Friday Night

I went to the Relay for Life in Auburn, MA last night.
It was a Friday night after our second week back in school. Usually that's a curl-up-on-the-couch-and-fall-asleep-on-a-good-book kind of evening. But my mom, dad, and I hopped in my best friend's car and headed out to the track.
We got there just at six and my dad and I headed over to the survivors' tent to register as the ceremony started on stage. We were given purple shirts and paddles - mine bore a large 7. Seven years since diagnosis. My dad's said 13.
Then the speaker called for us to line up. Survivors just diagnosed were asked to stand in the front row. Then those in the two to five year bracket. Then the six to ten years. Then eleven to twenty, and so on.
Five rows of purple shirted strangers stood shoulder to shoulder facing the speaker on the stage.
Then she asked the first row to turn around and look at the survivors behind them. "They are your hope," she told them. Then the second row turned. "They are your hope." Then the third. When the last row turned, there were no survivors to look at. My quick-yet-cynical wit whispered, 'They have no hope.' But the speaker on stage was struggling not to cry as she said, "We - all of us who are here today - we are your hope."

Then we survivors walked over to the track and walked the first lap together.
I have mixed feelings about this survivors' lap. It feels a bit awkward to be a center of attention. But the applause is encouraging and inspiring. It feels safe to be surrounded by strangers wearing the same purple shirt - I'm not really alone. And I liked walking beside my dad this year.

After the survivor lap, we went over to the big tent and ate a delicious dinner -
my Mom and friend joined us. Then we strolled around the track, looking at the booths and picking up a few goodies.
After a mile, my aching feet reminded me that it was the end of a long work week. So my dad and I found a bench to sit and wait while my mom and friend walked a few more laps to hit their step goals for the day.
As we sat there in the dark, with the loud music playing and bright lights and colorful glow sticks flashing all around, I began looking at the people walking by. A tall man walked slowly by, with twin boys toddling around his feet. A group of teenage girls in red shorts, giggled and squealed as they jogged past. An old lady pushing another old lady in a wheel chair, a lady in a motorized wheel chair, a ponytailed man with a little girl holding each hand...
There was no pattern. No visible common thread.
Just a whole bunch of people who'd been touched by cancer and had decided to do something about it. A slew of strangers working - walking - together.
As we headed home, I basked in the peace of that thought. No matter how far out from my diagnosis day I get, no matter what happens tomorrow, I am not alone.

The Right Place

It's been a great road trip - but I'm slowing down. Today I'll spend some time by the pool, and do a load of laundry. Have a late lunch at Denny's, then head toward Houston. Tomorrow I'll reconnect with a dear friend and spend a couple of days laughing and eating chocolate. Then Ry will point himself toward home and chug his fastest, dodging grasshoppers and raindrops all the way.

Did you know that it's only 25 and a half hours from Houston to Charlton? Add in a few naps, bathroom breaks, and gas fill ups and I should be home by Thursday.

I've tremendously enjoyed this trip.
I've tremendously enjoyed this summer - a month ago I was riding a mototaxi in Korogo, Cote D'Ivoire! Not quite as comfy as my RAV, but many less grasshoppers.

A month from now I'll be back in my classroom with my new crew of little ones to love and guide. Last year was a very difficult year - the kind of year that leaves you reconsidering your goals in life. This summer has been a chance to do that. A chance to realize and reaffirm that, yes, I am in the right place. At least for right now. And that's all we really need to know, right? That we're in the right place right now.

Enjoy your today!

Day Seven

Due to technical difficulties, this morning's post is going up now. I did end up riding my bike at Arches. :-)

I love sitting on a KOA porch swing. I'm here, slowly swinging, before most of the campers have woken up. There are a couple of bleary eyed people meandering to the bathroom, but everything else has the feeling of a ghost town.

Today is day seven. But it's not a day of rest. Today I'll be riding my bicycle through Arches National Park.

Day five was spent meandering my way to Boulder where I reconnected with my cousin and his wife. The morning of day six was spent hiking on a mountain, and then curling up in a comfy chair and working on my book. Then we went out to eat, and they sent me off with a cooler full of fried chicken and potato salad.

