Room on the Page

Sitting on the breezeway; curled up on the leather chair. Birds chirp outside; air conditioners hum and the woosh of an occassional car drives by the house.

It is a moment to be still--to obtain comfort from voices inside my house without needing to respond nor adhere to the meaning of their sounds.

My have to do list and my want to do list would cascade off even a legal sized page. But in this moment I choose to let those items all slide off. Instead, for a moment, I pretend the page is blank--completely white. And, I ask my God.
"What dear Lord, would you have me put upon that page?"


Why, I wonder, do I fill my page so that there is no room for my Lord to write?

Epiphanies. of the olfactory sort....

The first thing you must understand is that I haven't smelled much of anything...or I could say I have smelled just about absolutely nothing since February of this year. It's this sinus thing that came upon me January 22nd to be exact.

The first line of my journal on that evening--

" A red letter day--and today, I cannot breathe. I find myself mired in this physical difficulty. .....
I am getting closer to my visions and thus the very breath is being sucked out of me."

Dramatic, yes, I know--perhaps a bit. But you must know that air at that point was not getting in nor out through my nostrils. Short of hanging myself upside down from the ceiling, I was trying everything and NOTHING was working! A doctor's visit, sudafed, a call to the nurses hot line and many suggestions later...I could breathe, but I was continuously blowing, sniffling, taking my dosage of sudafed and telling myself--'Not too much longer, this will end.'.

Funny, though, when I think back, I cannot remember when exactly my ability to smell vanished. It was probably during one of the 'stuffed up' episodes when I didn't take too much notice of that one little fact as I concentrated on clearing passages so that I could indeed, breathe.

Food wasn't so much fun either, but hey, I could stand to lose a few. I learned to fend off the comments.."Do you still have that cold?" "What does the doctor say?" Life was busy after all and who has time for such trivialities as 'smell'.

It turned out...I did. Around March, I became weary and missed that I could no longer smell the coffee brewing. Cookies were in the oven and I had to watch the clock more precisely because I didn't catch the "almost done" smell I used to rely on. Showers, shampooing and sudsing up were all now 'senseless' acts. Which shampoo to use? Did it really matter?

Towards the end of March I went to spend a few days with my parents, as I spent time there I realized with great sadness that I was not smelling the fragrant cooking smells often associated with my father's kitchen. I would leave that weekend and have no sweet smelling memories of garlic, bread baking, nor tomato sauce simmering. At such a moment I felt the depth of my loss. It was the Sunday morning before I was to return home that I experienced my first 'smell epiphany'.

We had just finished the noon meal when all of a sudden 'smells' assaulted me and I couldn't quite distinguish them one from another. I began sniffing wildly. To which my father looked at me and said, "What's wrong...? Something smell?" "Oh, yes...something smells! But it's a good smell!" I could smell the tomato sauce, I put a forkful of homemade pasta to my nose and I swear I could even smell the pasta. I picked up my cup of coffee and smelled the richness of the dark roasted coffee beans. I took a slice of the homemade bread and inhaled in the musty smell of yeast and flour. I smelled the cheese, the olives, and even the butter. I believed I had experienced a miracle...but as quickly as it came...sadly, it was gone.

I would have a few more of these experiences in which I would have the luxury of smelling cinnamon, oatmeal, my own perfume, hand cream, bacon frying in hot grease and the musty odor of the garage. I have come to call these moments 'smell epiphanies'. For me they are nothing less than the Alleluia Chorus sung by angels. Unfortunately they last all of about 5 minutes.

Yesterday afternoon, I had another one of these 'epiphanies'. It happened about 3:15 in the afternoon while preparing to frost the 'graduation cupcakes' for our 8th grader. Out of nowhere a scent wafted through my nostrils. It was the sweet smell of warm chocolate from the cupcakes.
It was a moment to grab. Quick! What would I like to smell? I picked up a sandwich half and put it near enough to smell. Interestingly enough, I could dissect the sandwich down to the scent of the lettuce. What next? The roses I purchased for the graduate beckoned to me from their vase. Ohh, such sweetness! I had to go back a couple of times for more. My daughter laughed from her chair on the breezeway as I carried on so. I ran from thing to thing because I didn't know how long this epiphany would last. As always, I smelled the coffee grounds, I smelled a cupcake, the frosting canister, ....what next? Outdoors! I pushed the screen door open, ran to the yard, picked up a pot of dirt...and just wasn't sure if that was a smell or not....tried again...and realized it was over. As quickly as it began, it ended. Sigh.....

