Trading down?

Classes started at the medical school where I work today. I have been preparing for this day for months, with alot of guidance from the doctors who will actually teach the course. It's a big day for us - a bad day for my bus to be late, but it all ended well.

I got here early enough to sit in on the introductory lecture for the course. It was the first time I had done it. It was cool to see the course director lecture. I'm used to interacting with this guy with both of us trying to get some food in our guts as we go through course plans, me folded up in his deep arm chair and he with his feet propped up on his desk. But today he was dressed in collar and tie and was using words I never would have credited to his intellect. He's actually a very good speaker (has a little trouble with the concept of a clip-on microphone, but otherwise, a very good speaker!) - and obviously a gifted scientist and teacher.

Well, I was absolutely captivated. After the lecture I quietly slipped out the back and returned to my desk, but as soon as the course director came back I scurried down to his office and said "Can I just take the course?"

Back at my desk, I began to think about my life 3 years ago. I had been in school in a pre-med program. It had been my goal to be an MD, just like all 178 students in that lecture. They would all go one to pour their lives into their career - which for them wasn't only medicine, by military. They'd learn things I'd never learn, have experiences I'd never have, see things I'd never see, aquire skills I'd never master, and be the doctors I'd never be. The course introduction had been very interesting, and I began thinking about going home and pulling my beloved biology text book off the shelf and flipping through it again.

Kari Evans, M.D., had been my dream 3 years ago. And what had happend? Well, I did get some new letters after my name, but not the ones I had expected. Instead of 'M.D.' I aquired 'Faherty'. I traded doctordom for wifedom, medicine for marraige. Had I traded down?

I thought about it. In the one hand, 30 years from now, I could have:

1. I could have a career in medicine where I could potentially save a couple hundred lives
2. A wealth of knowledge unheld by the average joe
3. Recognition
4. A ludicrous salary
5. Maybe even fame!
6. ...well, all that if my health held out long enough for me to make it through training, which it doesn't look like it would have...
7. and even if it did and I made it to residency, I'd have hours that restricted my time for family and church
8. so that would have put off marriage until, when? About age 30?
9. and how am I to be serving my local church with crazy hours?
10. no, wait, how am I to be serving my home and family with crazy hours?
11. yikes.

So, in the other hand I had my life as it actually exists:

1. The best husband in the world, second to none
2. nearly 3 years of marriage I wouldn't trade for any amount of fame, money, or education
3. 2 years at the best church in the world, second to none, with the prospect of decades more attending and serving in that same church
4. more spiritual growth in my life since I stopped college than in all my pre-marriage years combined
5. a proper understanding of the Gospel
6. freedom to let my husband lead our family without having to fight to keep a career afloat
7. freedom to serve my home and family without other pressures
8. the potential to start a family earlier and experience more of my childrens' lives
9. and thanks to the lack of distractions, a chance to get my priorities straight: God, Family, Church.

This wasn't how my priorities were, well, prioritized 3 years ago. I had a bunch of idols vying for God's place on the throne of my worship. But some sound doctrine, good teaching, and alot of Gospel-talk later, I've come to see that God's will was never for me to pour my life into a career. He wants me to pour it into him - and for me as a wife, this means service oriented toward my home and my family. This would have been severly hindered by a time consuming career like medicine.

So, Kari MD in one hand, Kari Faherty in the other. Did I trade down? I dont' think so. Scripture doesn't think so - and I truly believe God doesn't think so.

PS - my husband doesn't think so either.

Larenim

Would you ever have thought that I would be wearing makeup every day? Well I am! (My brother is so proud!) This post is a shout out to the make up that has allowed me to throw away everything else I stole from my mom when I was in middle school . (...sorry mom.)

The founder of Larenim Mineral Makeup had every possible skin problem imaginable -some of it induced by her conventional makeup - and founded the company to try and save others the same troubles.

I'm 23 and have struggled with acne nice my early teenage years. I kinda feel like at this age, I've done my time and should be through, but it hasn't let up.

Or hadn't.

I prefer natural to synthetic anywhere I have a choice. For this reason, bad though my acne be, I couldn't bring myself to wear traditional makeup that would exacerbate my breakouts, feel awful on my skin, and make me look fake. I chose not to wear it unless it looked and felt natural, didn't upset my skin, didn't smear off on everything, felt good while I wore it, and stayed on all day. Needless to say, this makeup was never found, and so I went without.

Finally fed up with the breakouts, I started looking for something - anything - that would help, even if it just meant makeup to cover the imperfections. I tried my local Whole Foods and found Larenim. "Can't hurt..." I thought.

Well, I never thought anything would meet my hippie standards, but Larenim does. It's low maintenance because it stays on all day; it looks and feels natural; it doesn't smell "like a dentist office" (as my husband observed other makeup did); it doesn't rub off on me or my husband's clothes; and best of all, it doesn't exacerbate my acne.

On the contrary, this make up is the only thing I've ever applied to my face that has cleared up my acne 100%. Something in the stuff just balanced my skin. Now that's cool!

My husband came in while I was applying my makeup one day and said "Well well, my hippie's wearing makeup again!" He was quite for a minute. "Are you ok with this?" he asked sincerely.

"I'm REALLY ok with it," I answered. "In fact, I feel like I'm just doing one more step in my skin care routine. I don't even feel like I'm 'putting on makeup'."

Pretty darn cool if you ask me. You can get samples for 4 bucks a pop on the web site. I'd encourage everyone to try it. Oh, and if you're still unconvinced, maybe reading about what conventional makeup will do to your skin over time - even the ones that are "non-comedogenic" and "hypo-allergenic" - will give you a little incentive. It sure did for me. See here and here.

Self righteousness

I ride the bus to work. It's awesome. It gives me time in a busy busy day to read!

Before I get too deep into this post, everyone should read The Count of Monte Cristo.

I ride the bus to work. I pick one spot at the bustop and I always wait there. I figure God is sovereign over where the bus pulls up alot the curb. There's usually plenty of seats for all of us.

One day a few weeks ago the bus pulled up right in front of me. Everyone shifted to await the opening doors. There were some people ahead of me since I usually stand back from the curb. Then from my right a woman began pushing very forcefully and rudely slipping herself between people to force her way to the head of the line. A blond woman next to me began some commentary. "Whoa, geez! Take it easy! It's not like he's going to leave you behind!" I dropped my eyes. She said exactly what I was thinking, only I added "Hmph! I never do anything that rude...".

On the way home there's another phenomenon that illicited the same kind of 'good grief!' reaction from me. When we're approaching the final discharge spot (that's the bustop where everyone has to get off or they're going to make the loop again) some people will get up out of their seat a half mile from the stop and just stand in front of the door. Here's my mental reaction: "Why do people do that? I can somewhat understand pushing to the head of the line when you're boarding the bus to get a seat, but when you're exiting? It's like they think all the seats in their car are going to be taken when they get there! What makes them think they're so much better than the rest of us that they should be first off the bus?" and then there it was again: "Hmph! I never do that."

Well, my sin-detector (you know, the holy spirit) went off one morning while I was having these thoughts. "A little self-righteous, aren't we?" it asked. I thought about it. Yes, it seemed so. Scripture calls us to a high standard in this area. Philipians 2:3 says "Do nothing from rivalry or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. " We aren't to think of ourselves as better than others - so I'm not to think that someone is worse than me because they do something I wouldn't, like push to the head of the bus line or wait at the door.

Jesus condemns this elevated view of self in a parable he told.

"Now he told a parable to those who were invited, when he noticed how they chose the places of honor, saying to them, "When you are invited by someone to a wedding feast, do not sit down in a place of honor, lest someone more distinguished than you be invited by him, and he who invited you both will come and say to you, 'Give your place to this person,' and then you will begin with shame to take the lowest place. But when you are invited, go and sit in the lowest place, so that when your host comes he may say to you, 'Friend, move up higher.' Then you will be honored in the presence of all who sit at table with you. For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted." --Luke 14:7-11

It's easy to see from this parable that we're always to go into the feast with the assumption that all other guests are more important than ourselves. There's never a reason to think we're better than the next guy - even if the next guy is shoving his way to the head of the bus line. What's the difference between him and me really? Could his pushing be an expression of him thinking he's better than the rest of us and deserves to board first? Is that any different than me thinking I'm better than him because I don't do that? Looks like we're both suffering from an elevated view of self and a diminuative view of others.

The bus queue isn't the only place in my life where self-righteousness manifests. Every time I see that my husband has put the garlic press in the crock instead of the drawer I think "why does he keep doing this! I never do this, I get it right!" I'm being self-righteous. When I get cranky at the guy who pushes all the way to the front of the merge lane on the interstate instead of just taking an earlier opening and think "Why do people do that? Don't they know they're making traffic worse by doing that? I never do that," I'm being self righteous. I could go on like this forever.

Perhaps you're thinking it's not wrong to expect people to 'act properly' or 'get it right'. Well, I think if I search my heart what I'm really saying with statements like this is I want them to do it the way I would do it. And in that, I'm definitely using myself as the ultimate standard of correctness. And so...I'm the best! Or that's what I'm believing in my heart, and that's what's coming out in my actions.

A stout beating with the conviction stick

"For godly grief produces a repentance that leads to salvation without regret, whereas worldly grief produces death." --2 Corinthians 7:10

My husband came home yesterday to find me reading.