From there I drove through the Rockies. In a thunderstorm. With a minimum speed limit of 55.
 Ok, ok, no one was actually driving that fast in the storm and I never actually heard any thunder - just lots of heavy rain and lightning. The tunnels under the mountains made for some peaceful driving. It was a bit of white knuckle driving -- but when you come through the storm you're left with the feeling 'if I can do that, I can do anything.'

I got to my KOA just before eight. Enjoyed some fried chicken, did a little writing, then went to bed. I'm getting very close to halfway through my road trip budget. Time to start planning the trip home. Through Houston.

After I ride my bike in Arches.

Good morning from, hold on, I'm in... Oh yeah, Nebraska

Day four
Am I really already on day five???

Day three was a long day of driving. I woke up in Pennsylvania, then I spread out my blanket in the sun and had a picnic lunch somewhere in Ohio. At a mid afternoon bathroom break I picked up a Starbuck's refresher. I've never tried an energy drink, and I don't drink coffee, so I was left refreshed enough to drive right through Indiana and into Illinois. I also slipped into another time zone and gained an hour of driving time. 682 miles. Not my longest, but a good day.

Day four was more relaxed. I got an earlier start and squeezed in more sightseeing. Only about 530 miles that day. I saw eight windmill turbines being driven down the highway. I popped into "American Picker"'s Antique Archeology. I saw the world's largest truck stop - with 900 trucker spots. I saw an 11 foot Easter Island type Maui head, walked through a garden that trumps Tower Hill, took some pictures of Freedom Rock, and stood underneath a VW bug that had been transformed into a huge spider. Really. I'll show you a picture.

The best part, though, was walking along the longest pedestrian bridge linking two states and taking a picture while standing in both. Not quite Four Corners, but on a bridge, in two states, taking a picture - as the sun was thinking about setting. This is why I road trip.

Well, that, and all of the alone time to chat with Abba. And the friends and family I greet along the way. Today I'm hoping to bump into a cousin in Boulder. Then I'll turn my car in a more southerly direction and head on down to Houston.

Thanks for all the comments on my pics - it kind of feels like you're along for the ride with me. :-)

A Side Story

I ripped the strap on one of the dresses that I brought for my trip. Hopefully I can pick up a cheap sewing kit along the way. I didn't bring one because, well, I don't sew.

Yesterday I explored a bit of Pennsylvania. I even stopped to see a house built in the shape of a shoe -- 'the only one like it in the world'! At four o'clock, I began looking at my aps to find a stopping place for the night. I called three KOAs, all in the right direction and within a three hour drive, but none had available kabins.

I looked at the clock - it was 4:30. 'OK, God. I'm putting this one in your hands. I'd like to eat at five, then we'll figure out lodging.' So I pulled back out onto the highway and headed west.

At about 4:55, I passed a billboard advertising Denny's at a Flying J Truck stop and my heart grinned. That had been my favorite restaurant on my very first solo road trip. I must have eaten there at least four days in a row. I plugged it into my gps and took the next exit. It wasn't right off the highway, so I had a couple of turns to make, and along the way I passed an Econo Lodge. Hmmmm.... Tonight's stopping place?

I ate dinner (bourbon chicken with broccoli and a side of Mac and cheese, I ordered grapefruit juice but she brought me cranberry), then returned to the Econo Lodge.
'How much for a room?'
'Well, we've got a promotion going on...'

For only ten dollars more than my kamping kabin, I got ac, cable, my own bathroom, and a complimentary breakfast. But wait, there's more. The best part was when the manager handed me a complementary sewing kit.

Well played, Abba. I'm glad I'm on Your team.

On the road. Again.

On the road again.
Yes, I had to type that. :-). I'm sitting on the porch swing of kabin 4 at the Unadilla KOA. My sleeping bag is rolled, my car is packed, and I'm ready to take off for day two. As soon as I figure out which direction to turn from the driveway.
Day one is always the simplest - I just get into my car and drive until I can't go any further. I got a late start yesterday so I really didn't make it too far.

But yesterday was still a Big Day.

