I have often wondered why God allows death to come early to some people.  

Keith Green (28 years). 

Rich Mullins (41 years). 

Kara Tippetts (39 years). 

My brother Bobby (12 years).

I see so many years of unrealized potential, so much lost capacity for Kingdom work. 

God sees something different.

I have questions. God has answers.

The first of the 107 questions in the Westminster Shorter Catechism challenges us to focus on the chief end of man…to glorify God.  

Whereas I might say that a life cut short is gone too soon and therefore unable to glorify God fully, God doesn’t say the words “cut short” or “gone too soon.”.

I think in my humanity I would then use that flawed thought process (gone too soon) as leverage, a sort of measuring stick while bargaining with God for more time. 

I ask the question about the timing of death, but God doesn’t because He doesn’t measure our lives by the number of years.  He uses a different measuring stick.

Do you remember the last five words of the answer to that catechism question?  

“The chief end of man is to glorify God and to enjoy Him forever.”

And so in death, early or late, that is what happens. Enjoyment forever! 

The measuring stick is eternity!

“I IN my Savior am happy and blest”. Gotta notice those prepositions.

happily ever after, beth

Well, there you have it.  Bifocals.  I didn’t go kicking and screaming into this AARP club.  I went blindly.  Blurrily. Unfocused.

After wearing reading glasses for over 10 years, I broke down and thanked Ben Franklin for another of his inventions.

Maybe it was while sitting in church and putting on readers to see scripture, taking them off and putting on distance lens to see Preacher-man not 10 feet from my seat in the front pew.  Or maybe it was my dear friend who is also my ophthalmologist when he said that I was just barely legal to drive without glasses.

Whatever the reason, here they sit on my nose from morning to night.  Thank God for noses and ears!!

happily ever after, beth

So, because we know He will answer, how about we call them what they actually are…. “prayer PREquests.”  I mean it’s what we believe, right?

happily ever after, beth

I write these posts while sitting at the beach watching the waves crash endlessly onto the sand. There’s a beauty in the repetition. It is a special comfort to know that the waves can be counted on.  Tomorrow when I come back here the same water performance is repeated.

Today the waves are choppy and a friend reminded me that life is choppy.

I think of the surfer who intentionally goes out into those waves to enjoy the movement.  She counts on the pulsing of the ocean for her recreation. The water lifts the surfer and that adventure is so very worth duplicating.

But those same waves that lift up can also push down.

If those waves were repeatedly washing over me and pushing me down, I would not be as comforted by the constant rhythm.  Struggling for breath, I would be gasping, hoping, praying for a break from that repetition to get myself out of that drowning situation.

Same waves. Different outcome.

Seems like a metaphor on life and I feel like I’ve been here before in my thoughts.  Having a godly perspective on life’s events can produce a delight in the adventure.  But today as I look out on the water all I see is choppy. Maybe a picture of how life feels sometimes.  Choppy.

So I force myself to see the sun that shines on that water.  The waves are constant and beautiful. And on another day when the water is choppy and the sun is not shining I will discipline myself to see the birds enjoying the wind. The fish enjoying the water.  The surfer enjoying the waves.

Waves and life.  Constant. Fun. Scary. Beautiful.

happily ever after, beth

Gifts are my love language and they speak deeply to my soul.  I don’t have any need for trinkets or quickly purchased gifts that satisfy the buyer on my birthday or Christmas.  What really touches me are the ones that make me believe that person thought of me apart from the obligatory “time of year.” Money is not the point here. Amount of money does not equal amount of thought. Or love.

That said, I love giving the gift of written scripture. No gift I give or card I write speaks love more than His Words written for our benefit.

“Such things were written in the Scriptures long ago to teach us. And the Scriptures give us hope and encouragement as we wait patiently for God’s promises to be fulfilled.” Romans 15:4

Yup.  That.

happily ever after, beth

Maybe I should have been just a wee bit more skeptical. I asked her if everything on it worked and she said, “Absolutely.”

Catch phrases like “Buyer Beware” are created in response to events similar to what I just lived through.