There are so many moments in my life, I need to grab and savor...because I just don't really know when they will end. This olfactory problem makes me keenly aware of the importance of the little things. We just can't take them for granted. Life changes and there is indeed a time for everything.

Father, Let me sing while my voice can still carry a tune. Let me hug while loved ones are near. Let me walk the miles my legs allow me to go. Let me send cheerful notes to those who can still open envelopes, and let me give thanks for all the blessings big and small that make a difference in my days.

Vexed Ego

Are you God's Host or your Egos's Hostage?
I heard this phrase once and have used it as a question especially when I have become overly attached to the outcome of my pursuits in terms of how well I did or did not perform. One area in my life where I am very hard on myself is during a scrabble game. ..... Ok, I admit it. I am very competitive. I may not show it outwardly, but I want to win. I want big points for the words I come up with.

One such game was interesting as I relentlessly tried to score high against a friend who is an excellent scrabble player. My trouble on this occasion was that I kept picking low scoring letters along with way too many vowels. So, of course, the big counters just weren't happening. Slowly and oh, so insidiously I became more and more unhappy with my results. Doggone it...what kind of word could I make? Last I checked 'eieio' wasn't really a word outside of McDonald's farm! My friend's score rose by leaps and bounds and mine merely trickled, 10 points here, 8 there and maybe a whopping 15 over here. The more her score accelerated, the more I gagged and fumed over the smoke left in her wake.

And then it came...that silent little voice that often nudges at me. " you can only do the best with what you have" and my bigger, bossier voice said, 'well, if I was worth my weight in letters, I'd be able to come up with something better than this."
(small silent voice) "be reasonable, just do the best you can."
(bossy alter ego) "Well, come on now, I just need a little meat here. something to work with --cut me some slack!"
(small silent voice) "Have you ever thought of the people out there who just do the
best they can--with what they have?"
(bossy alter ego) "What does that have to do with scrabble? Ugh! Would you look at that--another triple letter score!"
(small silent voice) 'sigh'

The game went on- word for word. Once again it was my turn and on my wooden holder stood 3 E's a D, 2 I's and a U. My eyes scanned the board for what little hope I placed in finding a stellar word. And then as if someone turned the light on in heaven, I saw a place to put my precious e and d. On the end of the word 'vex' with the nearby 'go' I could intersect the two and make 'vexed ego'!

Finally some points that mattered. I was thrilled and amazed at how perfectly my two little scorers could work their way in to what I would term as a home run or a touch down! I still had what it took to make a creative play.

(small silent voice) " ...that's what you have.."
(bossy alter ego) " a nice move!"
(small silent voice) "...no, a vexed ego."

As my friend continued to peruse the board for her next move, I went to look up the word 'vex'.

Vex: 2. to torment, trouble, distress, plague, worry.

When I put them together, I stopped dead in my tracks. Here I was so consumed by winning that I placed the value of who I was as a child of God primarily on my ability to get 'high scoring' words. Did I not realize that it wasn't all about 'me'? Did I not realize that in this world sometimes, we can only do the best we can and leave room for the miracles of God to pave the way?

When I put too much stock in my own abilities, I begin to become plaqued and tormented by the worry that I am not enough. I put all my actions under a microscope and continue to disect how I could've done better, faster, and greater. I begin to compare and contrast to the actions of others. I soon become my ego's hostage. I edge God out and I am no longer his host.
My peace is gone. So I turn to scripture for the prescription of a vexed ego.

Phillipians 2:3 -5 Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves Each of you should look not only to your own interests but also to the interests of others. Your attitude to be the same as that of Christ Jesus.

What's control got to do with it?!

This morning in the shower I felt overwhelmed.

The pellets of water cascaded over me and try as I might to list all the things I was thankful for: wonderful mother's day-with kids I love, new pepper seedlings sprouting, a rewarding job, a repaired vehicle..... my mind kept taking me back to the bills, the rush of trying to keep up, sibling rivalry, the future forseen and unseen.