A friend from the C.S. Lewis society pointed me in the direction of the Booklovers' Gourmet - a beautiful little coffee and book shop in Webster. Mom and I drove out there yesterday and the owner agreed to sell my book on consignment. My little book is now on an actual store bookshelf. Stop by and get a picture of it for me (if you do, post it to In His Hands on Facebook -- hey, while you're at it, post a picture of yourself reading my book, too!).

Save the date -- on Saturday, October 18th I'll be doing a book reading/signing at the Booklovers' Gourmet. Be sure to come. I'm hoping to have my second book (All Is Well: Poems From the Detour) available by then. That's one of my tasks for this road trip - I'm planning to retype and format two poems a night. I did meet quota last night.

So, I'm going to post this, then get on with the journey.
Thanks again for traveling with me.

I'd love to hear from some of you -- what 'detours' has God brought you along lately?

It's Time

It's time.
At breakfast today, my mom asked me what I'd write about the last few days. I told her that I didn't know. I never know what I'm going to say until I actually sit down and start typing.
Well, it's time.
I'm lounging on a red lawn chair, looking through the yellow fence at the noisy waves of the Atlantic ocean. The fence is for my "protection" - it keeps all of the vendors out. If I want to buy anything, I simply have to go over to the pavilion by the pool. It's full of wooden carvings, manned by a man who grew up up north on the Mali boarder. What he doesn't have, he's happy to go find.
But I think I'm done shopping. I can't fit much else in my suitcase. I had to sit on the top to get it zipped this morning, and I've still got to squeeze my bathing suit in.
I've enjoyed these last few days at the beach. Breaking doctor's orders and sitting in direct African sunlight, walking deep into the bowels of the marche to get mom a birthday pedicure (and causing the whole marche to temporarily lose electricity), eating a demi-poulet avec frites for one last time...
But it's time.
It's time to wrap it all up and stick it in a carry-on. It's time to change out of my bathing suit and into my travel clothes. It's time to begin the long journey home, and the difficult transition back into the world that has become my reality.
At least for the time being.
Pray us safely back to the States, please.  It's a tiring trip. And pray for Mom and Dad as they begin the next phase of their ministry - whatever that may turn out to be.
Godspeed!

Village Baptiste

I'm back at ICA, sitting on a screened-in porch of house #7 on the upper campus. It's called Village Baptiste now, and there's a university using many of the buildings. When we passed by this morning, Muslim praying echoed from one of the old elementary classrooms. There's also a poured concrete wall all around the campus.

We left Torogo around six o'clock and drove down to Bouake in the dark. Although it's rather like a video game - dodging lane-width potholes at 110 kilometers an hour - there is much less traffic at night. There were many police checks on the road, but most of the guards were hesitant to leave their warm campfires, so they just opened the barrier and waved us through. We arrived on campus around 9:30, and were welcomed with a delicious meal of rice and peanut sauce. This morning we explored the campus, then walked around the wall, down to the marigot. It's a rest day.

At what felt like the last minute, Mom got all of the PEDEBE books corrected and archived. There are copies in different discs and memory cards which have been strategically distributed so that the books will never have to be retyped again. She also passed out more than 500 copies of the audio bible in several different languages. We gave one to the groundskeeper at ICA today. He's a pastor (most of the pastors here need to take on other jobs), and was very grateful for the sd card with the bible in French and Jula. He said it was a gift from God which would be very helpful.

Many people have asked me if I'll come out to take Mom and Dad's place here. There's certainly going to be a gap left by their absence. This past term was filled with relationships. Everyone at the church calls them Papa and Maman - and I was adopted quickly as a sister. Although ready to go home and be with friends and family in the states, I can tell that Mom and Dad are already plotting out their next journey back to this continent.

It's hard not to. It's hard to think about leaving this country forever. Yes, I will come back - not sure when, but I will come back. :-)

Wapie cangaa

Online Again

Wow! Internet twice in one week. I'm getting spoiled. :-)
Today we're in town running last minute errands and saying good-byes. We'll swing by the tailors, stop off at the bank to get some money, buy some food for our trip down south, and stop off at the Internet cafe to try to book a ride home from the airport on the 12th.
There's still so much to do, but not so much time. I've been cleaning out cabinets. Dad's been rearranging pounds in suitcases, and Mom was up until 12:30 last night printing out book 8. Because of power fluctuations the printer wasn't working very well, but she us making good progress. She's still got a couple of books left to finish.
Today Dad and I took a four mile bicycle ride out through the corn and cotton fields. Now he's getting the bikes ready to deliver to their new owners.
Tomorrow Mom and I are getting our hair braided. Sunday is the good-bye celebration. Our good-bye gift to the church is a meal - $400 worth of rice, sauce, and beef for about 200 people.
Please pray us through the next couple of days - that we can get everything done, while savoring every moment we've got left.