"How was your day?" he asked.
"Ok," I answered quietly.
"You sleepy?"
"No," I said.
"You sick?" he said, looking concerned.
"No, I feel fine..."
"Well what's wrong then?" he asked.
"I'm a sinner..." I said quietly, dropping my eyes.

I must have looked kinda cute and pitiful, because Stephan laughed in that way you do when you see a baby crying and just can't take it seriously. He sat down adn hugged me, and told me that I had plenty of company in being a sinner.

"A thousand other sinners wouldn't make me less sinful," I informed him.
"Well, no," he said, "but God knows hot to handle sinners. Are you remembering the gospel?"

He told me the story again. Sinful men, deserving punishment from a holy God, were brought near to him by him substituting his son - Jesus - to recieve the punishment they deserved. If I had put my faith in Christ's death on my behalf, "Which you have," he said, then God looks and me and see's Christ's righteousness and not my sinfulness.

I nodded. He was right, of course, but there was something sweet and unique about the way I was feeling this time.

We'd been reading through a book in my caregroup about genuine repentence. One of the ingredients to genuine repentence was true sorrow over our sin. It's one thing to know we've broken a rule, but when we really meditate on the fact that we've acted outside the boundaries laid by a holy god - who has already done so much to save us - and have grieved him by our actions, then we become truly sorrowful. Those sins put Jesus on the cross. Those actions created my need for a savior, and ultimately made it neccesary for Jesus to die the death I should have.

Grieving over the fact that we hurt God is a neccesary ingredient to being truly repentant for our sin. But as we read through this section, I realized that I very rarely felt grieved over my sin - sure I felt bad that I broke a rule or tarnished my track record, but I didn't think in context of wronging and hurting the heart of the perfect God that had sacrificed his beloved son to reconcile me, a sinner, to himself.

Well, we started reading this book last Tuesday. Sunday I got the word from God that he wanted me to respond in obedience. I knew that there would be no real and lasting change in my life until I was truly sorrowful over my sin - if I lacked that, I would simply fall back into old patterns of sin. I mean, no one ever changes an action they don't really and truly feel bad for.

I prayed a simple prayer that God would increase my grief over my sin. I wasn't expecting a stout beating with the conviction stick - which is what I felt like I got.

I woke up the next morning and felt like I was going to collaps in a puddle of tears all day. I saw my sin like I'd never seen it before. When I saw the puddle of water on the floor in front of the ice machine I immediately thought "What idiot dropped ice and didn't kick it under the machine?" That was a judgemental attitude - had to stop and repent for that. When my supervisor got a phone call from a long lost friend and couldn't stop talking about it I grew angry and frustrated with her. Again, had to walk through repentance. Oh, and when the people in the issuing office were offended and put off when I brought something to them late by no fault of my own I left in a huff thinking "Do they think things never come across my desk unexpectedly or late? I don't act that way when it does..." That was self-righteousness. That one almost put me on the floor. I hadn't realized just how much I sinned. It was almost imcapacitating.

How many of you opperate like this: if there are no adverse consequences for your sin, or no one calls you out on your sin, you don't even think about it really being sin. It's just a natural reaction to life. It's justified. It's understandable. You dont' grieve it. Sure, you may ask God to forgive you - maybe - but your heart doesn't feel it would break over it.

This is a discription of my relationship with repentance. I rarely ask forgiveness from God. I don't grieve my sin enough to prompt me to go back to the one I've ultimately offended - God. Sin by it's nature is an offense against God.

When I told my husband all this, he cautioned me against condemnation - which is letting the magnitude of your sin overwhelm you to the point where you forget that Christ has already paid for it - all of it. Basically you're saying with your actions that his death wasn't adequate and you still have reason to wallow in your sin. True belief in the gospel dispells condemnation because those who are saved are no longer condemned.

I was like this all day. It may sound like I wasn't in a hurry to get out of this funk. Well, like I said, there was something sweet and unique about this time. Usually, I do fall into condemnation. I completely forget the cross and wallow in the magnitude of my sin. Falling into that condemnation usually preceeds a whole host of other sins - like self-pity and anger and dispair. But I wasn't like that this time. This time I was keenly aware that I was washed clean by Christ's blood - and was so genuinely grieved over my sin in general that I was even desirous of avoiding the sins that usually went with condemnation. Those sins were just as bad as those of lisence. Where I was that day was simply grieved over my sin as a whole. Pouty sins didn't become permissible because I was feeling guilty over other sins. All sins were things that hurt God - and so were all things to be avoided. I just wanted to savor the acute awareness of that fact. I needed it. Without the grief, there's no genuine repentance and no lasting change.

So how about today? I'm feeling better. I'm trying to meditate on the gospel and remember that though my sin is horrid, it is attoned for. This is a very exciting thing! Only the perfect love of God could prompt him to pay such a price to ransom a sinner like me from death - and because of Jesus, nothing can separate me from that love. This should produce joy. And as my husband faithfully pointed out last night, "The Christian life is not marked by grief, but by joy."

The joy is building in my heart. But I want to give proper time to the grief too. The more genuine my grief, the more genuine my joy will be too.

Valley of Vision

Sovereign Grace Ministries just released a new CD based on the puritan prayer book Valley of Vision. The title track has really been speaking to me. Below are the powerful lyrics:

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In the Valley
Based on The Valley of Vision prayer “The Valley of Vision”
Words and Music by Bob Kauflin
Copywrite 2006 Sovereign Grace Praise (BMI). Sovereign Grace Music, a division of Sovereign Grace Ministries.


When You lead me to the valley of vision
I can see You in the heights
And though my humbling wouldn’t be my decision
It’s here Your glory shines so bright
So let me learn that the cross precedes the crown
To be low is to be high
That the valley’s where You make me more like Christ

Let me find Your grace in the valley
Let me find Your life in my death
Let me find Your joy in my sorrow
Your wealth in my need
That You’re near with every breath
In the valley

In the daytime there are stars in the heavens
But they only shine at night
And the deeper that I go into darkness
The more I see their radiant light
So let me learn that my losses are my gain
To be broken is to heal
That the valley’s where Your power is revealed

Rarely what I expect...

My husband and I had to decide what we were going to do last Friday night.

"The church is having a time of worship to wrap up the worship conference it hosted over the weekend," I told him. "I'd like to go. Who knows? Maybe God will heal me."

I was refering to my mysterious fatigue and malaise.

We decided to go out for pizza first. I limped out to the car and limped into the restaurant, limped out to the car again, limped into church, limped up the stairs to seats in the way back (we were 5 minutes late - who can rush through pizza?), and sat down. You see, I'd had an accident while cycling with my husband the previous Saturday and had injured my knee. It was black and blue and scabby, and I'd been babying it all week. Something had gone wrong inside my joint and it wasn't improving. The next day I would be spending my day at an amusment park with my husband and parents. I was worried about reinjuring it if I was on it all day, but I wanted to see my family and was not calling the trip off.

We were lead in worship by an amazing team, and a few songs into the session I felt like I heard a word from God that I should share. My church has a microphone that anyone who feels they have a prophetic word can go to. There's a pastor there who helps you discern if your word is timely, appropriate, and scriptural. If it is, then you can share.

So I ran what I believed I heard past my husband first, and he said I should go run it past the pastor at the mic. I went. The fellow's name was John (he was very nice), and he said that he felt confident I was hearing from God, but that he didn't feel that second was the best to share. He asked if I'd wait.

"Of course," I said, and sat down on the floor right there in the aisle. I always have peace to do that - God will make an opening if he desires.

While on the floor the pain in my knee began to worsen and my joint stiffened. It seemed to happen when I sat still for long periods of time. I tried to shift around and massage it to keep the pain down.

We sang, we prayed, we listened to others who felt they had heard from God. Our worship leader actually felt he had a prophetic song for a specific group of ladies in the audience. He sang it for them. After that, John retrieved a man who was sitting near me to come to the mic. He approached the mic and said one sentence: "I believe the Lord desires to heal those here with pain in their lower extremities."

Needless to say, my breath caught in my throat. Our worship leader asked anyone who fell into that category to raise their hand. I did. John turned around, saw me, and smiled. I shrugged bashfully. Our worship leader then asked if those near us would lay their hands on us and pray that we'd be healed. I had the blessing of 6 or 7 people praying for my knee injury. I'm always so humbled when I hear people praying prayers in proper perspective - specifically that whatever they are asking for would bring God glory and not just give us what we want.

After I was prayed for we went on singing. John came back to me, smiling, and asked "How's your knee?"

"Feel's great," I relayed. He then let me know that he felt we'd moved on from the time in the program that was condusive to sharing words. "Though I'm not sure that's what God brought you down for in the end..." I thanked him for shepherding the microphone in such a big meeting, and as I left said off-handedly "Maybe that word was meant for me."

As I went home, I noticed a little bit of pain in my knee. I had a choice. I could doubt that God had done what he promised or I could concent to giving him a night to do his work. I chose the later, and went to bed telling God I believed he was able to heal my knee and that I would be pain free at the amusement part the next day.

And I was. The pain was completely gone and I was on my feet all day Saturday. It's Monday now, and the pain hasn't returned. I even went cycling again yesterday and was fine.