I tried to lay claim to my rights as a child of the God who is mighty, my fortress, my refuge and strength. Finally I sighed in frustration and asked..'why Oh Lord, with thankfulness and laying claim to your word do I still feel overwhelmed...and well, miserable?'

An almost immediate response came to the depths of my inner being--'because you want to control it all.' It stopped me in mid-sudsing. "I do NOT want to control it all." I protested.
"I just want to do it right." After all, if I parented right, budgeted right, pulled the weeds in a timely manner, wrote daily, created better to do lists, was organized, stayed on top of things, my life would not be out of control!

At the near point of hyperventilating at the thought of all I was not doing 'right' in my life, I quickly rinsed off and stepped out of the shower to get some air. "I do not have time for this" I hissed to myself.

The minutes marched on and I quickly grabbed my stuff and headed to our room to prepare for the day ahead. I flipped on the tv and Joyce Meyer talked about children in Cambodia who had to scavage for food daily at the dump. I thought about children who were hungry here in our country, people who lost jobs and went without. I was also reminded of people who did work hard--very hard, but still couldn't make ends meet. After all vehicles break down, accidents happen, and relationships can crumble. Even Jesus said, "in this life you will have troubles." I was trying so hard to have no troubles that it was robbing me of my peace. "No, " I thought to myself. " I cannot control it all."

The tension in my body started to relax itself. With a few more deep breaths, I gave it up. I am no more in complete control of my own life than a tree is in control of what direction the wind blows its leaves. I can only do what I can do and relinquish the rest to God.

Edward Everett Hale said:
I am only one, but I am one. I cannot do everything, but I can do something.
And I will not let what I cannot do interfere with what I can do.

My prayer for today: Lord help me to realize that I cannot control it all. Help me to do what I can and leave the leftover 'stuff' to you. Amen.

The Choice is Ours......

It all began with an apple. To eat or not to eat? That was the question. Or was it?

In life the choice is always ours. To be or not to be? To believe or to not believe? To follow, or not to follow?

In an individualistic society as we have today--it all boils down to my own person or God's person? Nicodemus was told that he could have the kingdom of heaven in John 3 if he were born again. The rich man in Matthew 19 was told he could have the kingdom of heaven if he sold all he had and followed Jesus.

Each of these men--including us--have that choice. Do we want to hold onto all we have on this earth--in this world? OR do we want to choose the life that God has for us?

If only it were as simple as to whether we will eat the apple, or not. Heck, I'd give up apples for eternal happiness and bliss.

But, will I give up control? Will I give up the notion that I am the center of my universe? Will I give up the possibility of the self made life of glamour and grandeur that the media promises me daily?

Sunday morning I felt the tug at my soul. There was the sobering thought as I came to the morning light. 'Many--though I don't like the implication of this word--will choose self over God.' It will be more important to use the 'free will' God has given to be the individual self separate from God than to be with God.

To some individuals-with myself at risk as well--the cost/risk of losing God is of less importance than being all that we want to be--right or wrong. Has self bravado and the mark of individuality become more important than being in the image of God?

In the beginning was the choice. Woman and man chose self. Jesus came to offer us another chance at the choice. What will you choose?

"Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves. Each of you should look not only to your own interests but also to the interests of others. Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus." Phil 2:3-5

Do not grow weary......for you will reap a pepper!

A motivational speaker stated, it's not how many seeds in the apple that count but rather how many apples in the seed. In my case- peppers.

My saga began during the first week of August 2008 when I cut open a red bell pepper and decided to take the core of seeds and plant it in a 16oz bright yellow smiley face mug. I scooped in some dirt, placed the core of seeds(I didn't even bother to spread them), covered them with dirt, added water, placed them on a sunny window ledge and hoped for the best. After about a week and a half passed, I noticed a few green sprouts. I quickly scooped up the yellow mug and took it for a tour of the office. "Look, I'm getting pepper plants!" Everyone nodded politely and went back to their work. Vigilantly I watered, watched and waited expectantly for the next milestone of pepperhood.