Checking in...

Checking in...
I've been postponing writing this entry for an hour now. Not because I have nothing to say, but because there's so much to say that I know I can never cram it into a handful of paragraphs. Maybe I should write another book...
Here's a synopsis of the past week. I'll fill in the details later.

Friday -- I made some more glow-in-the-dark bracelets, then we all hopped on the bike and drove out to the Bible school where we gave out the Bibles, erasers, pencils, and sharpeners I'd brought out (thank you to those who donated!). I also tied a lot of bracelets onto a lot of little wrists. Then we rode into town for lunch and errands. Back at the house, someone stopped by for a couple more downloaded audio Bibles. Mom has already given out 482 copies! She's just about out of sd cards, and the man who gets them for her is sick with malaria. Please pray, both for his complete healing and that mom can get more memory cards.

Saturday -- Ceremonie de remise de diplomes le 12eme (graduation)
Eleven students became pastors, with their wives seated behind them. There were a lot of speeches and gifts given throughout the ceremony which was followed by a luncheon of rice and sauce. People broke into family groups seated and squatting around huge basins of food. There were also a couple of long tables where the missionaries and some of the other Bible students and leaders sat, served on individual plates. As a fundraiser for the meal, the graduating students pick a cloth from the marche to sell. Usually that first cloth runs out and they have to pick out a second. Almost everyone at the ceremony was dressed in an outfit created from that cloth. Mom wore a shirt and pagne from the first, my outfit was the second cloth. Dad wore a vest made from the first.

Sunday -- We rode the bike in to the Bible school for church today. This time we were stopped at the barrier (police check) where the guard told us not to put three people on the bike anymore. At church, all of the visitors stood up and introduced themselves - Dad introduced me. The message was preached in English by a visiting pastor from Maine, translated into French, and then summarized in Cebaara. After the service, the visitors left the building first and everyone shook our hands as they left, joining the end of the line to shake hands with the others still coming out.

After church, we went in to town to pick up some cloth, then went to a tailor to order a couple of outfits. Then mom and I took a taxi home and dad followed on the bike.
We got back home to find that our toilet had leaked and the whole back of the house was flooded. A suitcase that dad had already started packing was soaked through, so we emptied it and spread everything out to dry. Then Mom and I mopped up the floor with rags and a bucket while Dad worked on the toilet. The only casualty was a favorite old book.

Monday -- I began cleaning out the kitchen cabinets and bookshelves today. The plumbers came by to fix the toilet.

Tuesday -- Leah, the wife of one of the graduates, took Mom and I in to town to find the ingredients for a special sauce. We rode mototaxis (motorcycles with a yellow cloth draped over the gas tank -- it's apparently ok to ride three to a bike if the driver isn't white). This time when we were stopped at the barrier, the guard merely asked us where our helmets were (the Africans don't wear them). We picked out a rooster from a cage at the marche, and for 100cfa (about a quarter) they offered to kill and pluck it for us.
The rest of the morning was spent in a cooking lesson, preparing the meal, which Leah's family joined us to eat. The food was delicious and the conversation interesting with a blend of three languages being used.
Dad was doing laundry when the outside faucet broke, but he was able to McGyverise it with a ten franc coin and a piece of inner tube rubber. I got a few more cabinets cleaned out, and Dad got a suitcase packed before we walked across the compound for a prayer meeting with some of the other missionaries.
Mom has been working almost non-stop on the final edits of the PEDEBE books. Yesterday someone stopped by with the last two. He's been editing the hard copies and she then has to make all of the changes on the computer. The goal is to have all fifteen books finished and printed out before we leave Torogo on Monday. Please pray for her as the time left begins to dwindle.

