Little Girl Lost

Today, I received a very sad email. Compassion International wrote to tell me that my sponsored child in Ecuador is no longer in the program. They were able to tell me that she is healthy and had completed the fifth grade. For some unknown reason, her parents decided not to send her anymore.

I ran into Karrie the other day. She is the friend I made at She Speaks that was traveling to Ecuador earlier this month. She carried a gift laden backpack for me and handed it off to the Compassion worker. I don't know that I anticipated Delia having received it yet. It would have had to make its way to the student center that she went to.

I called Compassion when I got off work to see if I could glean anymore info. The representative I spoke to said that there really wasn't much more. The parents don't have to give a reason. It could be that she was needed at home or it could be pressure from the community. Compassion is an evangelical organization. In a very Catholic country, they can be looked on askew. So, there was no more information to be had.

I did ask about the backpack. There's no way to know where it is at this moment. He said that the staff would likely still try to get it to her. I hope that they do. The things I picked out were with her in mind.

But, if not, they will use the things for other children at the center. As I thought about that today, I realized that while I had Delia in mind, God may have had several others in mind. The pack had a t-shirt, three stuffed animals, a book, a couple bracelets, binoculars, hair things, a scarf, . . . . The items could bless a number of children.

Though, there is one item in particular that I hope makes it to Delia. There was a locket with my picture pasted inside. I wanted her to wear it as a tangible reminder of my love and prayers for her.

Either way, I know that God will use those gifts. But, I am highly relational. So, I am sad tonight for this one little girl who is lost to me. But I can still pray for her and her grim, determined pose that God would hold her close and one day introduce her to me in heaven -- lost to me for a time but hopefully, prayerfully found in Him.

It's Beginning to Look A Lot Like Christmas

My warm, sun loving body is cringing at this moment. A coworker announced yesterday that Hobby Lobby has their Christmas stuff out. Another confirmed that JCPenny is putting out their fall stuff -- cold weather stuff.

Please, it is only July 31st. Can't we put off the thoughts of cold weather a bit longer? I know I live in central Illinois and it will come sooner rather than later, but it's July.

I remember when the Christmas season didn't come until the day after Thanksgiving. I'm not ready for cold weather. I'm not ready for the hustle and bustle of the season. I'm not ready for the flowers to go away or the snow to come. (Though, if you want to know, I think a snow blower would be at the top of my Christmas wish list. But, I haven't made that. Yet, I think it would be up there.) I'm just not ready for it all.

But it did remind me of a church musical I was in while in sixth grade. It was called, Christmas in July. The point was that Jesus needs to be celebrated all year round.

So, I may not be ready for all the trimmings, but it raises a good question. Am I ready for Jesus on a daily basis? His message, His presence, His power should not be constrained to December 25th. I should stand in awe that He would chose to come at all to this earth every day of the year -- including July 31st!

Breaking the Surface

I remember laughing as I went down the slide. It emptied into a shallow pool half way down and then you got on another slide and went the rest of the way. At the first pool, I let myself go totally under. And then it happened. I somehow got disoriented and could not find my way up. I remember running my hand over the blue bottom. Or maybe it was the blue wall. Whatever it was, it did not help. My heart pounded and I had the fleeting thought that I was going to drown in that shallow pool because I could not get my feet under me. I could not break the water's surface.

I don't remember how I managed to find my way up. But I came up coughing and sputtering. The guard asked me if I was okay and told me that he was starting to worry.

I feel a bit like that emotionally. It has been a hard month as a result of a medication change and some family conflict. (My doctor warned me that tapering off the med might be like major PMS. And it has taken over a month!) Largely it has manifested itself in forgetfulness and difficulty processing with some tears thrown in.

I feel like I've been riding down that slide all month. Last Thursday night I hit that shallow pool and I've struggled to break the surface of all the emotions. Friday I was weepy but I pulled it together. The emotions pulled at me on Saturday. Sunday I burst into tears after a meeting before service and fled because I just needed to be home. Add to all that emotion a series of headaches and a off-and-on scratchy throat. Doesn't that all sound like fun?

I've struggled enough that I haven't even updated here like I usually do. So, I'm asking that you pray that I break the surface of that emotional pool soon. Meanwhile, I need to rest in the fact that THE LIFE GUARD is looking out for me and will help me find my bearings.

Following Up And Is She Runs on the Horizon?

So, this is my official follow-up to my post about my interaction with my ex-roommate last Friday. If you don't have the foggiest what I am talking about, just click here. I just called her at work because that's the only way I knew for sure she would answer. I asked her if she could have dinner tonight. (I know last minute.) She said she couldn't but next week would work. We settled on Wed. but need to firm up the plans later.

So, will all of you pray? Seriously, I felt incredibly awkward just in asking. And now I feel tearful. I know it is because it ended so poorly. Yes, it is a slow obedience on my part. I probably should have listened to God last week, but I didn't. All the nerves might be over with if I had! If you will pray, please leave your name. It would be a great encouragement to me. I'd love to have 10 people praying for whatever God might do?



