And the Angel said ...

“When EF Hutton talks, people listen.”

Remember that old commercial?  If you want to express what it means for a person to have authority, the most direct and effective way is to say “People listen.”

And so, if an Angel showed up at your house today, and said he was sent from God to tell you something, you would listen.  Right?

And yet, even in the presence of an Angel of God, people have a choice – to believe or not to believe.

The Christmas back story about Zechariah and Mary and their separate encounters with the angel Gabriel is very revealing.  Same angel.  Same power. Same fearsome presence.  One believed what he said; one did not.

Both of these people were told about a baby that was going to be born.  Both of them were standing in humanly impossible situations for that to happen.  Both of them were told that God had favored and listened to them; both were told the name of the baby and his future destiny.  Two parents.  Two incredibly powerful destinies predicted for their children.  Two very different responses.

Now, if you don’t believe that angels exist, you will have discounted this story, but to do so you will have to call a lot of people liars.  Mary is a liar.  Zechariah is a liar. All the worshipers in the temple courtyard at the time Zechariah came out and could no longer speak – are liars.  Elizabeth is a liar.  All their neighbors who knew her to be old and childless are liars.  And Luke the doctor, who researched and interviewed witnesses and wrote it all down, he’s a liar, too.

But NEVERTHELESS, everything that the Angel Gabriel said came true!

Today, Christmas Eve, I just read again the powerful words of this Archangel who stands in the presence of God, and I am gripped with awe just as both Mary and Zechariah were so long ago.  Will you listen with me?

An angel of the Lord appeared to him, standing at the right side of the altar of incense.  When Zechariah saw him, he was startled and was gripped with fear.  But the angel said to him: "Do not be afraid, Zechariah your prayer has been heard.  Your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you are to call him John.  He will be a joy and delight to you, and many will rejoice because of his birth, for he will be great in the sight of the Lord.  He is never to take wine or other fermented drink, and he will be filled with the Holy Spirit even from his mother's womb.  He will bring back many of the people of Israel to the Lord their God.  And he will go on before the Lord, in the spirit and power of Elijah, to turn the hearts of the parents to their children and the disobedient to the wisdom of the righteous--to make ready a people prepared for the Lord." Zechariah asked the angel, "How can I be sure of this?  I am an old man and my wife is well along in years. The angel said to him, “I am Gabriel. I stand in the presence of God, and I have been sent to speak to you and to tell you this good news.  And now you will be silent and not able to speak until the day this happens, because you did not believe my words, which will come true at their appointed time.”The angel said to him, “I am Gabriel. I stand in the presence of God, and I have been sent to speak to you and to tell you this good news.  And now you will be silent and not able to speak until the day this happens, because you did not believe my words, which will come true at their appointed time.”

The No Name Storm

Anyone who has lived in Florida very long has heard of the No Name Storm.  Strange name for a storm, right? 

This is my journal of that night, written after the fact.  Obviously, I survived.*

March, 1993. 

2 a.m.

            “Get up!” yells my dad to his sleeping household – his twelve-year-old granddaughter, her friend, his 75 year old wife, and myself.  My waking brain hears ominous sounds of water lapping and of wind against the window panes.  This is not good.  We live on the Gulf side of western Florida, and right alongside a canal jutting from the bay, but we never hear water lapping.

            As we stumble out of bed and realize we are sloshing through two inches of water in the living room, our situation begins to dawn on us.  Always survivor-ready, Dad has already gone out to the garage to shut off the electricity.  We don’t have power anyway, but he had realized before any of us that if the water kept rising, we might be electrocuted.

3 a.m.

            The water keeps rising and we are trapped inside the house.  It is pitch dark, but Dad found the flashlights and handed one to each of us.  It is eerie shining lights around the inside of our home with reflections off the rising waters dancing on the walls and ceiling.  Unreal.  Could a horror film be any scarier than this?  The water is up to our knees, which, of course, means it is nearly waist-high on my daughter.

4 a.m.

            Quick-thinking Dad has gone for the life-jackets stored in the garage.  Suddenly I hear him cursing under his breath and I go to investigate.  The back door which links to the garage has now been jammed shut by a floating refrigerator.  He shoulders it open with quite a bit of difficulty – he is strong but he’s also76 years old.  I see him squeeze through the opening and out into the completely dark garage.  In a few minutes he comes back with life vests for each of us, which we gratefully and quickly put on.

5 a.m.