Wednesday -- Today we've got some errands to run. Hopefully we'll get a chance to stop by the internet cafe where I can upload this note. It's definitely longer than I meant it to be, but so much shorter than it would be if I could sit down beside you and tell you what's going on over here. Thank you for your prayers. Know I'm praying for you as well.

Where in the world am I?

The journey around the world (Charlton to Boston, to Montreal, to Brussels, to Ouagadougou, to Abidjan) was long, but fairly uneventful. I think the most exciting part was the jammed baggage elevator in Montreal...
More than 24 hours after leaving Charlton, I made it to Abidjan with all of my bags and most of my wits. Mom and Dad met me at the airport and we took a taxi to the guest house.
Monday we spent running errands. An old ICA friend had sent me a bundle of basketball shorts to deliver to a pastor in Abidjan who works with youth. He gets them away from the drugs and alcohol on the city streets by getting them onto a soccer team. He invited us into his home and we drank coca cola while looking at pictures of the team. Then he mentioned a need for soccer balls, so we found him a few.
For supper, we walked down to Steers. There had been a lot of flooding recently, so the sidewalks were muddy and littered with refuse, with huge segments simply missing here and there. When we got to the restaurant, we discovered the power was out on the whole block. We pulled out our flashlights and headed into the dark grocery store to buy some veggies, then got a couple of fire roasted chickens from a street vendor on the walk back.
On Tuesday, we took the bus up north to Korhogo. We had to get up and out of the guest house early to be sure to find a taxi to get us to the bus station on time. We had front row seats, and the bus was air conditioned - a pleasant change from the old buses with the windows open and chickens running up and down the aisles.
With three stops for bathroom breaks in the tall grasses by the side of the road, we made it to the Dispensaire Baptiste in about seven hours. Then I unpacked before we went for a walk.
Our dinner time excitement that night was the small bat that flew by Dad's head as we were eating our beans and potatoes. Fortunately, Dad was able to catch it quickly and we sent him right back outside.
Wednesday was a relaxing day. I helped Mom sort through some of her papers, and I began making bracelets out of glow-in-the-dark beads to give to the children at the graduation ceremony on Friday.
In the evening, a Pedebe (Programme d'Enseignument Decentralise des Eglises Baptiste Evangelique) class that meets in a local village held their class in our living room. The 20 of us sat in a circle on couches and borrowed chairs and communicated in at least three different languages. They spoke for a bit, them scattered to take a test, then rejoined the circle to sing for a while, before finally presenting Mom and Dad with a thank you/good-bye gift - a beautiful wall hanging of Cote D'Ivoire. Then we had crackers and cookies while Mom and I worked on downloading audio copies of the bible in various languages for the students to use in their own ministries.
Today, I'm going to make a few more bracelets. Then the three of us will hop on the motorcycle (they've assured me we'll fit just fine) and go out to the Bible school. Later this afternoon, we'll hitch a ride with another missionary to an Internet cafe where I'm hoping to be able to upload this, and maybe post a few pictures.
The country is so different than I remember it, and yet so unchanged. It's good to be back.

Monday Morning Moment

As I cuddled with my cat this morning, she began to purr. In response, my heart began to sing. So my voice joined in. "Thank You, Jesus. Thank You, thank You Jesus."
It was a song I learned at boarding school in West Africa.
As I sang, I remembered -- that song was not written to thank God for cats. He did much greater things than that.
But sometimes I can't wrap my mind around the greatness, so I simply savor the simple.
A quiet, peaceful moment in a busy day. A purring cat. A happy heart.
Thank You, Abba. Thank You so, so much.

Are You Listening???

I didn’t get good news when I called the mechanic about my car yesterday morning. He swapped the sensor on the new (used) transmission, but the speedometer was still wobbly. He would need to open up the dashboard and look inside to find the problem, and it could be very expensive. I asked if it would be less than $500, and he simply repeated that it could be very expensive.

Finally I told him to take it apart and look at it. If it was too expensive, I’d just have him put it back together and ignore the bobbling orange needle.

Then I prayed.