Reluctantly, I left for vacation with strict orders to my staff, "Don't let anything happen to the pepper plants!" They complied and my pepper plants had grown about another 1/2 inch by the time of my return. And so it went...water, watch and wait. Water, watch and wait.

The time had finally come when I could count about 24 sprouts in that mug. It was time to separate this growing family and leave them room to thrive in separate pots. I took a family portrait and stuck it to the side of the indoor greenhouse plastic. This way they could remember their heritage and the bright yellow mug they came from.

With so many changes coming to the pepperdom, I consulted with my seasoned gardner/father for advice. It was not the news I wanted to hear. "You won't get peppers." he said matter of factly.

" But what if I keep the plants indoors...in a greenhouse?" I was grasping for straws.

I had made it this far. What was I to do? I couldn't just give up, stop watering, and neglect this new life that had come to be. Could I? His response to my protests--"It isn't very likely".

As in all things, time passed. I continued to water and watched as the plants became sturdier and the leaves green and plentiful. During the holidays I gloated as a proud parent to my own parents on the growth taking place. My mother, ever the practical one, stated that the plant could have all the leaves it wantd but without flowering there would be no fruit, ahem 'pepper'.

Not too long after this conversation--lo and behold I had not one, but two flowers come to rest upon one of the pepper plants. I was beside myself with joy. Again the plant made it's rounds among the staff and residents. This time I got a little more than a nod and my consistent vigil started up once again. It was with great disappointment that I had to report that the flowers dropped from the leaves and no pepper was in sight.

Life went on. I learned to knit. I continued my blog, my children needed me more, the snow fell and winter colds came and went. Through it all I watered, watched and waited. Then, not too long ago, I noticed a couple of flowers popping out not on just one plant, but now two! I took these two plants from the pepperdom and set them right near my desk and windowsill.

Last Sunday evening--March 1st I spoke with my father over the phone in regards to summer gardening. Again the topic of the pepper plants came up. "Do you think if I put them outside this summer I might get some peppers?" I waited for the answer I wanted. "No, Carm, I don't think there will be any peppers from those plants." I sighed. Perhaps I could start again with a new batch.

Later that evening, I went into work to catch up on a few things. I glanced up over my computer toward one of the plants. The flowers seemed to be sticking to something. I stood up to get a closer look. It was a green bump. "By golly...could it be...Lord, of all things...a pepper!!!"

Heaven and earth moved. I sat down in that moment and wrote on a post it note--" Let us not grow weary of doing good for at a proper time we will reap a harvest -if we do not give up." Galatians 6:9

Jesus and everything, we''ll ever need.

I am writing in the wee hours of the morning to break the spell of not writing. It's not that I haven't thought of writing and actually have some well penned articles in my head. There's the one about playing scrabble and my vexed ego, the one I want to tribute to my father--"Memories of my father"--while he still lives, and the other about becoming like a child in order to enter the kingdom of God.

Somehow my overriding need for "doing it right" is winning over the "just get 'er done". Well enough is enough. I am writing for better or for worse. It may not flow. Hey, it just might be 'all over the map', and abounding with one cliche after another. Yet, there is a part of me that just needs to fill space. Whatever happened to I am loved by God just because. " I am fearfully wonderfully made"?(Psalm 139 13:14)

My inner life is fraught with all I should be doing, should have done, and should plan to do.

Whatever happened to 'be still and know that I am God"?(Psalm 46:10)

Two memories come to mind:

1. I was on a bus, rushing to meet my next connection on the way to work. My mind was moving faster than my body as my stress level mounted with each item I remembered on my list of things to do. Suddenly--out of nowhere, in my mind's eye I saw Jesus standing in a doorway and he said, "What's the rush? I'll still be here." It took me back for a second and opened my eyes to the fact that my rushing and stressing was not going to make one iota of a difference. Jesus is always there for me.

2. One day as I was clearing the altar at work after a church service for our residents, I received a strong feeling and voice of God in my heart tell me that " I will provide 'everything' you need." I did not get the sense that it was all about material items. He literally meant 'everything'--courage, time, resources etc...to do what he called me to do.

So now, I will end this-abrupt as it is. For I will always have Jesus, and God will provide 'everything' that I need--and for you too. : )