**heavy sigh**

Happily ever after, beth

Anyone else have trouble pulling the plastic grocery bags off their little stand at the checkout without the whole contraption coming forward and threatening to crash to the floor? I’m already holding my purse, other bags, receipts, keys, etc.  So I try to use my knee to hold the stand but my acrobatics only amuse the people around me.  I am not amused.

And then I remember the reusable bags still in my car. Amazingly I don’t seem to have a hard time getting those bags emptied and returned to the back seat.  But after I park at the grocery store I rarely remember reach into the back seat and bring them with me into the store.  What good is a reusable that I have rendered unusable by leaving it in the car and empty?

Is It Just Me?

In the clinic of my life I sometimes feel like I am in God’s waiting room painfully watching the days of my life tick by like anesthetic minutes on that clock. How long am I expected to linger here?

Remembering that Someone is accomplishing His will behind those closed doors provides a sweetness to those hours of delay. I may be waiting but God is working.

I will thank Him in this waiting room. Even when the answers remain behind closed doors.

Happily ever after, beth

Ok.  A while ago I was standing in line at the airport. I’m not kidding when I say the lady behind me was all in my personal space.

All in.  MY.  Space.

I had to resort to rolling my suitcase WAY behind me to keep her from stepping on the heels of my shoes. As the line would move forward, I would step ahead, careful to not crowd the person in front of me.  But the sweetie behind me wasn’t filtering her surroundings through my grid.

Back off lady!! It’s a big airport and you’re managing to make me claustrophobic!!

Is It Just Me? (yeah, this one’s probably just me)

(“Is It Just Me”  is a semi-reoccurring thought in my mind.  There are moments in my life that are so ridiculous I often stop and wonder if it is just me or if other people also blink twice and look around for their “crazy twin” who might be feeling the same feels. So, because it happens with some frequency, I’m writing about it and “Is It Just Me?” is shortened to become IIJM?)

The question hubby asks at the end of each work day is, “Do you want to walk or ride bikes?”   “Ummm,” I answer.

Here is my dilemma.

I have developed a deep appreciation for bike riding.  Living in a city with no “hills” makes for a pleasant ride.  But our conversation is not as complete when we ride.  Biking on our “beach cruisers” together is fun and provides exercise.  But communicating is difficult unless we are side by side and riding slow.

I love walking because we talk well and deep when we traipse along the golf course paths. It is easy to be side by side while walking. And it’s easy to talk while side by side.

And there you have it.  Christ’s invitation to walk with Him. An invitation to communication.

Someone said to me, “That’s a win/win situation.”  I didn’t say it out loud and I hated to burst their happy moment, but I disagreed with their opinion.

I actually thought it was more of a “win-ish/win-ish” situation.

So there’s that.

Is It Just Me?

1/2 full is WAY better than 1/2 empty.

Or is it?

Maybe 1/2 empty means that I have been pouring out into other lives and I just need my God to replenish my reserves!!  Good problem to have.

It’s all about how you look at it.

Happily ever after, beth

One of the songs that we sing at church is an invitation for the Holy Spirit to “come flood the atmosphere.”

The building is beautiful. The song employs swelling emotion.  Our voices are harmonious. Surely God will come.

But somewhere in the world is a dirty prison cell holding a believer who is crying.  Whispering His name. Begging Him to be present. Surely God will come.

God inhabits all His people. Each call to His heart moves Him. Each call. Not just the perfectly orchestrated ones. He is present.

Happily ever after, beth

Sometimes my knight in shining armour doesn’t ride in on his horse…he walks in carrying “Gorilla Glue.”

Is It Just Me?

(“Is It Just Me”  is a semi-recurring thought in my mind.  There are moments in my life that are so ridiculous I often stop and wonder if it is just me or if other people also blink twice and look around for their “crazy twin” who might be feeling the same feels. So, because it happens with some frequency, I’m writing about it and “Is It Just Me?” is shortened to become IIJM?)

There are times I am tempted to explain away the circumstances in my life. I guess it’s the thought that maybe life is just a series of events and coincidences.  Sometimes I act like I believe that. But do I?  Is it too hard for me to believe that God works in the tiniest of details of my life?