I had gone to the service that night having flipantly said "maybe God will heal me." I should have known better - because he did, just now how I expected.

Oh, and that word I recieved?

"What then? Are we to sin because we are not under law but under grace? By no means! Do you not know that if you present yourselves to anyone as obedient slaves, you are slaves of the one whom you obey, either of sin, which leads to death, or of obedience, which leads to righteousness? But thanks be to God, that you who were once slaves of sin have become obedient from the heart to the standard of teaching to which you were committed, and, having been set free from sin, have become slaves of righteousness. " --Romans 6:15-18

I felt the Lord wanted us to know that excitement over the Gospel is good and right, but that same Gospel demands a response from us - that response is obedience, turning from our sin and turning to God.

What was it I said to John as I left? "Maybe that word was meant for me"? Well, it was. God confirmed that the very next morning when he revealed sin I'd been letting fester for months. God doesn't speak without speaking to someone.

God did heal me - it just wasn't how I expected. God did speak - it just wasn't to whom I expected. God's always moving - it's just rarely what I expect.

Mercy

A debter to mercy alone, of covenant mercy I sing
I come with your righteousness on, my humble offering to bring
The judgements of your holy law, with me can have nothing to do
My savior’s obedience and blood hide all my transgressions from you.

The work which your goodness began, the arm of your strength will complete
Your promise is ‘yes!’ and ‘amen!’ and never was forfeited yet
The future of things that are now, no power below or above
Can make you your purpose forego, or sever my soul from your love.

My name from the palms of your hands eternity will not erase
Impressed on your heart it remains in marks of indelible grace.
I till the end will endure until I bow down at your throne
Forever and always secure, a debtor to mercy alone.

Copyright 1998 Soveriegn Grace Praise (BMI) Soveriegn Grace Music
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That's a song written by the worship leader at my church, Bob Kaufflin. I'm sure I've mentioned him before. He's a real gift to our church. We sang this song in church a few weeks ago and I was reminded how much I love it. It came at a good time.

I was sick again a few weeks ago. It gets very discouraging having no idea what's triggering these episodes. I can very easily be tempted to self pity and anger. My husband can too. Especially when we can see no end in sight.

That's where this song has been very handy to me. "A debtor to mercy alone," it begins. I recently read a book character discribe it this way:

“My father lay dying, and until this medicine is administered, my husband does the same...and I am miles away from them both. ... I can often be tempted to believe that I don’t deserve to have had the life I have. I can start to believe that because my childhood had some dark times, I shouldn’t have to suffer during my adult years. I feel I’ve paid my due. I’m tempted to shake my fists at God and inform him that I deserve to keep my father and my husband – he has no right to take them from me, not after all that I’ve already lost. That’s what I start to think. ... But the Gospel tells me clearly that this is not the truth. What I deserve as a rebel against a good and holy God is death. That’s why Christ had to die in my place – he took the death that should have been dealt to me. And now that I’ve been reconciled to The Father, any trial that comes across my path is better than I deserve. I am indeed a debtor to His mercy. … No injustice is done to me if God takes my father. My father was a gift to me from God and he is God’s to take away. My husband was a gift from God, and is God's to take away. I do not deserve to keep them. What I deserve is death, and I’ve been spared. All other things are mercy.”

This character's father and husband of 3 days are both ill. It's fairly certain that her father will die soon, and unless her husband is treated quickly, he will die as well. When she gave this monologue she was making a mad dash to a different part of the country to retrieve the medicine that would cure her husband. That's a tough hand to have been dealt. But her perspective is helpful. I could say the same things about my health that she is saying about her loved ones. My health is a gift from God, and it's his to take away. No injustice is done to me if he chooses to take my health. I don't deserve to be healthy. What I deserve is punishment for my sins - death and eternity in hell, separated from God. But through Christ's death I've been spared this - and all other circumstances that cross my path, even if they're rigorous trials, are mercy, because they are far less than I deserve. I am a debtor to mercy - and I'd better remember it, because if I let my current, short-term circumstances cloud my vision I will grow bitter very quickly.

I heard a comical song by a christian comedian named Mark Lowry when I was a child. Part of the chorus went like this:

No matter where you are tonight you're doing pretty well
Because it sure beats hell.

No dicing words there. No matter what circumstances fall in our laps, if we have accepted Christ's death on our behalf and him as our savior, we're doing alot better than we would be alternatively. Without accepting Jesus, things will only get worse and stay worse. With accepting him, we can know that our sufferings are temporary and full, complete relief is coming. That's the mercy I'm endebted to.

"But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ--by grace you have been saved-- and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, so that in the coming ages he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus." --Ephesians 2:4-7

This whole mercy thing confusing? See here for a better explaination.

AHA!! The internet is working again. Excellent. I've been waiting to write this post for a long time!!

Last week my cell phone broke. The phone function worked, but I couldn't see the screen. So I left it on the table and went about my housework. Well, it rang, and I picked up with no idea who it was.

"So your phone DOES still work!" came a joyful voice from the other end. Unmistakable. My best friend - I'll call her Joy.

"Hey!" I said. "How are you?" She giggled. Oh, I knew that giggle. "I guess you're fine..." *giggle* "How fine are you?" I asked.

"We're courting!" she snickered. When Joy snickers it's not in an evil cackle kind of way. She's just smiling so big that her lips don't form words properly. You learn to decipher - and even translate - after some time.

Some quick background. Joy and a super great guy (we'll call him David, because he's a swell leader and talented musician) have had their eye on each other for a long time, and I'd known forever that they'd be getting together soon. I just didn't know how soon.

So this was my big scene. I, as best friend, was scripted to say something deeply uplifting and encouraging. I think I performed well.

"Are you sure??" I screamed.

(Ok, so there had kinda been some back and forth with these two...are they courting?...are they not?... it was a natural question if you'd been there for the whole thing, believe me.)

After laughing, she confirmed that yes, she was sure, and told me the story. It was a great story, but I'll spare you. Joy and I prayed together and, though I'm sure I wasn't, I felt like I was rivaling her for smiling and squealing the most. Anyway, The important part of the conversation was that they were going on their first official date that Friday. David was going to surprise Joy.

Last weekend was the most suspenseful of my life. I seriously had to restrain myself from calling with one of those "psssssssssst! How's it going??" inquiries. But I stood firm, and waited for Monday.

The report was great!!!!!! It's their special time, so I'm not posting it here for the world to see, but it was a really fun time that glorified God and brought them both alot of joy. I heard David raving later about how Joy always and consistently points him back to God, and their first date was no exception.

I believe him - she does the same for me.


SO HAPPY FOR YOU GUYS!!!!!!!!!

Ken's mermaid

There's a guy round the corner who drinks his coffee out of a cup with Ariel from Disney's The Little Mermaid on it. Whenever I see it outside his lab I smile. "The illusive mermaid," I think, "Ken's holy grail..."

He scuba dives. He went to Bonaire this month for two weeks. Before he left I asked, as always, "do you think you'll find her this time?" He always gives a hopeful answer, but every time comes back without having met with any undersea company.

When I first saw him upon his return I cried out "You're back! I'm so relieved you weren't eaten by mermaids!" After chuckling he cried out "Oh, I got a picture of a mermaid this time!" I raised an eyebrown and cocked my head sceptically. "No really! I saw one!" he persisted. I asked if said mermaid would be in with the pictures he took on his trip and he assured me she would be.

Days went by. No pictures materialized. I began ribbing him in the hallways when I passed him, saying he was pulling my leg. He was steadfast in belief though, and smuggly but smilingly told me I'd soon see.

Well, today the pictures were on my desk on a CD. I popped it in and scrolled through. They're amazing photographs. Ken's a superb photographer. There were blowfish and baby trumpet fish, christmas tree coral and sea slugs, sea horses and shrimps - and eels. He loves eels. And then, there she was. Ken's mermaid! She was beautiful with sprite-like features and an hourglass figure. Her tail was bright green and her hair baby blue, and there was even a little blue sea star in the center of her forhead. And then...wait, there was a giant thumb and fore finger pinching her perfectly shaped fins...hold it.

Yeah, it was a toy held up by one of Ken's diving buddies. I smiled. I'd suspected as much. At least it wasn't one of his male diving cohorts in a bikini...

But looking through the other photos, another ghostly figure caught my eye. I studied the picture closer and Ken's toy suddenly wasn't the only mermaiden hidden in his photos. This one was nestled snugly inside an opening in a shipwreck, her head gracefully bent to one side, her hands peacefully touching. Her skin was porcelain white and her head was draped with a thin shawl of the same color. Her sleaves were long. Her eyes were kind. Her presence was ethreal and lent an air of mystery to the indigo and teal scene - and isn't that what mermaids are fabled to do? I smiled.

Looks like Ken found his mermaid after all. Iwonder if he even noticed.

Joel

I was recently introduced to the world of MySpace by on of my best friends in the whole wide world (I love you Tapa!!). Well, in that cyper labrinth one thing can lead to another and I found a MySpace for my old youth pastor Joel. Apparently alot's been going on in his life. I stumbled across a music page he's put up (he's a great musician).

