prayers answered

I've a small booklet given to me by Bill Nash that reads Prayers Asked on one side and Prayers Answered on the other. I started keeping up with it, but trailed off years ago ... I think because I realized that all prayers are answered ... in time. About eighteen months ago I remember praying over Vicki Spargo, anointing her with oil, and asking for her healing from cancer. Yesterday, she was taken from the cancer. What an irony that as she was leaving this world, a group of friends surrounded me and prayed that no blockage would be found in my heart, that GOD would heal my heart and the doctors would find nothing wrong. But I had seen the photographs from the nuclear stress test that showed an area that was oxygen deprived and I'd had the conversation with the cardiologist who sensed the urgency to do the catheterization to remedy the problem. So when he told me and the family that there was no blockage ... that occasionally the tests show a 'false reading' ... I knew in my mind what had occurred. I trust that I have been touched by the healing hand of the great physician. Last night at 1:22 am I woke up to answer the call of nature. But as I returned to bed the full moon was illuminating the prayer bench I made for Karen two years ago - as clearly as if it was under the spotlight of a broadway stage. I accepted that invitation and gave thanks again before I returned to my bed. GOD is good and no, I don't understand ... but I accept. Praise GOD!

Several hundred years ago, someone took the time to clear these fields, stack the rock plowed from the fields, terrace the land, then plant and build trellis for the vinyards. This photo was taken last summer outside Rome at a villa that used to be the home of the Spanish Embassy in Italy.

I told myself when I began that I would not feel guilty if I did not make regular entry to this site. I do not feel guilty, but somewhat melancholy ... I've missed being here. Somehow in writing my thoughts out where at least I can see them helps me to get in touch with the reality of where I am - who I am. I tried to think back over the days since last I wrote here ... they have been busy ... too busy. Consumed with good things, but neverthelesss, consumed. Between living my daily walk, spending time with family, ministering to people in need, meetings at church, meetings at school, teaching and planning for school, yada yada yada... I've not taken or made enough time to walk away to a quiet place to pray. Jesus was consumed by the crowds, by meeting the needs of his disciples, settling the quarrels among his apostles, teaching, healing, spending his days dedicated to telling his story and reminding the people of the urgency that the Kingdom of Heaven is near. No, I do not compare myself to the Christ ... I am not worthy to tie his sandals ... but I am trying to follow him. Even he admitted that his life was not his own, but belonged to the one who sent him.

So, I return to the written page - at least today ... perhaps tomorrow. What I have to say is important - at least to me - because I write it down, it becomes permanent...a benchmark to return to later and think to myself, "Have I grown from there?" It is amazing how a visit to the cardiologist clarifies one's purpose ... pushes everything else to the side of the table and challenges you to choose what is most meaningful. So today, I think I'll build a trellis for the green beans ... that seems important doesn't it?

Every day I write a quote on my chalkboard. I'll leave with yesterday's quote:

"Life is not about trying to avoid the storms, but learning to dance in the rain!"

During my spring break I decided to take a sabbatical from here, determined that I would not feel guilty because I'd not posted a recent entry. I was successful. The first two days of last week were horrible and even still gave me lessons for life. Monday afternoon I was blindsided by either a virus or food poisoning. It was cool and rainy and several times I found myself lying on the cool concrete next to the flowerbed (my favorite disposal site). Too weak to move and in anticipation of the next wave, I simply enjoyed the rain. For seven hours I had no respite. Tuesday, my major adventure for the day was to walk out to the barn to feed the horses - an event that required considerable recuperation ... and then it was gone.
A lot goes through your mind when you're on your knees in the back yard in the rain. Somehow I think GOD was chuckling, thinking this is really where I need to be all the time ... on my knees asking for mercy. I thought about the many people I know who are presently going through chemotherapy. I thought about how thankful I was that I was not in some third world country such as a tent city in Haiti. I thought about how the sin in our lives slowly builds up until we need to purge it from our life, often in ways that are as discomforting as a flowerbed experience. I was reminded of the weak and helpless of this world and remembered that even in those times when I could not raise my head ... GOD was there ... he always is ... sometimes I forget to acknowledge his presence.

I've been listening to David McQueen's series 'Paranormal' in which he discusses the working of the Holy Spirit. It's been challenging to say the least. Read an article from my friend Jim Clark yesterday in which he reminded me to "be filled with the Spirit". That's twice in a week I've heard that command.
What prompted my writing today was the sad thought of those who have had their joy stolen from their heart. I looked at the endless rows of makeshift tent shelters in Port-au-Prince and wondered how much joy there is in that community, but then a video clip on the news showed children singing "I've got the joy, joy,joy, joy down in my heart!" On the other hand I watch as some I know follow the drudgery of their job day in and day out. They are tired when they rise in the morning. There is no fulfillment in their day or in their relationships with others. They often give little of themselves and therefore receive little from others. In short, their joy has been stolen. Someone slipped in when they were not looking. It's easy to allow ... just not paying attention... and little by little over time ... the joy just leaks out - like the helium in a balloon. Deflated and robbed of that joy they once knew, they float through life with the expectation that 'this is as good as it gets'.
"But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self control ..." somehow I'm thinking this is not a multiple choice option. I think when one is filled with the Spirit you get it all. And if you've been robbed of the joy in your life...the thief probably got the other stuff too!
"Be filled with the Spirit..."

stress fractures

I can barely imagine sliding down an iced over chute at ninty miles an hour, but watching the luge competition at the Olympics makes for great vicarious entertainment...until there is a crash - someone loses control and they are at the mercy of gravity, momentum, and stationary objects. For the most part the luge is a controlled slide ... the athlete in 'complete' control.

