Embracing the Unknown – Week 20

May 25, 2013 by 5 Comments

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During my adolescent years, my mother worked for Trans World Airlines (TWA) in reservations. It was the era of wearing your best dress on board the airplane, not your pajamas. The era when children visited the cockpit, had awkward conversations with the pilots and received wing pins as a souvenir. I even remember getting a ColorForms set to pass the time from the stewardess who looked like a Miss America contestant.

I know revealing all this probably dates me. But I hope you’ll continue reading anyway.

Even though flights were discounted for us, my mother was a working single parent with little time or extra money for travel. Vacation for me meant car trips with my grandparents to places in the Midwest, like Silver Dollar City and Lake of the Ozarks. Before those places became the poster for tacky tourist clichés.

One year, my mother asked, “If you could pick anywhere, where would you like to take a summer vacation with me?”

I said Arizona.

She brought home pamphlets and brochures on Tucson and Phoenix.

We ended up going to Disneyland in California instead.

I don’t know why I said Arizona, except that saguaro’s and the barrenness of the desert seemed intriguing. So completely different than lying on a beach towel in the grass, slathered in baby oil, suffocated by humidity.

What I didn’t know when I said Arizona is that I would meet my husband there years later. That my kid’s birth certificates would say they were born in Phoenix.

God places destiny in our heart and often we can’t comprehend it. But God is faithful to lead us there, one day at a time.

As you enter the holiday weekend, may you embrace the unknowns beyond your carefully crafted plans. Revel in the knowledge that He designed the journey with you in mind; trust that He is leading you to destiny, one day at a time. Even when you don’t have all the answers.

Happy Sabbath Friends!

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Listen to What They Aren’t Saying

May 20, 2013 by 44 Comments

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“How are you,” I ask.  She looks up from wiping the sink, into the mirror to get a look at me. Then she leans her whole body sideways, finishes swiping the white enamel canoe shaped sink until the bowl is spotless.  She smiles and says she is fine. I linger because I sense something more.

Her round cheeks permanently flush, like someone wiped their finger stained with lipstick across them. Her skin is so pale it nearly matches the color of the thin white blouse she wears, making her blue eyes noticeable.

“It’s almost time to go home,” she says.

I turn around with dripping hands looking for the towels and empathize, “You must be counting the minutes then.”

She pulls herself up, moves over to the next sink in the trio and tells me she will be going to the hospital to visit her granddaughter when she gets off.

I hesitate, look in the mirror on the opposite wall and realize we’re the only ones in the bathroom at the Delta Club now. Just outside the door the room is full of travelers speaking different languages. Sitting with their luggage at white plastic tables, eating plates of carrots and salmon sandwiches shaped like rectangles. Somehow, it feels like I’ve entered a sacred portal.

I ask Jesus what He has in mind for these moments that I’m alone in the restroom with an airport employee.

“Oh, she must be quite sick,” I respond.

In less than a minute, I learn that her granddaughter is sixteen, her name is Courtney, and the doctors think she suffers from appendicitis. Except that there are signs of internal bleeding too. She can’t even hold water down.

I tell her I have a seventeen year old daughter and can imagine she must be worried sick. “That sounds serious,” I say.

She makes eye contact with me.

“I’ll pray for your Courtney,” I tell her. She looks down, fiddles with the wet paper towel she is using to clean and mumbles something quietly, then starts wiping the third sink, the one I just used.

“Thank you for praying,” she says sheepishly.

It only takes a minute to be vulnerable and lead someone to the presence of God.  I think about how many times I’ve asked someone that question, “How are you?”, and didn’t wait long enough to hear the answer. Or God speaking.

We’re all longing for someone to listen. Because very few of us are just fine.

So, how are you?

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Linking with Michelle, Laura, Jen and Heather.

 

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Surrendering to Sabbath – Week 17

May 4, 2013 by 16 Comments

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My bags are packed with socks and scarves, and lots of layers for indecisive May in England. And we’re cousins, the weather and I, when it comes to books.

Because sometimes a trip isn’t as much about the change of pace and new scenery as the gift of empty time in the wait to get there. That time when I can’t do anything except read. And that’s where my indecisiveness hovers over the wings of the plane.

Which book should I choose first?

I’ve just finished Wonderstruck, Love Does and the Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry.

I’m taking a journal, oh yes leather and a pen, to write down all the stories swirling in my mind. It sits right next to my Kindle, loaded with Thin Places, Free Fall to Fly, and God in the Yard. The new smell of pages in The Light Between Oceans awaits the christening of dark chocolate smudges and brown drip circles from Starbucks and Diet Coke.

Because when I read fiction, I need to feel the glossy cover and flip pages between my fingers.

Reading, it’s the gift I give myself during Sabbath. Because words change me.

“Why are we reading if not in hope that the writer will magnify and dramatize our days, will illuminate and inspire us with wisdom, courage, and the possibility of meaningfulness, and will press upon our minds the deepest mysteries, so we may feel again their majesty and power?”   ~ Annie Dillard, The Writing Life

So what are you reading? What would you put in your carry-on knowing you have a window of eight hours of unscheduled time?