            The wind is howling now.  It must be a hurricane or tornado or something.  Last night when we went to bed, there was nothing about this on the news.  Weird.  We’ve been through so many hurricane scares before, living here on the Gulf, but this is March, for pete’s sake!  And we always have some kind of warning so we can decide whether to put all our stuff on a high shelf, or whether to evacuate.  This time – nothing.  But the water has risen even higher and now the waves are pounding against the four glass doors which connect the house to what Dad calls the Florida Room—a screened-in porch.  Oh my gosh!  The storm is so loud it sounds like it’s ripping the house apart.  Oh no!  There goes the Florida Room!

6 a.m.

I’m really scared.  I try to be brave for my daughter and her friend, but it’s hard to think straight with all this water and eerie darkness and noise.  Dad is standing by the kitchen sink, almost waist-deep in the water, and he’s peeling and eating grapefruit!  My step-mom, Anne, and I are perched up on the kitchen counter which is just above the water level.  “You better eat something, too,” Dad says rather nonchalantly.  But then he adds, a bit more ominously, “You might need your strength for later.”

7 a.m.

            The water has continued to rise, the Florida Room is gone, the wind howls, everything is floating around in the water, and it is still dark outside.  Fortunately, my daughter has found something to entertain her.  She and her friend are sitting in Dad and Anne’s two big recliners – and the chairs are floating!  They think this is pretty funny.  I’m glad she is occupied and not thinking the worst, because my mind has turned toward fears of drowning in here.  No one knows we’re in here or how desperate our situation is, and I keep looking up at that ceiling.  Normally a ceiling is not scary, but with the room full of rising water, it feels like the lid on a box of death.

            I’m thinking of taking my daughter and going outside onto the roof.  At least there we will not be trapped.  My Dad, speaking in a way I have never heard before, tells me not to do it.  I’m 33 years old and responsible for the life of my child – I have to do what seems best for her survival.  I persist in saying I’m going out.  Dad looks at me straight in the eye and says, “If you try to take that child out of the house, I will knock you out.”  I know he means it.

9 a.m.

            The water has finally stopped rising.  Dad said that it would stop as soon as it was high tide.  He has lived here in Florida for decades and he knows the tide chart and the ways of the ocean.  His knowledge and calm thinking in a crisis did him well in this unpredictable storm surge.  Why weren’t we warned?  Well, we are all a little bit calmer and more confident now that it is daylight and things are not getting any worse.  Good thing I didn’t go outside – I would have been blown right off of the roof.

            Looking out the living room windows, which face away from the Gulf and toward the neighborhood, we encounter a freaky sight.  No streets, no mailboxes, no cars -- and houses that are sticking out of the sea.  Nothing moves.  We don’t know how we will get out.  Dad says if he can find the row boat or pontoon – if they haven’t floated away – he could take a couple of us at a time and paddle us down the “street” until he reaches dry land again.  But our boats aren’t there.

12 noon

            Rescue at last!  A man in a motorboat has found us.  He helped us into the boat and whisked us down the river-street all the way back out to Highway 19.  On the other side of the highway is dry land.  We climb out of his boat, gratefully give him hugs and high-fives, and head across the highway on foot to the nearest store.  Things are not much better on the “dry” side of the highway.  There is no power.  There are no cars.  So we don’t know where we will stay, or how we would even get there.  And thousands of others have the same problem.

            Dad "pulls a rabbit out of the hat," when he walks to the nearest motel and talks another family into letting us double up in a room with them for a few hours.  Then he works his magic again and walks around until he finds someone willing to lend him a tiny, ramshackle vehicle that we all five pile into.  Now that we have wheels, we can make progress.  Dad also knows someone with an RV that will sleep four, which he agrees to rent us for as long as we need it.  We have no idea, on that day, that we will need it for a very long time.

            Finally we drive my daughter’s friend back to her mother’s house.  Her mother must be worried to death about her by now.  But we find her mother, without a care, sitting in a clean, dry living room and watching TV.

            “What storm,” she says, as we all stand agape.

*(This story is based on something that happened in my family, but the "I" in the story is not Lorraine.)

Hurricanes and Healing

I once read that a family crisis can be like a hurricane. Sometimes the winds blow and the rain beats down and then it all blows over. But sometimes the wind and rain ravage everything and leave only a path of destruction behind. We've seen some pictures of that kind of destruction this week in Texas.

Recovery from this hurricane damage, we are told, is going to be a marathon not a sprint. It's the same with recovery from family crisis. The main difference is that the scars are invisible -- on the inside of each family member's heart.