I suppose many of our lives are similar. I live most of the time thinking I am in control - at least I seem to be. I visited with a friend recently who made me think about this a little deeper. When one is under treatment for some disease, often the medication that is an attempt to cure the condition or alleviate the symptoms has other manifestations that are an irritation - at least. It is not our busy schedule that causes the stress in our lives; it is not that we are not able to accomplish our goals at a satisfactory pace or with quality results; - it is the the realization that we cannot control the outcome or the order in which it occurs. Often our very thoughts become the webs that entangle and paralyze our lives - deceptive thoughts of our own inadequacy or ineffectiveness. These thoughts are themselves lies, placed there by the one who rules this world.

Often our attempts to paddle out of the muck only muddy the water and splash others in the canoe...when the solution to getting out of our quandary is to remove some of the weight from the canoe and allow it to float out of the muskeg. Oh yes, it is that simple. Lay your burdens down at the feet of Jesus. He will carry your burdens. "For my yoke is easy and my burdens are light." I often forget that if I am yoked to the savior of the world, he is carrying the load - if only I let him. I remember the first hiking trip that Caleb went with me. He was nine, fired up and energetic. Towards the end of the first day I was beginning to think I'd made a mistake in bringing him. He had grown weary under the weight of his pack had it not been for a cute college girl who dropped back and continually encouraged him, he might still be somewhere along Archuleta creek. That night while he was asleep, I removed most of the weight from his pack and carried it myself. The next day was so much better for him (and for me) and I did not tell of this for probably ten years.
Stress fractures our lives in so many ways. It renders us helpless, defeated, depressed, and powerless. If only we'd remember that the king of all creation will carry our burdens, if only we would lay them down ... and walk away. Too often Christians lay there burdens at the foot of the cross, only to pick them back up when they leave. Lay them down ... and walk away.

CHAPS Mtn

We were on our fourth day of an eleven day trek, already well into late morning and in anticipation of the afternoon storms. It loomed in front of us ... obviously the trail did not go around this mountain. From a distance we could see the trail snaking up this geological hurdle in out path and we counted ... twenty seven switchbacks before we peaked and walked over the top on our way to Piedra Pass. There were no choices...there was no grumbling that I can remember...we knew what we had to do...take one step at a time and occasionally pause to look behind to see where we'd come and the progress that we made. But then there was more trail ahead, so we could not linger. The storms were coming.

We did make it, though we agreed that we walked too far that day and resulted in what we have come to call "the Piedra shuffle". As we sat in the comfort of our tents just as the afternoon squall blew in, we looked back at this peak that was unnamed on the map and determined that, at least in our logs, it would be called CHAPS mountain - Cook, Hunt, Allen, Pierson. We simply walked one step at a time and were rewarded with a simple meal and shelter from the storms. That has been twenty years, but the memory is still clear.

I used to journal, or at least I made the effort for a time. My friend - KP - still journals ... I think he tweeted before there was Tweeter. This morning I looked over my last "journal entry" and realized I still have many of the same prayers, many of the same concerns. "I look back over the few notes I've made over the past four years and I am haunted by the fact that some of my prayers and concerns remain the same. I still ask for God to seek and nurture relationships in my kids - who are no longer kids. I struggle with words and direction in new beginnings ... for some reason I still think I'm in charge, when I know that God will direct our path and raise up people for this work. I'm simply planting seed."

Guess I need to be reminded from time to time that I simply need to take one step at a time and occasionally look back to see where I've come. I'll not walk too far today ... GOD will provide my simple needs and I will have shelter from the storms that are coming.

I've got joy in my heart!

Her mother asked me to talk with her Sunday..."she's only eleven, she doesn't understand...will you help her? Maria was only 42. She wasn't seriously hurt in the accident on Wednesday, so they let her go home. Why did she die two days later? Why are two little girls left without their mother? Why did her husband lose his job the day before?" I had no true words of relief or encouragement for Lillie. I just told her that I did not understand either...that we simply have to trust that GOD has a plan for good...even in the midst of this darkness. Why was Jenny Bazaillion buried this afternoon after only 32 years in this world? Why does GOD allow such heinous atrocities to occur? No, Lillie, I just don't understand. I am comforted only by the belief that Maria and Jenny are together and that they are better off than any of the rest of us. I watched the grief and the comfort and the joy in Joanne Rochette as she skated to a bronze medal tonight after her mother died Sunday.
Yes, there is joy in the midst of struggle.
Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.
Cheap grace doesn't buy much joy.
I am blessed. Yes, I am full of joy.
Welcome to this world Zachary Stone Campbell.