Anyway, he's got some of his music up on his MySpace, and the one that was playing brought me so much joy. He wrote a song for his wife, Danielle, called "My brown-eyed black haired brown skinned girl." Kinda long, yeah, but when you know something about his family you just laugh with joy. See, Joel's about as white as people come. He's the "blue-eyed, brown-haired pale skinned dad" in the song. The woman discribed in the title is Danielle, his wife - her mother is white like Joel, but her dad is African American. You can see where her attributes come from. She's beautiful. Then there's their first child, Zack, he's a "brown eyed brown haired brown skinned boy" who looks alot like his mom. After him comes Melody, a "green-eyed brown-haired pale skinned girl". They're a beautiful family who love Jesus with all their souls. It's a rare and wonderful thing these days.

So where was I going with this? Oh right - the song. Go hear it.

Reality invades soccer

So...did anyone watch the world cup final?

Ok ok, forget an intro for this post. We all know what happened. It was Italy and France playing for the cup, and both teams fought so hard that it was still 1 all after 3 hours of play. During those rigorous 3 hours the French team captain, Zinedine Zidane incurred a bad injury to his right shoulder, but kept playing. We could all see he was hurting, but he handled it extraordinarily well, in my opinion. Later he missed a penalty kick. It was easy to see he was growing tired, weary and angry as he let out a wordless scream toward the French goal he'd missed by mere centimeters. As the game wore on, I'm sure I wasn't the only one chewing holes in the plastic plate my lunch had been on.

A bit of background on the man of the hour. Zinedine Zidane was born to Algerian immigrants in a poor part of Marseille. He's a real Oliver Twist. He'd retired but had come back to play for this year's World Cup, and he would retire again after this game's finish. He's France's hero. He's famed for his ability to perform at penalty kicks. As it became clear that the game was heading for penalty kicks, there was no question the Captain was under a little pressure.

Then then entire focus of the game shifted as an Italian player named Materazzi came up to Zidane (who speaks Italian) and made a comment that is as of yet unconfirmed. Zidane turned around and rammed his head into Materazzi's chest, laying him flat on his back. My jaw fell open as I watched the ref run up to Zidane and hold the infamous red card aloft. Zidane didn't seem to give much resistance as he left the field. The short remainder of the game was clouded by the incident. Italy won in penalty kicks, but what would have happened if Zidane had kicked for France? And what did Materazzi say that provoked such a response from a man who's composure and endurance I'd been admiring the whole game? What posessed Zidane to make him willing to end his glittering career on that note?

Well, there's alot of speculation. Some pretty impressive measures have been taken. FIFA brought in a deaf lip reader to pronounce Materazzi's Italian words for a listening Italian translator. I won't repeat what they deciphered, but it was something to do with Zidane being a terrorist and unkind words were mentioned about his mother.

I know, I laughed a little too - but this was no typical yo moma joke. It was awful, especially given Zidane's Algerian heritage and the current tensions both in the global threat of terrorism and the racism flaring up in France.

But none of that is confirmed. Zidane had promised to reveal the comment, but has reserved for himself a few days of media privacy. I don't blame him.

So we're all left wondering what happened. ...well, are we really? I think it's pretty clear.
The shoulder injury. Missing the penalty kick. Playing hard for 3 hours. Awful, awful comments. Zidane was squeezed and something came out. What came out was an explosion of anger. What came out was sin.

Here I must interject that my heart broke for him in that moment. Strange at it seems, I've actually be praying for Zidane since this incident. When I saw him headbutt Materazzi, I forgot all about soccer and the blunt reality of the fallen world I live in invaded the world cup: Zidane wasn't just a soccer player. He was a sinner who needed a savior - he just proved it.

Anxious though I am to know exactly what Materazzi said, the most horrible words won't justify Zidane's brief moment of rage. Fits of anger are clearly listed among sinful actions in scripture, and the penalty of those sins is worse than a red card - it's death.

You see, all people are sinners - meaning we rebel against God's rules for our life and opt for our own rules. If God is to remain just, he can't let that rebellion go unpunished. But being a loving God, he sent Jesus - who had no sin of his own to die for - to die for ours in our place. God raised him from the dead because he had died a death he didn't deserve. Once that happened, God gives us the option of a swap - our complete sinfulness for Jesus' complete righteousness. If we admit in our heart that we are sinners, and that we will never be perfect on our own and need someone to do it for us, and accept Christ's death in our place so as attain his perfection in God's eyes, then we not only have the promise of eternity with God, but grace immediately active in our hearts to help us turn from our sin and lead a life pleasing to God.

The bad news is anyone who doesn't do this not only lives without God in this life, but also in the next life. The sad truth of rejecting Christ is hell. This is the just punishment for our rebellion against God. I don't mean to scare anyone with talk of hell - and I certainly don't mean to insinuate that Zidane is going to hell because he headbutted another player. A thousand times no! If anyone goes to hell it has nothing to do with the sum total of our behavior during our life - whether we go to heaven or hell is decided by whether or not we realize our sin and turn to Christ for help, accepting his death on our behalf and his grace to renounce our sin and turn from it. This is the only deciding factor - it has nothing to do with headbutting or cigarette butting or butting in line. We are all born with sin, and thus all heading toward hell. There's nothing especially bad about Zidane - every person on the planet is in the same boat. We've all got a big problem, and there's a fix for it if we're willing to turn from our rebellion, accept Christ's death for us, and live by God's rules.

Like I said, I've been praying for Zidane. When I see high profile displays of sin like this I'm reminded that I'm no different. I have the potential for headbutting someone who says nasty things to me after a long day at work. I have the potential for far worse things! If I'm any more like Jesus than anyone else, that's completely God's work in me. I couldn't have worked that change on my own. So even though I can know that Zidane's behavior was wrong based on scripture, I don't judge him. I'm a sinner too. Thank God there's a savior for any who call on him!

The best headline I could imagine coming out of this dramatic game would be that Zidane would realize his need for a savior. But in my oppinion is that anyone coming to Christ is worthy of headlines.

Oh, and for the record - I don't want it to seem like I'm letting Materazzi off the hook. As his words are still unconfirmed, I won't comment on them. But if it's as bad as people are speculating, he evidenced his need for a savior too - and a headline saying that he recognized his need for a savior would be just as great.

Maintenance

I finished Philippians the other day and started Colossians.

As I started reading this new book of the bible, I was greeted with this passage:

"And so, from the day we heard, we have not ceased to pray for you, asking that
you may be filled with the knowledge of his will in all spiritual wisdom and
understanding, so as to walk in a manner worthy of the Lord, fully pleasing to
him, bearing fruit in every good work and increasing in the knowledge of God.
May you be strengthened with all power, according to his glorious might, for all
endurance and patience with joy, giving thanks to the Father, who has qualified
you to share in the inheritance of the saints in light. He has delivered us from
the domain of darkness and transferred us to the kingdom of his beloved Son, in
whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins." --Col 1:9-14

Aw, how nice. It is a very pretty prayer for a pastor to pray for his congregation. But I was struck by the implications of this prayer. First, Paul prays that the Colossians would have wisdom to know God's will, and thus could walk in a way that pleased him in everything, and eventually know him more. Second he prays that they'd have the stregnth to endure anything with patience and joy, giving thanks to the God who saved their souls from hell. Then, as he's always faithful to do, he throws in the Gospel by way of reminder.

Pause over this for a moment. Know God's will. Please him in everything. Know him more. Endure all circumstances with patience and joy. Give thanks no matter what for the Gospel. These are wonderful aspirations! I want these things for my own life. I was so affected by how well-rounded this prayer was in attacking many of the root problems of our sin and pointing us back to the God who saved us that I decided to pray it for myself every day. If I could mantain the major points of this prayer in my life, I would see alot of fruit. I need to be specific in my prayers in battling my sin also, but this is a great all-around prayer. This is a wonderful maintenance prayer for the christian life.

Funny Doctor Story #5

I had done the paperwork and arrangements for Dr. Freakout to go to Seattle for a conference a couple months ago. In late June he left for said conference. Yesterday he was back to work.

Given that I had done the paperwork for his trip, I knew that he'd be taking a couple days of leave after the conference to go to Olypic National Park. So when I saw him, forget the RNA Society, forget his plane ride, I called down the hall "How was Olypic?"

He invited me into his office and told me about his trip. One of the things he mentioned was a trail he'd hiked that led to the largest Yellow Cedar tree in the country.

"I find though," he said, gesticulating to the cedar's location on the PDF map on his monitor, "that these old cedar trees are not that interesting."

"But they've got to be huge," I said.

"Huge yes," he said, matter of factly, "But they look like they're dying. If you contrast them with the giant Redwoods in northern california, they look decrepit. The Redwoods actually look like their having a happy life."

I chuckled at his personification of the trees as we pursued the topic further. "This cedar," he said, flicking toward the monitor again, "will live, but it looks miserable. The Redwoods look jovial and the only thing that I've heard will kill them is if they fall over."

My brain did a quick scan of the possible inducements that could knock down one of those trees. Wind? Too-soft earth? A very committed and tenacious beaver? None seemed very likely in California. "What would knock those mammoth's down?" I asked.

"Well, they don't put their roots down very low."

I couldn't resist. "Pretty dumb trees," I said.

He looked at me like it was the weirdest thing in the world to personify a tree. "What?" he said.

"Well they grow to be so top heavy and yet they don't put down deep roots."