Click on the What I Read tab to find more good reads. The books below are from my favorite bookstore in London: Persephone Books.

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Inspired reading around the web this week:

A Circuitous Route – Beautiful poetry by Elizabeth Marshall

On Dreaming and the Good of Contradictions – Ashley Larkin expresses how I feel about my retreat experience last weekend.

God in the Yard – Jody is slowing for Sabbath through the words of a book that is transforming her one word at a time. (and I have it now on my Kindle)

Why You Shouldn’t Read This Blog – because everything Margaret Feinberg writes is full of love and wisdom.

What Heaven Will Be Like – get some tissues and be prepared for God to meet you in this beautiful piece of writing by my dear friend Duane at Scribing the Journey.

Happy Sabbath Friends!

 

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Surrendering to Sabbath – Week 15

April 20, 2013 by 3 Comments

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Right now, if you clicked on this in your inbox, I’m standing in front of a crowd of writers and dreamers hoping my hair isn’t too fuzzy, the sweat rings under my arms don’t show and what I’m saying actually resonates with those listening. I’ll be in a bit of awe that I’m actually looking into the eyes of people I’ve only known through their voices on the internet. Words and cadence tapped out on a screen. Wondering if our rhythm and intonation will sound anything like what we’ve imagined.

I’ll worry about which pictures I will share with you next week, not wanting to make anyone feel left out or less than because you couldn’t be there, even though you wanted to take part. And I won’t like myself in any of the pictures people take. I’ll think I look too fat or old, and I’ll wish I didn’t show my  undesirably crooked teeth when I smile.

My blond, blue eyed best friend will drive to Nebraska from Kansas and sit in the audience smiling with a heart of gold. I’ll know that no matter what I say or how puffy my eyes look today, she’ll revel in it. All of it. Because she loves me, this I know.

There is something about someone in your life who isn’t a family member, yet knows the deepest parts of your frailties and insecurities, and consistently overlooks them for the strengths and wisdom that blindside you. Because when they are your gifts, they seem ordinary. But with God, ordinary often communicates in extraordinary ways. And that is what she consistently reminds me.

I’ll want to strap her to my back so she can be in on every conversation. Because that is what best friends do, right?

Perhaps Sabbath begins that moment when you’re busy thinking about what you should say and do and your gaze turns to the audience of creation as the sun lies down. You see the trees budding limey and pink, their leaves cupping dew, capturing slanted light from the stage below heaven. And when you look up, Jesus sits noticeably in the audience.

He’s smiling and believing in you. Just the way you are; frailties, mistakes, mishaps and the messiness of it all. Because he’s blindsided by His love for you. Completely captivated by the way He made you.

Sometimes we only see ourselves the way we really are when we stop. And the reality underneath the layers of the way we think we need to measure up? Well, it’s beautiful.

Have you stopped to rest this week? You may need to be reminded about how beautiful you are. Because you are, you know? You are beautiful.

I’m sharing my favorite posts this week on my side bar under Delicious Reads. And the video is something everyone should watch. It’s powerful.

Happy Sabbath Friends!

 

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Surrendering to Sabbath – Week 6

February 15, 2013 by 20 Comments

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H and I woke up in a hotel room last Sunday, ate room service with his mother at a conference table, and packed up our dirty laundry from the week. I spent the majority of my Sabbath in the car. We sat in silence for the first hour, watching the trees blur while our weary hearts warmed to the sun streaming in through the windows.

We discovered the secret to making biscuits on NPR. I read snippets from Love Does out loud to H. In between dozing off and private conversations with God, I made up stories in my mind about all those shacks out my window in the middle of abandoned patches of weedy fields. For four hours I thought about what I’ve taken for granted about love.

Sometimes you need to be trapped in a car to have Sabbath.

It’s really not as much about where you are or what you do, as it is about harnessing your heart and mind around the One chasing you with abandon all week. He’ll wait for that moment when you stop long enough to recognize he’s been there all along.

And when you do stop, all the questions fogging up the mirror in your mind, they will melt away. And your reflection will become crystal clear in the countenance of His unfathomable grace.

I once heard somebody say that God had closed a door on an opportunity they had hope for. But I’ve always wondered if, when we want to do something that we know is right and good, God places that desire deep in our hearts because He wants it for us and it honors Him. Maybe there are times when we think a door has been closed and, instead of misinterpreting the circumstances, God wants us to kick it down. Or perhaps just sit outside long enough until somebody tells us we can come in. ~Love Does by Bob Goff

Interested in joining the Surrendering to Sabbath Society, a growing sisterhood of nearly seventy that say, “Yes, I’m all in”? Send me an email: shelly@redemptionsbeauty.com.

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Links around the web worth a click:

Barbara Brown Taylor on Sabbath - we initiated Redemptions Beauty Book Club with her book Leaving Church last year.

