Transfused Strength, Vitality, and an Unshakable Force for All Your Rough Roads Ahead

It was right past the homeless man with the guitar, and I loved that he was jiving and rocking along to the music. Our homeless gifts bags slid around on the floor at my feet, and I can't remember if we were able to give him one that day or if the intersection light turned green and we had to swing away, a long line of cars behind pressing us to move.

Photo Credit: Flickr user Hal Dick, Creative Commons cc license

The orange square sign announced it. Black words on tangerine background stating the truth that has already been shaking my world. Rough Road Ahead, and you can see it coming, know that it's coming, but there's still nothing like crossing the smooth-sailing calm traverse you've been on to bump into the rock and gravel of the rough road ahead.

And we can see that sign ahead, and know it's coming, even in the midst of our service to others, and loving service to family.

The secret that I've seen, may I spill it to you? Because I've been watching and spying and seeing it ripple out. The secret that I've seen reverberate, rippling out peace, beauty, calm despite unrest, and joy wrapped in deep pain, has been rooted in this.

I've seen it scrawled on paper across kitchen tables, beside the coffee mugs and bobbing purple orchid blooms. I've heard it in soft voices from across round church tables, and in quiet homes with stuffed couches and armchairs. I've seen grown men crying in handsome dignity and seen it written across their faces.

The power and strength to traverse any rough road ahead is written in ancient ink from the Word-God himself. This word that gives light to the eyes, joy to the heart, makes wise the simple, revives the soul and renews us daily is an unstoppable force and available to us all.

I've seen God's words in the Bible transfuse strength and comfort as a woman traces the well-worn pages with silk-skin fingertips after hours of yard-work and a life poured out for others. I've spied out weary-worn men and women who rise in unnoticed silence and grab fiercely to the Rock that sustains them and gives them truth, and again and again I see them grab onto God's word.

It is active, alive, vibrant, life-changing, sustaining, and transformational.

I have been immersing myself in the Bible's pages especially this summer as I prepare to teach with Village School of the Bible's Cover to Cover immersive Bible survey classes this year.

There is still time to join us! I'll be teaching Mondays from 6:45 to 8:45 pm at Living Faith Church in Blaine/Circle Pines, Minnesota, starting August 21st. (If you live anywhere near the Twin Cities suburbs, you are welcome to join us. Feel free to invite family and friends.)

Register by calling Trish at VSB at 952-540-9460 or email: trish@villageschoolsofthebible.org.   Cost is $129 and scholarships are available. You are welcome to even just visit the first night and see what you think. 

Here is a testimonial from a mom and her daughter who went through the study together.

Join me?


P.S.
Want to hear a powerful sermon by my Dad, Bruce Pinke, sharing the Six Truths he's learning through suffering as he is dying from stage IV cancer? It is encouraging, beautiful, and God-honoring. Listen here.

If you are not receiving my posts yet by email, welcome. Simply enter your email address in the box under my bio in the top right of the page. Don't miss a post and be part of any special invitations too!

Grab Your Ugly Socks!

With a clatter and a crash, the phone slipped off the treadmill dashboard, careened off the moving belt, and skidded to a stop in the carpet behind me.

I glanced left and right. Lithe joggers ran in precise form, their arms knowing how to cycle in smooth arcs, not flailing wildly like mine.

Photo Credit: Flickr user, E'Lisa Campbell, Creative Commons cc license

Grinning and red-faced, I jumped my feet up to straddle both sides of the still-moving treadmill, scooted backwards and retrieved my music player/husband's old cell phone. From a stair-stepping machine a row back, Mark arched an eyebrow at me and smirked.

Plugging headphones back in, I straddled the swiftly-moving treadmill belt again, gathered my courage, caught the gait, and jumped back into the jog. Staring at a smudge on the wall ahead of me, I breathed in four-four time, bouncing legs in rhythm to Superchick's rocky Beauty from Pain album.