"But they're magnificent," he countered.

"Magnificent maybe," I offered, "but daft."

He shrugged his shoulders in his classic way and we went on to talk about the Grand Canyon.

Worry

I think I mentioned yesterday that I was worried for my future when I considered my thyroid disease. Well, I went home and had my quiet time and was met with this:

"Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. Let your reasonableness be known to everyone. The Lord is at hand; do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. What you have learned and received and heard and seen in me--practice these things, and the God of peace will be with you." --Phil :4-9

Wow. Didn't I also say yesterday that I wished I could get my truth administered intraveinously? Here's my antiodote injection. God really spoke to me through this passage.

First is a small evidence of a biblical theme: "rejoice in the Lord always." Elsewhere scripture says to rejoice in trials and count sufferings joy. When we face affliction in life, even then we should be rejoicing - but in what? In the Lord. Then Paul implores us to let our "reasonableness be known to everyone". This 'reasonableness' is forebearance, or patiently bearing up under a given circumstance. We're to endure.

Now here was gold: "be anxious about nothing." The bible doesn't throw in these all exclusive statements by accident. When it says to be anxious about nothing, it means nothing. But scripture rarely tells us not to do something without giving us something we should do instead. Instead of being axious, we're to pray and make our requests known to God against the backdrop of thanksgiving. We're not to approach God with an angry, bitter heart, demanding change, but to humbly come to him and thank him for his goodness, even in the midst of trial, and though we make our preference known to him, be ready to accept his soveriegn will.

Now, what's the incentive for this? "And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus." We're not to worry, but we're to pray and depend on God, and when we do so, we'll recieve God's peace. God's peace! Peace is the antithesis of worry. God has given us an escape hatch from worry - trust in him. By praying we're expressing our dependence on him, and to do that honestly we have to develop a genuine trust in his character. We have to come to a place where we believe he loves us and will take care of us. When we have this, we will have God's peace. It does indeed surpass all understanding.

But that's not all. The passage goes on to arm us further in our fight against worry. We're to focus our thoughts on anything that is true, honorable, just, pure, lovely, commendable, excellent, and worthy of praise - instaed of letting the object of our worry consume our minds. If we do this and practice godliness, "The God of peace will be with us". It's worth it to focus my thoughts away from the object of my worry and onto all things good and godly, because the God of peace will be with us. In my mind, that's good company.

Weakness

I'm sick again.

Sometimes I feel like I'll never be well. I totally dispair for my future. I didn't get up to have my quiet time this morning - and I don't know if I'll be awake enough to have one when I get home.

At times like these I need a quick hit of truth. Here was my choice this morning:

"Why do you say, O Jacob, and speak, O Israel,"My way is hidden from the LORD, and my right is disregarded by my God"? Have you not known? Have you not heard? The LORD is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He does not faint or grow weary; his understanding is unsearchable. He gives power to the faint, and to him who has no might he increases strength. Even youths shall faint and be weary, and young men shall fall exhausted; but they who wait for the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint." --Isaiah 40:27-31

boy, I almost wish I could take the stuff intravenously. What a promise. And though it's miserable being sick, this promise is made all the sweeter because of my illness. If I were strong and healthy, I probably wouldn't give promises like this the time of day. I'd think that it was certainly a beautiful thought, but I would - if I were honest with myself - believe I didn't need such promises.

I thank God for this illness. It's making me see just how much I need him. And the truth is I wouldn't need him any less if I were perfectly healthy - I'd just be more susceptible to the deception that I was self sufficient. I'm glad for these circumstances breaking down that lie in my mind. And hopefully, if God sees it fit to heal me of this disorder, I'll be able to hold on to the truth that I need God for my stregth even when I'm healthy.

Freedom

How was your 4th? Good I hope. Mine was nice. I started out with a rigorous hike and ended with popcorn in bed and a good book. No fireworks, but I got alot of good time with my husband (he beats fireworks anyday!)

While celebrating America's freedom from British rule is great, there's another freedom that came to my mind yesterday...

"There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. For the law of the Spirit of life has set you free in Christ Jesus from the law of sin and death." --Romans 8:1-2

Let's not forget our ultimate freedom in all the hype of independence day.

Clarity

I'm emotional today.

Don't laugh at me! This is weird! I don't normally get emotional like this. Sure, I have emotions, I'm a woman! But I can usually say "ok, that thing happend and now I'm sad," or "such-n-such occured and now I'm angry." But today I just feel completely a jumble of unclear feelings, some of which seem to be extremely happy, others of which seem to be sorrowful. I don't know what brought it all on. I can't identify any triggers. And I don't like it.

By the way, I'm not pregnant, so don't ask.

I can't put another title on it except "confusion."

Ask my husband - when I can't figure something out, I get real out of sorts. If I can't see the logic in a situation, I grow very angsty.

Well I'm angsty today, dangit. I'm not used to this and it doesn't make any sense. I don't know which way's up. Anybody got any hints? Maps? Road signs?

How about a guide book? I got one. And it's pretty clear about which way's up:

"Commit your way to the LORD; trust in him, and he will act." --Psalm 37:5

Simple enough. My feelings may not be clear, but I can commit my way to God and trust him, and he will act on my behalf.

**Correction to Card

I had an adventure the other day. They're never far away when you work in a medical school. This isn't really a funny doctor story. It only involves myself, our budget officer and a lab tech. I thought "Funny budget officer, lab tech, and me story # 1" might be awkward.

I was on my way downstairs to collect a fedex recieved for one of my doctors that morning. As I headed for the stairs, a contracted construction worker called to me.

"Excuse me, do you know what I should do with these?"

I turned around to greet the enormous man, who leaned a heavy lead pipe over one shoulder and extended two small plastic bags to me with the unoccupied hand. I couldn't see what they were until I got closer. Upon near examination I saw what these bags contained - mice. Yes, little white lab mice. But there was something else in the bag: a card. A white card - with big red letters boldy stating BURN.

I can honestly say I have no idea what was done to those mice to necesitate the inceneration of their carcasses, but you can guess where my mind went. Though dead, these mice were infecteous, and had obviously fallen off someone's cart who was taking them to be safely disposed of after experimentation.

"Where did you find these?" I asked, gingerly taking the mice from him.

"In the freight elevator vestibule," he answered very kindly. He looked as apprehensive as I felt. Neither of us being scientists, dealing with these highly scientific mice was a little frightening. I mean hey, I've read The Hot Zone. He looked like he had too.

"Probably fell off a cart," I said, still holding the little beggars 2 feet away from all my bodily orphases or muchus membranes. "I'll take care of them." He nodded gratefully and went back to his work.

I turned around and headed back toward my department. Someone there would know what to do with contageous mice - or at least have a lighter.

After stopping into Miss Money's office to show her my prize, I ran into Salty, a lab tech for the vice chair. I got his attention I showed him my new friends. After a surprised belly laugh that I never would have expected from a man his size (he's a rather small fellow) he asked where I got the mice.

"Found 'em" I said. He took one bag from my hand (still 2 feet away from my head and all therein) without fear and looked at the BURN tag. There was other information written on there as well, such as the lab that had used those mice for experiements.

Salty read me the lab name, and said I'd better return the mice and let them know what happened. They certainly wouldn't want it happening again. So I walked the entire length of the department on the tag scanning the door tags for the lab in question, never finding it. I must have passed a dozen labs, none of them the guilty party. I came to the end of the department's horseshoe shaped hallway and was spotted by Salty again.

"No luck?" he asked in his completely unworried way.

"Nope," I relayed.

"Well, let's pop in the office and ask," he suggested. We did so. When we arrived, Salty grabbed the bags, again, completely unworried, and asked where the lab was. The secretary took us to it and knocked.

Now, Salty may have known something I didn't, or maybe all his years in science have given him special powers to use against infecteous mice, but when I saw the lab we were taken to I questioned his confidence (and his super powers). I recognized this lab. This was the lab that had those special sensors beside the door, the one's that you could hear beeping even in our department as the researchers scanned a special badge, the badge that means they signed the "I know I'm risking my life to go in here" paper.

Well, maybe I'm exaggerating a little. It only had a biosafety level 2 rating, which doesn't require stuff like gas masks and space suits. But It does require that the agents their working with be kept contained. Hence the special doors. Maybe Salty's nonchelance was meritted.

A very content looking fellow answered the door. The secretary explained what was going on and Salty held up the specimins. His eyes grew wide when he saw them and he grabbed them and examined the tag. He seemed to grow less fearful as he read the tag, and asked where I'd found them and I told him, and he looked up at me with the most sincere expression I'd ever seen and said very, very emphatically "I'm so glad you found them and not EHOS..."

('EHOS' is the Environmental Health and Safety department. Their mission is to punish anyone who so much as sneezes in the cafeteria without covering their mouth and immediately washing their hand.)

We all parted on lovely terms and I'm sure the mice were...taken care of.

When I came back I found a sticket on my desk. I recognized Miss Money's handwriting. She's criminally whitty and is fond of leaving humerous notes on my desk. I should have expected this one:

"Mouse-in-bag
**CORRECTION TO CARD

Should read: EAT"

The Ache

I'm starting to feel it again...

I pulled a necklace out of my jewelry box a couple days ago. It's a beautiful silver filagree piece from Indonesia. I turned to my husband.