52 Sunday Suppers – Kristin shares some fond memories of Sunday dinner and her pot roast is “the way pot roast should taste” according to H.

How Midrash Can Change Your Spiritual Life Forever by Margaret Feinberg

What Do You Need to See In Your Life Today by Holley Gerth

Holey, Wholly, Holy by Kris Camealy – a free e-book for Lent when you sign up for Kris’s newsletter.

And just a whisper here: I found out today that I lost hundreds of my WordPress.com followers in the migration of this new website. I would be ever so grateful for your continued presence in this community by joining through email or a preferred RSS feed. Thank you.

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Stepping On Toes to Freedom

October 10, 2012 by 28 Comments

“Bring them with you,” said Rwandan Archbishop Kolini as we huddled in conversation with stragglers left in the building. I took a step backward, the thought hadn’t crossed my mind.  Actually, maybe it had but I couldn’t face it. The implications seemed too costly.

I was lamenting about living away from family members, worrying about what I would do with my children while H and I led a mission team to Rwanda for ten days. My kids were only ten and seven at the time, too young to travel that far away.

In the two seconds it took the Archbishop to say those words – bring them with you – many questions affirming why I couldn’t do it floated to my cerebral surface.

How would they handle thirty-six hours of travel and what if they got sick? What if they couldn’t eat the food? Would they take cold showers and sleep under a mosquito net without screens on the windows?

What if they caught some life threatening disease and we didn’t have access to medical attention, or it affected them for the rest of their lives? What if they had to go to the bathroom in a hole in the ground? What about the endless hours sitting on hard benches listening to someone speak in a language they couldn’t understand?

Then one ordinary Sunday morning while sitting in church, I closed my eyes and heard this phrase in my mind: “I didn’t call you to follow me in order to be comfortable and secure. All your reasons for not wanting the children to go with you are about those two things.”

Ouch.

He stepped on my toes, wounded my pride.

And we got their passports ready.

My kids slept for hours on the plane, folded over with their legs hanging down, necks contorted to the side. They never complained once about any of things that worried me.  Moreover, they never complained, period, even when Harrison’s Nintendo DS games went missing on our layover in Nairobi.

And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life? ~ Matthew 6:27

And while we sat on a terrace overlooking Kigali, eating bananas and hard-boiled eggs, the Archbishop stood beside our table and said, “We know people really love us when they bring their children to Rwanda. We rarely see children visit because their parents are too afraid to bring them. So, thank you for loving us.”

Sometimes letting go of comfort and security, it’s the most loving and safe thing you can do.

I have a few blogging friends giving up warm showers, microwaves and time with family to go to Haiti this week.  They swallow malaria pills over meals and share their gift of prose so we can better know how to help the Haitian people recover from tragedy.  Because letting go of comfort and security, it’s the most loving and safe thing they can do.

Read about Help One Now Haiti Bloggers here. And this post by Dan King at Bible Dude on three reasons why you should follow their journey. This story by Duane Scott at Scribing the Journey is a haunting and honest account about his first night in Haiti.

Linking with Ann, Jennifer, WLWW, Emily, Duane.

This is the tenth post in the series 31 Days of Letting Go. You can read the collective here. If you are a writer, I invite you to link up any post you’ve written on the theme of letting go in the comments here on Friday. Subscribe to receive the series in your inbox or feed by adding your address in the side bar under Follow Redemptions Beauty.

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Celebrating With An Olympic Feast

August 9, 2012 by 15 Comments

It’s hour nineteen in the mini-van on the second day of vacation.  Our legs ache and we’re giddy, singing silly songs when we round the familiar corner in Eganville, Ontario, just thirty minutes away from our final destination, the family cottage.  A black sign on wheels at the edge of an empty lot congratulates Melissa Bishop, 2012 Olympic Runner, in white magnetic letters.

For a moment, the car breathes silent because this town is a blink on the road and we feel it. The way Melissa, she carries hope for all of them to London.

A few days later I take a morning walk on a road that looks like a miniature model of the Great Lakes after a rainstorm.  An unfamiliar turn to get a closer look at a seaplane parked on the lake leads to a rock of etched words that distract me.

This little strip of public beach at the end of the road where I stand is a park dedicated to Sheryl Boyle, 1996 Canoe Olympian from Renfrew, a community nearby. The rock declares it. I’ve been coming to the cottage since 1995 and never walked past that rock.

At 8:00 pm every evening on vacation, we stop whatever we’re doing to take our places around the television to witness the resurrection of hope, the surprise of redemption in the feats of athletes around the world. Olympians remind us that the unknowns of the world just like us make history.

It’s my birthday today and I’m celebrating over an Olympic feast at the Schell Café. Kristin Schell and I were introduced online by her mother, Vicki Kessler, a prayer warrior in my life. We’ll meet inRL for the first time next month.

I’m joining the conversation she started  around an international table, sharing about a special dinner in the home of my Rwandan friend. Grab a piece of cake and pull up a chair at the table. I’d love to celebrate with you.

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