But I couldn’t hear God’s answer. I asked for a number – then I’d know if I should have it repaired or not. If the cost of repairs was higher than that number, I’d know to say no. But no number was given. I asked for a yes/no – should I repair it? Should I begin car shopping? But no answer. I began to get frustrated. Finally I asked Him if He was even listening. But my heart knew that He was. So I kept asking, and then simply placed it in His hands. Because I know He’s got this, too. Somehow.

I went to work, driving the smart one – so thankful that mom had bought it before she left. I waited, checking my phone whenever I had a break throughout the day. Around 1:45, in the middle of my prep period, the mechanic called.

He’d opened up the dash and tried a couple of things, but nothing fixed the problem. Then, he decided to check inside the new (used) transmission, and found a loose gear. He said this is a very rare problem and he’d never seen it in a Toyota before. He’s already ordered a new (used) transmission. Unfortunately it’ll be another week, but it won’t cost me anything.

Which is why God didn’t give me a number. He knew I really didn’t need one. He wasn’t ignoring me at all. He just wanted me to wait and see. To trust Him. To let Him be God of all the details…

Is there anything you need to leave in God’s hands today?

In His Hands

I did it!
I finally did it.
I wrote and published my book.
It only took seven years, but it's there. :)
It's currently available on Create Space, and will be available on

Amazon in five to seven days ($10 for paperback, $5 for kindle version).
Thank you, to everyone who encouraged me along the way. This one's for you!



In His Hands: My Seven-Year Detour Through Cancer
by Monica Leigh Nelson 

 

List Price: $10.00

6" x 9" (15.24 x 22.86 cm)
Black & White on Cream paper
124 pages

ISBN-13: 978-1480243255 (CreateSpace-Assigned)
ISBN-10: 1480243256
BISAC: Biography & Autobiography / Religious

 

A collection of essays dealing with every stage of the cancer journey from diagnosis to picking up the pieces and finding the new normal, but always returning to the central message that God is in control.  
This book reminds readers that even though there is pain in this world, there is also hope. You come away saying, “Hey, I could do that. No matter what happens tomorrow, God’s got my back.”

Good Friday

Today is Good Friday for so many reasons. It's the first day of vacation, it's an I-can-stay-in-pj's-all-day-if-i-want-to-day, and it's the day we remember that Great Sacrifice made on our behalf. Jesus, the Christ, allowed himself to be crucified for my sins so that One Day I can wear His robes of Righteousness in Joyous Eternity.

My second graders would be complaining about all of the capital letters I used in that paragraph. Names only, Miss Nelson. Proper nouns are names.
Yes, little ones, they are. But sometimes we need to emphasize the very important words.

Great Sacrifice, One Day, Righteousness, Joyous Eternity.

On the sad days, I cling to those words.
On the happy days, I dance in the unfathomable knowledge that that day will be even better than this one...

And this one is pretty good.

My book is all formatted and off with a friend of a friend for its final edit. It's Almost Done!
I'm on vacation, resting, refreshing, and gearing up for the last leg of the 2013-2014 school year.
And, I'm checking out airline prices to book a trip. We're still praying about it, but it looks like I'm going to swing out to Africa and help bring my parents home. :-)

Please pray with me for the logistics of the trip - that the details fall into place, that the journey goes safely, that I can wait patiently... Oh, and pray about the book, too. It's been a long time in the making. I'm excited to be at this stage. Almost seven years since diagnosis! I've said it before, and it hope I never stop saying it: Thank You for walking this path with me.

Be sure you also take a moment to walk with the One Who gave His All for You today.

They were right -- 40 ain't that bad

I know I’m breaking a cardinal rule of blogging by posting on a Monday, but I’ve just got so much to say.

I attended a poetry reading today. Perhaps I should clarify that I was one of the poets. I read three of my poems – including an old favorite, The Christmas Thank you. We chatted and discussed, and then two people turned to me saying, “Have you ever considered…” while handing me their business cards.

Let’s back up a bit.

While this Saturday morning I was seated in a circle with a group of Lewis fans sharing poetry, last Saturday morning I lay in my bed pondering the ramifications of turning 40 (I was equally nervous on both occasions).

The first 20 years of my life were spent growing up. Then my goose was born and I spent the next 20 years of my life helping him grow up. He’ll be turning 20 this July. Which means that task is done. I’ll always be his mother, and hopefully his adviser, confident, and friend. Be he no longer needs me in that dedicated role.