"You know we haven't taken a real trip for 2 years?"

He looked up at me apologetically. "You getting wrestless?"

I dropped my eyes and didn't answer. I didn't want to make him guilty. It wasn't his decision that kept us from traveling, that's for sure. I knew he was a wrestless as me. But if the means aren't there, they aren't there.

I used to discribe this wrestlessness to my friends as "the ache". Whenever I got cabin fever, I just told them I was feeling the ache. I used to write about it. Below are some poems I wrote a couple of years ago.

-----------------------

Gypsy Blood~

So, you say you want to know
Why I do not claim a home?
Why I much prefer the road
And gypsy cart as my abode?
So you want to understand?
Well, follow me and lend a hand.
Got a recipe, I do
And it might fit the likes of you.
If you at first don’t understand
You never will, and never can.
But if you do, then maybe I
Have found someone to share the ride.

Throw your pipe dreams in the mix,
The flukes, the quirks you want to fix,
I'll throw in my wanderlust,
And some leftover sandal dust,
That twinge in your nose, or thumb perhaps,
That comes from looking at too many maps.
Secret hopes that you’ve protected
Old adventures recollected.
Throw them in, and close the lid
We'll let it sit then place our bids.

Ah, it's finished, bring the ladle
And join me here at the table
Here’s your glass – I’ll fill it full
Now take it up and have a pull.

So you like it? I do too.
I thought it would agree with you.
You seem to look with different eyes
At all there is to see – Besides,
The feel was always in your core,
The drink just makes you feel it more.
From birth the feel’s run through your veins
And no, it never goes away.
And yes, it is a curse, I know
Having to stay but longing to go.
The need to always run or veer
Away from what the they all call ‘here’.
The ache that throbs beside your heart
Will never quell until you start
To look for all the roads untraveled
Stitch up dreams someone unraveled,
Top the very best you’ve done,
To run till you yourself are stunned.

What’s the ache, I hear you ask?
It’s the wine that’s in your glass
That need to beet the path down smooth
That need to always be on the move
That need to tred untrodden mud
That, my friend, is Gypsy Blood.

--------------------------

Defining 'Wanderlust'~

Where do the little roads go?
Does anybody know?
Does anyone care
If they stay here or go there?
If they end
If they bend
If they curve
If they swerve
If they’re long or if they’re short
If they end in wood or port
Would they take me to the hills?
And would I learn the hills fulfill?
Would they take me to the wood?
And would I find the wood is good?
Would they take me to the sea?
And would I find the sea in me?
Do people search for small back roads
Like little boys for little toads?
Or do roads long for traveling trekkers
Like the wood for woody peckers?
If they do, am I obliging
Of myself or to their tidings?
Do they beckon wand’ring heels
And is that what my spirit feels
When I do inside abide
And wish to be on yonder side
Of the widow’s see-through face
The trail’s conclusion sweet to taste.
Do I set off on own accord
Or react to calling words?
Do roads yearn to be traversed?
And would a road be thought of cursed
If deprived of plodding feet…
Are plodding feet it’s plotting’s treat?
The question central to this musing
Is “Do I go of my own choosing?”
Or do I hear all day long
The road’s sirenic, drawing song…
In my ears this song is built,
But in my heart, do I feel guilt?
Guilt of stealing from the path…
Could this be the aftermath
Of robbing the road of its desire-
And is this robbing truly dire?
Am I interpreting this ‘guilt’
As something in me not fulfilled?
That threat’ning in me to soon go mad
Unless a trip can soon be had
Would “I must go!” be better said
“I must pay my due to the road” instead?
The guilt at leaving the road untouched-
Is that what I call “wanderlust”?

-----------------------

Quote the Ocean~

The sea sang its song as he played along
And kept time with the tap of his foot

His leg o'er the dock, the ocean did mock
The brown tip of the toe of his boot.

Quoth the Ocean "You want to, my chantey does haunt you
It tugs on the walls of your heart.

"So close and so far, still stuck there you are,
Why do you not up and depart?"

"Tis true," said the man, his guitar in his hand,
his gazed held by Valhalla's halls

"Constantly Sirens who cross your horizons
taunt me with beckons and calls"

Quoth the Ocean "The time's perfect! Step down on my surface!
I'll carry you to where they sing

"You're insides grow bleary, your life it grows weary
of balancing on a guitar string."

Quoth the man "What far places, what lingering traces
Of old will I see if I go?

"What have you to offer that would make my suffer-
ing worth it, I'd like to know?"

Quoth the Ocean "Why ask me? Why do you harass me?
You do not care where you reside.

"Suffering!" Ocean sneered "You suffer more here!
You ache for the wide open path,

"For unending sky is the only reply
To that ache that will sooth it's sharp wrath"

Quoth the man "You see through me. You're waves do undo me
I have nothing to stay for at all.

"Yet all things to go for, what have I to show for
my years of ignoring your call?"

Quoth the Ocean "You've nothing but hollowed out suff'ring
And a hollowed out heart for it's twin

"You'll die from your wondering, thinking and pondering
What your now stagnant life could have been"

Quoth the Man "So what you suppose is that I do not know this?
That I have not thought this same thing?"

Quoth the Ocean "Don't raise your voice! It's been all your choice
to stay there or go where mermaids sing."

Quoth the Man "There you're wrong, I do hear their song
But I've fetters my own to contend with.

"It tears at my middle to see even a little
of what I could be thrown to the wind with."

"The sun sings it's chorus, up with it comes Horus
to jeer from his place far away

"At my current unluckiness and how I am stuck in this
place where I'll rot and decay."

"So all you don't care for is what you stay there for?"
Quoth the Ocean in final attempt

"I'm tied into staying with chords never fraying."
The Ocean still sings his lament

So his fingers did strum as he inwardly hummed
Of his longing to wander and roam

And grew the sea's chantey, and with it his fancy
To see what laid beyond its white foam

Good Fruit

Life's been pretty good lately. My excellent husband made a little candle-light tea party on the deck for me last night (my favorite white tea with lime zest!). He took some time to encourage me, telling me the ways I'd grown over the past year or so. There were some pretty exciting ones, like trust in God is coming more to typify my life and inform my actions. Oh, and he said I was growing in mastering the gentle and quiet spirit talked about in 2 Timothy. There were some other things too. It was really nice to sit on the porch on a cool summer night, listening to the rainfall, the scent of our herbs stirred up by the rain, the steam of the tea spiraling around in the undillating candle light, being encouraged by the man I love most in the cosmos.

Then we went to sleep, and sleep always means you have to be rudely awakened by an alarm clock, that blasted Promethean Duck, the thing that squawks and squawks every morning until you slay it, only to squawk and squawk the next morning to be slain again. I dispise my Promethean Duck.

I awake every morning, a bit before 6 as Kari the Duck Slayer. I don't have the option of ignoring it because of my time sensitive thyroid meds. I get up, slay the duck, and stumbled into the bathroom to take my meds. Obligations fulfilled, the battle starts. Here's how it usually goes:

"I'd sure feel better if I just got 10 more minutes of sleep..."
"But I really need to go have my quiet time..."
"I won't be able to function today if I didn't get enough sleep..."
"If I don't have my quiet time now, I won't get it in today, I just know it..."

But here's what I thought this morning:

"Plucky's turning on the shower and jumping right in. I want the good fruit to continue."

Stephan confirmed alot of good fruit in my life last night. I've got a long way to go toward Christ-likeness, but growth is happening through grace. Does anyone else notice the drastic difference in their life when they're consistantly meeting with the Lord? There's nothing magical about having a quiet time. The change comes when we humbly express our constant need for God, his wisdom, his guidance, and his strength by studying his word and praying. He delivers these things when we're faithful to seek them from his hand. Is it any wonder that the longer and more diligently we dwell in his presence, the more we see good, godly fruit coming to bear in our life? If it's true we reap what we sow, then we shouldn't be surprised.

When I'm in a season where I look around and see nothing but rotten, pudrid fruit all around, then I was sowing to something rotten - sin. Just the opposite is true when I see good fruit - it's because, by grace, I've been sowing to godliness.

So when the duck began wailing this morning, I remembered the good fruit Stephan pointed out last night - in my marriage and in my own life - and wanted to continue sowing to that. I can't help but marvel at the grace that's been poured out on my life to get me to this point. Any change is only by grace. God is so kind - but I don't want to lose ground in sowing.

So God give the duck long life and health and every blessing.

The Gospel

Wow. It's been a long time since I posted. So much for journaling, eh? Well, as I re-enter the blogsphere, I thought I'd re-post my favorite entry. I can't get enough of it.

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THE GOSPEL

My husband got up this morning and shouted that which he's been shouting for about 2 weeks now - properly modified, of course:

There's only 3 more sleeps 'till Christmas!!

Christmas is getting closer. And as it does, I find myself increasingly tempted to forget why I celebrate and be overwhelmed by all the 'stuff' I've got to do. So I need a reminder: I celebrate because my savior, Jesus, was born on Christmas. Oh man, Jesus again. What's so special about him? Why is he getting so much attention? I'd love to tell you.

There are a few other things you have to understand before you can understand why Jesus is so special. The first is you have to understand God.