Maybe I’ve tried to label this as one of two extremes.  Either my God is too big and therefore doesn’t care about my minutiae, or He is too small and getting personally involved in my life and billions of other lives is something He cannot do.

Either option scares me.  And it should.  Because it is not that.

I think I have tried to “size” God.

But what if there is no human way to assign both the bigness and smallness of who He is.  Could it be that He is smaller than I can imagine and bigger than dreamable?

Our God exists in perfect juxtaposition to Himself. His mercy drips into the particulars of my life and yet keeps this galaxy moving precisely.  His justice allows natural consequences even for tiny babies and yet controls global wars.  His humbleness keeps Him from pushing His way into any life and yet brought Him to earth to willingly enter lives.

Who am I to select the perfectly sized box?

Boxes have edges. My God does not.

Happily ever after, beth

“Is It Just Me”  is a semi-reoccurring thought in my mind.  There are moments in my life that are so ridiculous I often stop and wonder if it is just me or if other people also blink twice and look around for their “crazy twin” who might be feeling the same feels. So, because it happens with some frequency, I’m writing about it and “Is It Just Me?” is shortened to become IIJM?

Murphy’s Law.  Sounds legit right? I’m such a law abiding citizen. I don’t even know who Murphy is, but he (or she) wrote some law that I seem to live by without acquiescing.

You see, when I want to plug something in, the prongs are ALWAYS turned the wrong way.  The wide poker thing and the narrow poker thing are ALWAYS on the wrong side. So when I try to push it into the outlet it is turned wrong.  Every. Single. Time.

Blender. Iron. Computer. Power cords.  No matter.  Wrong direction.  So sometimes I plan on it being wrong and turn the cord before I put it into the outlet.  NOPE!  It would have been right that time. AAUGH!

Is It Just Me?

I wish there was a better me that showed up every day to be me.  I don’t think about this often, but being disappointed in myself is something that occasionally keeps me awake at night.  Tonight is the night.

I went to bed tired and sleep usually comes quickly.  But tonight I  promptly woke up before I fell asleep.  I lay down tired and turned over wide awake.

I was wishing that I had behaved differently during the day.  I thought of Jesus.

I think WWJD creates guilt for my personality type. What WOULD Jesus do?  I second guess a lot of what I do.  I really want to “do what Jesus does” but I really often don’t.

A good example is this blog.  I don’t think He would have had a blog.

WWJBlog.  Just doesn’t have the same impact does it?

Obviously Jesus didn’t live during a time when electronics were the way to communicate.  But I don’t think He would have used them anyway. He was so busy getting involved with people that He did not use even the most basic technology. The written word.

He did not write! Not one word.

Unless you count the time He wrote in the sand, but what He scribbled on the ground didn’t last very long. Sand is so temporary.

Paul wrote letters to people but Christ did not.  Men wrote about Him; He didn’t write about Himself.

His greatest impact was coming in close physical contact with the people around Him.  He didn’t sit under an olive tree and write so that His words could be preserved. He wrote Himself on people’s hearts. He lived His message and changed lives through the 5 senses that He created. While He was here, people saw Him. Touched Him. Smelled Him. Heard Him and tasted food He gave them.  They didn’t read about Him.  He entered their lives.

There are many good benefits of reading a blog, a text, an email and then acting on it.  But what a blessing to sit next to someone, share a bite to eat, look them in the eye and be changed in that moment.

Let’s not isolate ourselves and feel guilty about all the good things we read but don’t do.

“Let us think of ways to motivate one another to acts of love and good works. And let us not neglect our meeting together, as some people do, but encourage one another, especially now that the day of His return is drawing near.” (Hebrews 10:24.25)

Happily ever after, beth

Well, I don’t think I really have a choice.

He says I do.  Have a choice that is.

But the choice is like the old saying, “Do you want peas or carrots?”  We ask our kids about their vegetables making them think they can choose.

HA. It’s STILL veggies, kiddos!!

So every day Preacher-man walks in the door and asks, “Bike ride or walk?”

Sheesh.

How about wheels on the couch and a ride down the street in comfy style?  Can that be one of my choices???

Happily ever after, beth