And just as with a hurricane, after a family has suffered through domestic violence, death, or divorce there are the desperate immediate needs, but then months and years later there is still need for healing.

If you have gone through a crisis that split your family, be gentle with yourself, and remember the self-care that will be needed emotionally and spiritually in times to come. It's a marathon, but you can do this!

And if you have friends who have experienced family devastation, like a hurricane, check in with them from time to time to see how their healing process is going. <3 span="">

Make God Look Good!

Christian, have you ever wondered what you can do to see that God gets credit more often?  What can you and I actually do in order to glorify God?  I asked this question recently after an unusual dream. Here are some ideas.

• Don’t be afraid to tell people about your good works.  Jesus said, “Let your light shine,” which means don’t do good things and then keep them hidden out of false humility.  But the purpose is not about boasting.  No, we have to tell the story in such a way that God gets the credit.  That means we have to “connect the dots” for them as we tell it.  

We have to tell a story that shows both our need and God’s supply.  For instance, I have started volunteer work at a hospital by making crocheted baby blankets for new moms.  If that is all I tell people, it sounds like I am boasting – I must do this because I am such a good person!  But the reality is, I took up crochet at a time when my life had hit rock bottom and I couldn’t work.  It gave me an outlet so that I felt less useless.  Then God answered the prayers of many people and healed me.  Now I can become a “Blankets of Love” hospital volunteer. 

• Don’t be afraid to share your own weaknesses in the process of telling the story.  Sometimes Christians think that in order to glorify God they have to appear strong.  In fact, the opposite is true.  As in my example of the crochet ministry, if we let people see our area of need and how God provided for us anyway, we give them hope that he might do the same for them.

• Finally, don’t be afraid to pray specifically and then tell the story of what happened later in that situation.  Many people pray very general  prayers, thinking that this gives God sovereign leeway to do “whatever” is his will in the situation.  But that is not the way Jesus taught prayer.  It’s true that he did teach us to pray “your kingdom come, your will be done,” but he also prayed that a fig tree would wither up, that a deaf person’s ears would hear, that a blind person’s eyes would see, that a lame person would get up and walk, etc.   

How does specific prayer give God the glory?  People tend to take notice when a “coincidence” occurs. 

For example, if you ask God to heal someone quickly after surgery and then the doctor tells them they have healed very quickly, is that a coincidence?  Perhaps.  People will draw their own conclusions about it, but the closer the similarity between the request and the result, the more credit goes to God and not to coincidence. 

And if you pray for what is humanly impossible, for instance that the person heal without the need for the surgery, and the doctor later tells them, “I have no idea what happened – the tumor was there on the first Xray but now it is gone” – then everyone will experience a mystery.  

Human beings love a mystery.  Something in our nature seeks for an answer to it.  And the answer to the mystery is God.

Live life to glorify God.

The Best Way to Live

I had an unusual dream.  Actually, it was like a conversation. 

 Me:     “What is the best way to live?

Answer:           “Live to glorify God.”  These words glowed like a bright cloud.  

Me:      “I don’t know how to actually do that.”  

Answer:           “Whoever offers praise glorifies me.”  “Let your light so shine before men that they see your good works and glorify your Father in heaven.”

Me:    “What causes people to give God the glory or credit?”

Answer:           When a circumstance is unusual or unlikely, when something is serendipitous or coincidental, or if something happens that is technically impossible.

So then I woke up.  And here was my first waking thought:

"Unusual, unlikely, serendipitous, coincidental or impossible events make people think about God."

And now I have a question for you:

“Who was answering my questions?”

FULL of Grace AND Truth?!

“We have seen his glory, the glory of the One and Only, who came from the Father,

 full of 

grace and truth.”

“For the law was given through Moses; 

grace and truth 

came through Jesus Christ.”

--Jn. 1:14, 17

            What an anomaly it is to see someone who has both grace AND truth!

Some people camp out on truth.  Their standards are high. They expect a lot of themselves and others.  They reach for the stars.  But they tend to be judgmental.

            Some people camp out on grace.  They are compassionate and forgiving.  They set the bar low so that the hurting, the broken, and the weak can benefit.  But they tend to have bad boundaries, and they may ignore fact and rely on feelings.

            Jesus alone was full of both grace and truth.  He could rigidly say that “not one jot or tittle will pass from the Law without being fulfilled,” but then also forgive and release the woman caught in adultery.  He could receive and bless every little child, but call the Pharisees “You brood of vipers!” and “Hypocrites!”

            When you see someone full of both grace and truth, they have received it from Jesus, who received it from the Father. 