God is holy. All those 'rules' in the Bible are merely a description of God's character. When he calls us to be patient, he's already been perfectly consistent in patients. When he calls us to be loving, he's already been perfectly consistent in love. "Holy", (very) simply put, means never having broken any of these rules - never violated the standard.

God is also just. Since he created the universe, he's got the right to also create 'the rules'. God is the earth's authority, and his rules are to be obeyed. When we disobey, it's called 'sin'. When we break the rules, we aren't just misbehaving. We're violating the holy standard - we're rebelling against a holy God. As John Piper puts it in his book The Passion of the Christ, "Sin isn't trivial - it's treason." When there's rebellion in an earthly kingdom, the King must address the rebels and administer justice. God can let no sin go unpunished or he wouldn't be perfectly just. He has to bring the sinners to justice.

God is also loving. He created us and he loves us - without condition.

We also have to understand who we are. We are sinners. The bible doesn't mince words about this:


"...For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God." -Romans 3:23

Pretty clear. All. No one is without sin. So what's so bad about this? Well, we've already seen that sin is breaking the rules and rebelling against God. When we break the rules, we violate God's holiness. God can't allow sin into his presence because he would be tainted. One sin - breaking the rules only once - is enough to make us unholy - to make us sinners - and thus estrange us from God. This is the human condition - we are separated from God by our sin.

This leaves us in a very precarious place. If we aren't near God, we're far away. And after we die, we'll still be far away. This is the true gravity of our situation. After death, 'with God' is heaven - 'far away from God' is hell. Because of our sin, we're all hell bound.

You may have caught a contradiction by this point. But how can God allow that? Didn't I say earlier that God is perfectly loving and loves us unconditionally? This doesn't jive.

Another thing about God is that he will not fudge on any part of his character to satisfy another part. He can't fudge on his justice to be all loving, and he can't fudge on his love to administer justice. So now it seems to us like God kinda has a problem. How can he punish us for our sin - for our rebellion - and still love us regardless of our sinfulness?

This is the exciting part! God came up with the most ingenious plan. He created a substitute for us. Guess who? Right - Jesus. We stood before God as rebels stand before a king - worthy of the kings wrath and punishment. But God sent his son, Jesus, born on Christmas, to live a perfectly sinless life. Because he did that, he didn't have any of his own sin to be punished for, and he could be our substitutionary 'whipping boy'. God punished him for our sins - that's what happened on the Cross. Did you see The Passion of the Christ movie? Pretty nasty, huh? Well, when you consider that Jesus was enduring the punishment for every sin committed by every person in every generation in every nation in the whole world for all time - well, that's a lot of punishment. But Jesus did it willingly out of love. God did it willingly out of love.

So now all parts of God's character are satisfied: His justice was satisfied because our sins were punished - but the punishment was dealt to Christ instead of us. His love is satisfied because now, if we've accepted Christ's sacrifice on our behalf, God doesn't see us as sinners and rebels - he sees us as perfectly obedient, just like Jesus was, and there's no need to punish us. His holiness is satisfied because since we've been credited with Jesus' obedience, we aren't bringing sin into his presence. He remains perfectly holy.

See what happened? God, in his love, provided a way out! There's now the potential for a swap! Jesus took on all our sin. That part's done. We can now take this 'escape hatch' from hell by taking on all his obedience. This is where we have a choice to make: are we going to accept Jesus substitution for us? It's not as easy as just saying "sure, I accept." We've got to honestly and humbly admit that yes, we are rebels. We don't want to submit to God's rules. We want to make our own rules, and because of that, we need someone to be perfectly obedient on our behalf - we need a savior. Once we admit that, we've got to be willing to lay down all the rules we were living by and submit to God's rules - which are ultimately better for us because God loves us so much and wants the best for us.

And what's all this? This is the Good News - that's what "Gospel" means. And it is the best news we could ever have recieved! When Christians talk about the Gospel, this is what they mean.

I hope this explains why I was so excited by "being reconciled to God", like I wrote in yesterday's post. As a person who was on her way to hell, being close to God again with the hope of heaven is better than anything else!

If you're reading this and have already put your faith in Christ, be encouraged afresh! If you're reading this and haven't, I'd encourage you to explore it more. Thumbs up or down on this is the most important choice you'll ever make. I'd encourage you to find a church this Christmas eve and check this all out more. Of course, I'm partial to my family of churches (called sovereign Grace), so I'll link to the locator on their web site. I'd really encourage you to check one out if it's near you.

Whatever happens, have a great Christmas, and thanks for sticking it out through a long post!

Resolved...

Jonathan Edwards was a cool guy. And a smart guy. And by grace, a pretty darn godly guy.

But he was a guy, just like us, who had to fight his sin daily. It never really got any easier for him, just as it never does for us. We have to remain vigilant, even militant, and completely resolved.

In 1722, Johny did something I find amazing. He sat down with his journal and wrote out 21 "Resolutions" - committments or promises he was making to God. He began each with the word "Resolved."

What does "resolved" mean? You knew it was coming. Follow me to the illustrious OED...

"Resolved: a. Determined, decided, settled in purpose."

So in effect, with each of these commitments, Johny was saying "I've made up my mind to always, from this day forth..." do X thing.

Why is this amazing? Because it's militant. Johny took the offense for godliness. He wasn't just passively responding to his circumstances and temptations. He took the proverbial bull by the proverbial horns, as it were.

In my impressed state, I began to wonder: could I too be a resolutionary? Sure! Why not? The same grace that enabled Johny enables me. We have the same savior. I could write out resolutions that were applicable to my life as a wife, daughter, sister, friend, redeemed child of God and sinner.

So here they are, for posterity. And if you're interested in Johny's, you can view them here. His are better than mine, but he was wiser than me too. In fact they were so much better that I couldn't improve upon them and I commandeered them for my own. Those one's of his that I have on my list are indicated.

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Kari Faherty’s Resolutions
(with a few of Jonathan Edwards’)
- 9 May 2006 -

1. Resolved, to evaluate all things against the backdrop of the gospel.

2. Resolved, to be completely honest with myself and with God, knowing he is watching.

3. Resolved, to always ask myself “What will bring God the most glory right now?” – and do that thing.

4. Resolved, to be zealous for God’s glory, and thus not defame him myself or stand by as others do it, if I can help it.

5. Resolved, to optimize every minute for God’s glory and the advance of his kingdom without tiring.

6. Resolved, to consider myself always the chief of sinners, the queen of backsliding, and the one most in need of a savior – and let this inform my actions.

7. Resolved, to always remember my biggest problem is solved – Hell was a problem. Present affliction is nothing comparatively.

8. Resolved, if anything swells my pride, vanity or self-righteousness – or any other sin or craving – to immediately remove it from my life.

9. Resolved, to live in such a way that, when I come to old age, I will not look back and say “I’ve wasted my life.”

10. Resolved, to secure for myself as much happiness in the life to come by means of actions in the present life.

11. Resolved, to never euphemize or neutralize my descriptions of life as I perceive it, but realize that all things are either for or against God, and to be brutally vigilant to call them such.

12. Resolved, to identify the root actions and heart motivations of all my behaviors.

13. Resolved, to study scripture and the teachings of those wiser than myself with all my mental vigor, acknowledging this as the most important of studies.

14. Resolved, to spend time with God at the beginning of the day, every day, from this day until I die – and if I do not, to submit myself to the strictest scrutiny as to why I failed, both practically and spiritually.

15. Resolved, to only speak that which would please the Lord.

16. Resolved, to treat myself as if I belong to and am on loan from God.

17. Resolved, to harness every trial, heartache and discomfort to grow more into the likeness of Christ.

18. Resolved, to always act as if I had already experienced the happiness of heaven and the torments of hell.

19. “Resolved, when I fear misfortunes and adversities, to examine whether I have done my duty, and resolve to do it, and let the event be just as providence orders it. I will as far as I can, be concerned about nothing more than my duty, and my sin.” –Jonathan Edwards, Resolution #57

20. Resolved, to strive after perfection as if perfection could be attained.

21. Resolved, when my emotions are in the least out of sorts, to scrutinize myself and find out why, recognizing that my emotions are an indicator of what’s going on in my heart.

22. Resolved, to view anyone who wrongs me as a sinner who needs a savior, and myself as no different from them apart from grace.

23. Resolved, To pray for the unsaved daily.

24. Resolved, to distrust my heart.

25. Resolved, to always look where God IS moving and never where he ISN'T.

26. Resolved, to consider every correction brought to me, unless it obviously contradicts scripture.
“Resolved, to live with all my might, while I do live.” –Jonathan Edwards, Resolution #6

27. “Resolved, never to give over, nor in the least to slacken, my fight with my corruptions, however unsuccessful I may be.” –Jonathan Edwards, Resolution #56

28. “Resolved, if ever I shall fall and grow dull, so as to neglect to keep any part of these resolutions, to repent of all I can remember when I come to myself again.” –Jonathan Edwards, Resolution #3

Funny Doctor Story # 4

Dr. Freakout came in a couple days ago. Usually he comes in quietly and stands in front of my desk until I notice him. This time he came right around my desk and stood by my window.

"Look at the flotillas," he said.

I looked out at the lake below my window and there were the geese, swimming in groups.

"A group of geese is called a flotilla?" I asked.

