
                           nor honored me with your sacrifices.

I have not burdened you with grain offerings,
          nor wearied you with demands for incense.

You have not bought any fragrant calamus for me,
                or lavished on me the fat of your sacrifices.

BUT you have burdened me with your sins,
          and wearied me with your offenses."

Wow... I circled and reviewed the verses, scrawling quickly across my journal. The mirror poetry and words were powerful to me.

Along with the Jewish nation, God formed us so we could proclaim his praise. 
But, very often, I/ we?
        we don't fulfil our purpose.
        We don't call on him.
        We don't weary ourselves for him.
        We don't bring him sacrifices of our time, energy, or money as praise for him.
        We haven't honored him with our tithes, when we do give.

He says HE hasn't placed burdensome or wearisome demands on us -- his creations.

He says we/I haven't made an effort to spend time connecting with him in prayer (calamus is linked with incense and prayer), or lavished on him the best part of my time, energy, resources, as extravagant praise to him.

Rather, we -- I --burdened him with my sins, and
                          wearied him with my offenses.

Wow! Where do you go when a gentle God lays it on the line like this? What's next when he so boldly, plainly lays it bare?

We malfunctioned. We did not deliver. We are a broken product.

Silence. Sadness. A still quiet. He's right. My pen stopped writing and I sat in silence. He's right.

What words are next? His mouth opens and the very next verse spills out like water in the desert.

"I, even I, am he who blots out your transgressions, for my own sake, and remembers your sins no more" (vs. 25).

Forgiveness, grace, and a restoration that humbles me.

The repairman has come and gone, and I am working properly now. I will proclaim his praises. Thank you, God.

This journal and Bible time may have just been for me this week. But it hit me, and I pray that God uses it mightily in your life too. Humbly, sitting quietly and happily proclaiming his praise, I'm your Jennifer. I'd love to hear what is on your brain this week, or how I can pray with you.

Mornings, Trains, and Crimson Cherry Tea

Toppling brightly-colored blocks, winding wooden train tracks, and engaging in occasional property disputes, my youngest plays happily alongside his older cousins. The next generation of kids are willowy grown up teens, who can drive away for shopping runs, and descend into the basement for music jam sessions. Guitar, piano, voice and violin meld in worship songs that we can hear and hum along to upstairs. Family board games, movie nights on the couch, and relaxed multi-generational conversations are also what makes this vacation time with relatives so sweet.

Hot crimson cherry tea or fresh ground fair trade Ethiopian coffee are both welcome accompaniments for escaped times in God's word. Reading, working through my newest Beth Moore Bible study book, or just time in the book of Isaiah refresh and rejeuvenate me.

LORD, be gracious to us;
we long for you.
Be our strength every morning, [...]

The LORD is exalted, for he dwells on high;
he will fill Zion with his justice and righteousness.
He will be the sure foundation for your times,
a rich store of salvation and wisdom and knowledge;
the fear of the LORD is the key to this treasure. (Isaiah 33:2, 5-6)

What are you drinking right now, and what have you been reading this week?

Naked Trees Scrape the Horizon

Navy blue light creeps higher in the sky, allowing naked trees to scrape the horizon. Hot coffee in morning twilight, and my three year old son’s truck noises get progressively louder. For the sake of sleepers, I shush him. 

Earlier this week, my peace was eroded as well. It wasn’t the noise – that I was used to with three kids! It was internally. Two weeks ago, I resigned from a part-time job where I had served for thirteen years. It was the right decision so I could have more time with my kids and homeschooling, and we felt peace about it. On Tuesday, though, the reality of it sunk in. Whew, what had I done?! Given up a stable job? 

Grabbing my Bible, journal, and a freshly-brewed cup of hot coffee, I pulled up the kitchen chair to sit at my Abba Father’s feet. “Will you meet with me here today in your word? Will you bring fresh peace for me, Lord?” 

Here’s the kicker. Poor God. For my Bible reading I am in Isaiah, which I am loving, but the chapter I was about to start was Isaiah 28, about judgment coming on wicked kings. Now without bending the original intent of the text, how was he going to bring peace to his worried child at a kitchen table in 2011? 

The story pulled me in. God, the master Writer, wove in poetry, prophecy, play on words, historical accounts, and warnings in truth.  He told his people that he was going to rise up dramatically, supernaturally, citing examples in the past where he did miraculous things, fighting their battles in ways that only he could. The Storyteller described fields that were churned and turned upside down, plowed, threshed, plowed under again – ripping up the old, preparing for the new. The Farmer planted, waited and then threshed anew. Some crops only came through rough threshing techniques, but there was fruit after the hard work. Wrapping up the chapter and description, he spoke: “All this comes from the Lord Almighty, wonderful in counsel and magnificent in wisdom.” 

My pen scraped across lined paper, responding to him. I wrote and talked to Him, wondering, pondering, praying. Whatever God is speaking to you or me, know this. He does speak, he does bring peace, and his character is to be trusted, throughout the centuries and ages. 

What about you? Where have you been reading in God’s word lately? 

The winner of Kimberly Rae’s “Stolen Woman” book giveaway is Susan Panzica@Eternity Cafe. Susan, please email me with your address so I can mail this to you. 

Pansies, Justice, and Spilled Humanity

Hot fair trade coffee in my black and steel mug. Daniel's discarded last orange slice beside me, in fragrance fresh. A cluster of cheerful lavender and tangerine pansies crowd a short goblet down the counter from me. I journal and read God's word while my kids sleepily watch Ponyo in the adjoining room.

Cheerful harmony failed, flopped miserably, on the drive up here the other day, resulting in tears, shame, and silence. Apologies, hugs, whispered committments throughout the day, a resolve to get more sleep and now a need to get into God's word. Chapter five in Isaiah is intriguing me right now. God made his perfect vineyard (Israel and Judah, i.e His People. Now we qualify too for future issues), giving them everything they would need to flourish and produce good results and fruit. But when he looked back at his garden of delight, looking for two things... he didn't find them. He came looking for:
-justice but found bloodshed
-righteousness but found distress.

Cool play on words here that ryhme, the study notes say. Justice (mishpat) rhymes with bloodshed (mispah) and righteousness (sedaqah) ryhmes with distress (se'aqah).

So God looks on his people searching for justice and righteousness. Huh. Wow, we (our country, church, families, ME) must fail him so often.

Lord, where do you look for justice in my life and home, yet all you see is "bloodshed," spilled life, ebbing humanity, hurt and pain? Where do you look for righteousness in my life and home, yet find only distress? Wow, convicting, obvious. Lord, renew me, transform me.