            You and I can be those people today – who receive “blessing after blessing” from Jesus, as John says.  May it be said of each of us – “They are full of grace and truth.”

GOD SLOWS ME DOWN

God slows me down

To listen to birds.

To watch them hop and peck

And drill and perch and soar.

To hear them twit and

Chirrup and cheet.

No plan.  Just enjoyment.

God stops my good-deeding

To rest on the porch

And hear the lovely practice notes

Of the girl in the orange shirt

Waiting for her violin lesson;

Sweet tones, unexpected delight,

Mingling with bird songs.

Red-headed woodpecker and

Stout-billed cardinal and

Blue-winged jay bird and

Soft tan mourning dove.

They were outside my closed window

All along.

Why do I strive to seek, to find,

And not to yield,

But He stops me?

My inner pulse beats

. do . not . go . gentle .

But He whispers

   ~~Rest~~

With an inward heart Ulysses

But an outer shell Telemachus,

I have no choice.

He is stronger than I.

Rest til I receive

Or wrestle til I faint.

His purposes are high,

I cannot contain them –

Violins and bird songs.

“All the earth bows down to You,

They sing praise to You,

They sing praise to your Name.”

--Psalm 66:4

-ldm 5/7/17

Job’s Lament or The Good Old Days!

I have never allowed myself to indulge in “I wish I were back there” thinking. I don’t even say those things out loud.  Perhaps I am afraid of the grief or depression that might come on me if I did.  Or maybe I don’t want to depress other people!   At any rate, I discovered today that Job did it.  In Chapter 29 I read:

“How I long for the months gone by,

  For the days when God watched over me,

When his lamp shone on my head

  And by his light I walked through darkness!

Oh, for the days when I was in my prime,

  When God’s intimate friendship blessed my house,

When the Almighty was still with me

  And my children were around me,”

So I will say this once  I wish for the days when my house was full and my schedule was full and I could scarcely get a moment to myself.  When I went to church often and participated in whatever groups I wanted to and sometimes led them.

I guess I thought that my life would just go on like that, getting better and better.  Job did too.  He said:

“I thought, ‘I will die in my own house,
    my days as numerous as the grains of sand.
My roots will reach to the water,
    and the dew will lie all night on my branches.
My glory will not fade;
    the bow will be ever new in my hand.’

But disaster struck.  I was betrayed on a gargantuan scale.  I suffered in ways I had never imagined before.  I was brought to my lowest.  Brought to where I could no longer care for myself--physically, emotionally and financially,  If not for God, I would have had no hope.  Like Job, I lost everything – or almost.

Was I struck down because of my own sin?  No. Unless being deceived is a sin, and I don’t see that in the Ten Commandments -- “Thou shalt not be deceived!”  That’s like saying it is your sin when someone else sins against you.  Ridiculous.

Yet I was left alone – accused and abandoned.  So, like Job, all those questions about “why” and “what now” apply.  But I have the benefit of reading Job’s book, so I know how his life turned out.  And I also have the cross and the Resurrection.  So even without seeing restoration and restitution on this earth, I would have real hope for an eternal future.  

But all that does not erase the losses, does it?  It’s OK to count them once in a while

So, would I REALLY want to go back?  Sort of yes and sort of no.  ‘Yes’ because I loved being a mom and caring for my children. I loved being married and going on dates.  I loved teaching English and leading Bible studies.  But ‘No’ because I don’t have the strength to do all those things now! And also because I’m aware that there was a lot of bad going on as well as the good.  I definitely don’t want to relive the bad parts!  And you can’t pick and choose the parts of life you want to keep.

So, even though I miss some parts of “the good old days,” and even though I hope from the bottom of my heart that some of those longings will be fulfilled again, I don’t really want to go back there.  It was not perfect, just as my life now is not perfect.  All in all I’m happy and I have a lot to be thankful for.

REALLY.

(How about you?  Can you do without "the good old days"?)

BIRTHDAY PRESENTS

At 5 birthdays are cake and ice cream … and PRESENTS!

At 16, 18, and 21 birthdays are a legal right of passage … and BIG PRESENTS!

At 30 birthdays remind you that youth is fleeting … and no one can afford your presents!

At 40 birthdays tell you to “Seize the Day!” … and money couldn’t buy your presents.

At 50 life is good, but for the “Sandwich Generation” a day without parents or teens would be a present.

At 60 the stairs seem steeper and you’re out of breath, but your grandkids make you great presents.

And at 62 … acceptance has made you content … at least for the present.

Ldm 1/21/2017