I'm five weeks into jogging again and I'm loving the satisfaction and joy of meeting a goal. I've learned that I need a plan, and I need to make it as easy as I can to choose well. A black cloth bag hangs on a hook behind our bedroom door with an easy-to-grab work out t-shirt and comfy black shorts to run in. Crumpled green and red ankle socks wait in teal and coral tennis shoes on a handy shelf, and my headphones lay on our dresser. Mark and I have chosen days we work out, and we're trying to stick to them.

Panting and huffing, I watched the odometer click to a number I was waiting for. Hitting the cool-down button, I slowed my pace, heart racing, sweat dripping. Grabbing a sanitary towelette to wipe down the YMCA machine afterwards, I was stopped by an older gentleman.

"You're getting an early start. Are those Christmas socks?" he asked, smiling at my green and red socks.

I laughed and blushed. "Um, yes, Christmas bears, but they're comfortable ankle socks," I grinned back.

It helps to have a plan, I'm learning. So whether you're working towards fitness goals, writing word counts, business dreams, or end of summer plans, make it easy for yourself to say yes, and to feel joy in that moment. For me that looks like carving out mornings to write, setting aside afternoons to study for upcoming speaking sessions, and choosing times to grab my ugly socks and run!

What goals are you chipping away at? What helps you feel good about victories along the way? (Those reading this in email, can click here to join the conversation.)

If you're not receiving my posts by email, welcome. Simply enter your email address in the box under my bio in the top right of the page. Don't miss an article and be part of any special invitations too!

Confessions of a HomeSchooling Mom

It didn't seem fair to wake them up early for school on Labor Day, after a late night, so I poured myself another cup of coffee, and relaxed my expectations for the day. This was really more of a school introduction today.

As a homeschooling mom to a ninth grader and a kindergartener, with my eldest off in his first year of college, school looks different this year. It is splashy cellophane-wrapped kindergarten kits of calenders and continents, with colorful alphabet banners, twenty-four-piece People Color crayons, and beautiful multicultural faces from around the world. Kindergarten still sits wrapped in cellophane on the table, though, while my ninth grader and I read Physical Science about atoms and molecules, and my kindergartener plays Wii games downstairs.

Confession 1.) Some days, school doesn't start at 9 am. And I haven't taken a shower yet.
Confession 2.) I am as excited as the students are -- often more so-- at the prospect of new books to read and things to learn.

As more people stream in and out of the kitchen and living room where we are reading, Morgan and I sneak away to a quiet bedroom to continue our science.

Confession 3.) I don't always have all items on hand to do the experiments before we read about it.

"Okay, I'm going to need to find two copper wires for this experiment," I admit sheepishly to my Morgan. "Let's read about it now, and then we'll do it later, okay?... Wow, look! We're actually ripping water molecules apart here! That's cool."

Confession 4.) I love learning along with them.

Lunch comes and goes, with family members fending for themselves in between subjects. The scent of grilling cheese and turkey simmer out from the panini-maker, and chunky apple wedges dot the table. Strawberries and chips are a mid-morning snack.

Dirty dishes line one side of my sink, while clean dishes from last night fill two counters to the left of the sink.

Mammoth zucchini boats were shredded down to towering wet mounds of grated green-striped pulp, and folded into muffins last night. The last of those sweet muffins was gobbled up this morning by the earliest risers.

School supplies adorn my kitchen table in glory, while photographic books of India, China, Mongolia and Japan stack in glossy piles according to country on my floor. Legos and plastic army warriors huddle as toys from the night before, scattered between school piles, and I still haven't started kindergarten yet. I think it will be afternoons, three times a week.

Daughter disappears downstairs, clicking into her internet links on Chinese History and Culture, and writing summaries about Chinese school systems, pagodas, the Hidden City, and more.

My husband and college-age son are out playing tennis today on their day off, while I introduce high school and kindergarten to the ones at home. I text both men, asking them to stop and pick up bread, ice cream and maybe some snacks on the way home.

Confession 5.) We're out of "good" food, my kids say, and lunch requires their creativity, or heating up leftovers.

Silence descends on my home as brains are being stretched and used. And that sound of learning? It's beautiful!

Excuse me as I grab some books, open some cellophaned maps and start kindergarten. I can't wait...

Linking with Ann at A Holy Experience.