"If they're on the water," he said. "And look there," he pointed, "There are 4 goslings there, and 3 over here." He then looked at me with a superior gaze (nose literally in teh air) and said "Did you know a baby goose was called a gosling?"

"Yes," I said.

"Do you know what a baby swan is called?" he said, laying his trap.

"A swanling?" I offered.

"Jonah would know."

At this point I started searching my memory for swan references in the biblical account of Jonah. Finding none, I raised an eyebrow.

"Jonah is my 6 year old nephew," he said.

At this point I became interested, because Dr. Freakout is not the kind of guy who would care to mention his 6 year old nephew, let alone what he said next.

"How does Jonah know?" I asked, thinking perhaps the rigorous scientist before me was already seeing to his nephew's biology education.

"It's in Stewart Little. I was reading him Steward Little."

Now, picture with me, if you can, a pink-faced, balding but well kept bearded man, with a polo collar sticking out of his sweatshirt and real tennis shoes, curled up in a big arm chair with a six year old and Steward Little on his lap. I could have cried. I think he noticed because he answered his own question.

"It's a signet," he said. "A baby swan is a signet."

Perhaps I was badly prepared by the cute image of this curmudgeon reading a book to his nephew, because I for some reason found the word "signet" insupressively cute in itself. My thoughts ran all over the place, ending in the conclusion that I would fine for myself a little white dog, a very cute one, and name it Signet - "Siggy" for short.

I caught myself again, however, before articulating any of this, and simply said "Signet. I'll remember that."

"However, I don't know what a group of swans is called..." Dr. Freakout said as he left the office.

Well, that was homework if ever I was given homework. I immediately turned to the computer and sought out what a group of swans was called. Upon finding it, I sent Dr. Freakout this email:

"A Group of Swans is a 'whiteness' of swans. I particularly like the 'ostentation of peacocks' as well"

A group of peacoks is an 'ostentation'.

He responded in kind:

"Crows murder. Ravens are just unkind."

A group of crows is a 'murder of crows'. A group of ravens is an 'unkindness of ravens'.

of course I noticed this one, being still in a highly sensitive state to all things cute: a group of hummingbirds is 'a charm of humming birds'.

Early in July...

Early in July God saved me. I have very fond memories of that time. I was at a youth camp in an abandoned Swiss Army camp - yes, in Switzerland. In the Alps, even. I was in a little town called Grindlewald, outside Interlaken. I kneeled down on a wet balcony in the evening, and staring up at a humongous mountain, I told the Lord my life was his from that second on.

I can hear you sighing. "Picture perfect..." you think. Well, it was until I went back inside and saw everyone flocking toward the pubs - where there were televisions. Yep, something else was going on early in July...

I thought it was silly in 1997. What do I have to say now?

2 to 4, Germany.

Funny Doctor Story # 3

The Course Director came in the other day asking to be let into the store room where we keep all our office supplies. This room is locked for a reason that has been obsolete and passe for a long time. But the lock remains, and staff must come to the office to ask me to let them into the store room if they want so much as a ball-point pen.

"Do you have devious intentions?" I asked the Course Director.

He looked as if I could not have made a more serious accusation against his character if I'd contrived to.

"What?" he said.

"Are you going to steal anything?" I asked.

The offended look grew more intense.

"Just say you won't," I emplored him.

"I won't," he said, distrustfully.

I pointed immediately to a drawer in my supervisor's desk. We were alone in the office and I was extremely busy, and didn't feel like getting up to supervise him while he grabbed sticket notes. I decided it would hurt nothing to show him the secret location of the key, which, in my mind, was no secret at all, since everyone who ever needed white out had seen us to into that drawer and take the key out.

"Open that drawer," I said. After a brief game of something like "hot and cold" he located the drawer and opened it. I gave him a few more instructions that revealed the location of the key under a very nondiscript desk item. He took the key and used it to access his sticket notes, then brought it back to me.

"Don't tell anyone you know where the key is," I said as he placed it back in my palm.

"I won't," he assured me. "But why'd you tell me if I shouldn't know?"

"Because everyone knows already," I asserted. "We've kept it in that drawer since I've been here - all we've done recently is move it 3 inches to the left and put it under something. Anyone could find it if they moved stuff around."

"I never would have found it," he said with a superior tone in his voice. He exited promptly, looking at me like he really stuck me one.

I lowered my eyebrows. I was reminded of something my brother said to me once: "Gee sis, you could be a knock out if you just tried." Um, thanks?

So here again - how does one respond? Who's the fool? Me because I revealed the key? Or the Course Director because he never would have found it?

A Temple of the Holy Spirit

"But the LORD said to Samuel, "Do not look on his appearance or on the height of his stature, because I have rejected him. For the LORD sees not as man sees: man looks on the outward appearance, but the LORD looks on the heart." --1 Sam 16:7

Most of us are familiar with this passage - Samuel the prophet has been told to annoint the next king of Israel, and is going through the line up of Jesse's sons. He sees an attractive one and says to himself 'this has got to be the guy!' But God responds in the verse above. "I have rejected him. Man looks on the outward appearance, but the LORD looks on the heart." This is my theme verse as I embark on a pretty rigorous health overhaul. I've got access to gym equipment, my diet is pretty well under control, and I've even picked some sports to focus on that will develop the skills and strengths I desire to have. Shoot, I've even got the determination to make it happen! I've got all the equipment - but I hope I can hold on to a good heart motivation...

As I've been studying how to approach this, I was reminded of an interaction I had with a woman not to long ago. I was telling her how I hadn't been eating very much or very well over the past week, and she responded by saying "that's awful! You need to be more careful - you're body is a temple of the holy spirit."

I don't know when the mindset of "it's my responsibility to eat well and exercise because my body is a temple of the holy spirit" started, it's never sat right with me. In my study, I haven't found any scripture that directs us to think this way. I sometimes wonder if this isn't a dangerous way of thinking.

There's no scripture exhorting us anywhere to stay physically fit to the end of 'taking care of our temple'. The verses most often cited as a proof text that we are to stay physically fit because our bodies are temples are 1 Corinthians 6:19-20

"Or do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you, whom you have from God? You are not your own, for you were bought with a price. So glorify God in your body."

Sounds convincing when it stands alone, but that is one of the most dangerous ways to read the bible. When considering a topic, we have to discipline ourselves to consider what the whole bible says about a given subject, not just what a single verse says about it. When you read this passage in context, we see that what Paul is talking about is sexual purity. "Glorifying god in your body", as used in this passage, is abstaining from sexual sin. Sexual sin defiles our temple - having physical flaws doesn't. A fit body isn't a prerequisit to God's presence, but a pure heart is - that's the whole reason we have to be justified. If a fit body were mandatory, we'd all have been made supermodels at the time of our conversion (and there would be ALOT more converts to Christianity!)

It seems, as usual, that as I embark on this mission to get healthier that God is concerned with my heart. I wouldn't think God is pleased if we're in great shape but our motivations in getting that way were sinful. I'm surprised how I often hear women use the temple analogy in the context of eating well and exercising, and it always makes me raise an eyebrow. I wonder if this way of thinking doesn't sometimes trap us - we end up striving only after changing our bodies under the guise of 'taking care of our temple', thinking that's what God wants, without addressing our hearts. "I'm taking care of my temple..." Sounds so righteous and godly when contrasted with being vain and proud.

Scripture is clear - directly and indirectly - that God doesn't look at us and see us as we see each other. He's examining our hearts. I haven't seen anywhere in scripture where eating well and exercising are perscribed as a way to take care of our temple. If it were, then God would have issued a command that some of his people couldn't keep - namely the physically deformed and disabled.

Don't misunderstand me. I'm the first to get up and cheer for eating well and exercising - and Scripture is clear that these are good things. Daniel and his friends drank and ate water and veggies for just 10 days and were discribed as "better in appearance" than the rest of their class who was eating meat and wine every day. Overeating is clearly discouraged in Proverbs 23:20-21. And the famous Proverbs 31 woman is commended for making her arms strong. "Making" implies work was done to get them that way. When I stand next to my husband, I'm aware that I don't have naturally strong arms, like he does. She had to work to make her arms strong - she must have exercised in some way, be it deliberate or through her daily tasks, and she is honored for it. But our motivation in doing those things should be to glorify God, not to change our bodies. If glorifying god is better done through a healthier, fitter body, we should certainly persue that! But we should all be in a place in our hearts where we really aren't concerned with our body's shape - only it's function to assist us in glorifying God in our actions. Granted, being fit usually helps us functionally to serve God, but it seems we have to tread carefully, realizing that fitness in itself isn't something God demands of us - a pure heart before him is. A healthier lifestyle should only be pursued in tandem with a healthier heart, never by itself for the sake of 'temple maintenance'. This is why I raise an eyebrow when I hear "I should take better care of myself BECAUSE my body is a temple" instead of "I should take better care of myself BECAUSE it will better enable me to glorify God in my actions."

What does Scripture have to say? It's pretty straight forward: "For the kingdom of God is not a matter of eating and drinking but of righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy Spirit. " (Rom 14:17) The food isn't God's concern. Our hearts are. Scripture has alot to say about food, but it's all in context of our hearts and whether or not we're making the gospel more or less attractive to a watching world through our actions.