The question became, What will I do with the next 20 years?

I decided that maybe now it’s time to really focus on my writing. So I got out of bed and sorted through my poems, chose some and clipped them together, promising myself that I would publish them. That would be my birthday gift to myself (along with all three seasons of Due North).

Now back to today’s poetry reading.

One person handed me his business card, telling me that he has a connection at DANA Farbor if I were ever interested in doing a poetry reading there. He felt that others would benefit from the perspective and hope I found through my own cancer experience.

The other, with tears in her eyes, handed me her card and told me that I had to get my story out there. She’d just self-published her own story in November and has already sold 600 books. She wants to market my story. She is going home to put my poem on her website right now.

As I ponder the obvious hand of God in this, I realized that both of these people were new to our group. They had come to hear another poet. But God had wanted them to hear me.

So I’m sitting by my melting lake, listening to the crackles and streams of water running under the ice, knowing that God is on the move.

And suddenly, I’m oh-so-excited to be 40!

I just wanted to let you know…

Priceless

“May I join You?” I still feel the hesitance. He is God and I am just me. Unworthy. Little. Sinful.

                But He exudes joy at my presence. “Yes. Please. Of course. Come sit. Why do you keep asking? You know I want You to come and sit beside me. This is Your spot I’ve saved for You. Please come sit and join me.”

                “Thank You, Abba. For loving me.”

                He just smiles.

                It’s quiet. Then He asks, “Do you doubt my love for you?”

                “No,” I answer. Not quickly and defensively. But slowly and thoughtfully. “No. I don’t doubt it. I just wonder why.”

                “Because I made you. Because you’re mine.”

                Again it’s quiet.

                “Now what are you wondering?”

                “Why did you make me so flawed?” The question comes out without me really thinking about it. When I hear it, I’m shocked. Am I blaming God for who I am?

                “What are the flaws you see?” He asks, without a trace of anger.

                I think.

                “I’m impatient. I get angry. I forget to visit You, or worse, I refuse to. I have dark spots inside.”

                “Dark spots?”

                “Dark spots. Areas I can’t go. Things I won’t think about. But that make me who I am.”

                “And were they there when I made you?”

                “No. Living my life put them there.”

                “So I didn’t make the dark spots –“

                “And You didn’t make me flawed.”

                “So, just because what I made got dirty, should I love it any less?”

                “No.”

                Long silence.

                “Can I have your dark spots?”

                “Will I have to look at them to give them to You?”

                “Maybe. Do you trust me?”

                “Yes.” Emphatically. Immediately. “Yes, I trust You. You may have my dark spots. You may have my life. You may have my son. My crafts. My gifts. My money. My clothes. My emotions. My time. My present. My future. And You may have my past.”

                “Thank you. I give you back today.”

                “That’s it?” But it’s not a complaint. It’s a joyful release. A realization that all I’m required to do is live today. All I’m responsible for is right now. No worries about tomorrow. No regrets about yesterday. I only have today.

                “That’s it.” And there’s happy laughter in His voice. Perhaps even pride that I’d begun to catch on? And love. Lot’s of love.

                “Yes. I trust You.” I say again.

                “So what will you do?” He asks.

                “Hmm?” I was lost in thought of trust, love, friends.

                “So what will You do with today?”

                “What do You want me to do?”

                “Live.”

                And a couple of doubts creep in. A couple of fears crop up. I need more details. I want more specifics. How do I live? What exactly should I do? But He’s quiet.

                “I’ve already told you all that,” he finally answers.

                But I want more. I want direct orders to follow.

                “Why?”

                “So I don’t make any mistakes. I trust You. I just don’t trust me. Make me trustworthy. Make me worthwhile.”

                “Your worth is the price I paid for you. Your worth is the extent of My love for you.”

                “That would make me priceless.”

                “Exactly.”

                And my mind jumped a couple of steps ahead. “That would make everyone around me priceless.”

                “Exactly.”

                “So that’s what I’ll do today.”

                “What?”

                “I’ll feed Your sheep. I’ll love Your people.”

                “Thank you.”

                “Thank You.” And I jump up off the savior’s mat and run back to my kitchen to begin baking.