PS. As Joy noted on my last post, I went from cookies to pie. I looked back and it was worse. I went from pie to cookies to pie in 3 consecutive posts. Can you tell what is on my mind while people like Lysa, Renee, Melissa, and Holly are all exercising? Heaven help me, they are bold enough to post exercise pictures and commit to things like half marathons. Oh, my, you don't suppose they'll add a track to She Speaks and call it She Runs? But I suppose after worship Sat. night Lysa could lead everyone in aerobics . . . .

I suppose the only "good" part is that I only had pie on the first occasion (note that I ordered a half slice). When I made Mark's pie last night, I only ate the 5 sugar, cinnamon coated slices that I just couldn't make fit in the pie crust. Really. I dropped the pie off this afternoon without cutting a slice out to test it. (Oh, dear. I do hope it is edible! Wink.)

Apple Pie Time

I don't particularly like going to the grocery store. Okay, I hate it. But a friend is having a birthday tomorrow, so I wanted to make a pie. His favorite just happens to be my favorite -- apple. While I don't make the crusts, I do use real apples for the filling. Hmm.

I ran to the store and then puttered around the house a bit. Then I got into my comfy clothes and set to peeling those apples. I was dismayed to find the the first one quite brown in the middle. Yuck. I tried a second. It was equally disturbing. Well, since I wasn't going to make my friend a pie with bad apples, I got dressed and went back to the store.

They were fine with giving me my money back, but they didn't seem overly concerned. My thought was that if there were two like that there might be more.

So, I hopped to another store and found the apples and hightailed it home. Now the filling has been made, the crust is browning, and I get to smell that yummy cinnamon and apple smell.

I mentioned to someone today that I was making this pie. She said something about me liking to bake. I don't mind baking, but it really isn't one of my favorite activities. It is the giving of the things I bake that I get pleasure from.

I guess I get it from my mother. She was always baking and we were always taking the teachers treats. I take treats to work on occasion. I've taken them to my doctor's office out of appreciation. My counselor's office really rates as they sometimes get to pick the time before what they want me to bring.

To me, it is a sign of caring that I take the time to bake for these folks. That probably comes into play because I think it is one of the ways I felt cared for by my mom. The brownie fairy would just happen to come while we were playing in the basement. My mom would make elaborate birthday cakes when we were younger. She had a book that told how to cut them to make different shapes. One year I chose the log cabin. It stood up and everything. And as we got older she made us each our own pie (not that they weren't to share) but the holes in the crust were made into our initials.

Do, I like baking? It's okay. What I like is doing something for someone that says, "I did this just for you, I value you."

So, Happy Birthday Mark. (You can leave him a message on his blog if you want.) Thanks for daring to start Crosswinds. I am thankful for you as a pastor but even more so as a friend.

When You Give Someone a Cookie

The other night I was reading Lisa Whittle's post. She always makes me think. It was about how one of her dear friends didn't like her initially. Ouch. But this woman decided to pray for her. Now, she is one of those friends that Lisa can call any time.

I had taped a show Friday night called Flashpoint. It's a new cop type show. Given that everything else is reruns, I decided to tape it. I finally got around to watching it. Here's the storyline. A man gets the page letting him know that he should rush his daughter to the hospital for a heart transplant. They get there and settled in only to find out that there was a mix up and the heart is going to someone else. The dad has been up for three days straight in a vigil over his dying daughter. The stress breaks him. He grabs a security guy's gun and takes hostages.

Of course, that is when they call in the team. I haven't watched it enough to know the names of everyone yet. But "Head Guy" goes in to negotiate with him. Others are watching him on the monitor. The dad wants the TV turned back on for his daughter. Rule #1, never give a hostage taker anything without getting something in return. So, Head Guy asks dad to ask each person if they are okay. He does this but skips the man on gurney who is slated to get the heart. Head Guy says, "What about him? Is he okay?" He encourages dad to ask him.

The rest of the team who are watching debrief this for us. It turns out that one of the tactics is to make the hostage into a person. By having dad ask the hostage if he is okay, the hostage begins to become a person rather than a means to an end.

Lisa's post fit right in with this. It made me think of work. One woman works in another office. One day when I was still very new, she came in the back door, walked to my desk, and demanded that I look something up for her. I was in the process of leaving and I was use to people going to the counter. I got really flustered and was offended by her tone. I managed to find what she needed but decided that I didn't like her at all. After she left, they explained who she was and all, but it didn't help me liking her.

A couple months ago I made my famous chocolate chip cookies. (I'm probably overly proud of them.) I took some to the office. As I was taking a short break, God prompted me to put three on a little plate and take them down to this woman. From that time forward, every time I walk by she waves. If she comes into the office, she stops to talk to me. When you give someone a cookie or a prayer or a smile, sometimes you forge a connection because you have made them human.

I've probably used this C.S. Lewis quote before, but I think it sums things up so nicely that I'll use it again.

It is a serious thing to remember that the dullest and most uninteresting person you talk to may one day be a creature which, if you saw it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship or else a horror and a corruption such as you meet, if at all, only in a nightmare. All day long, we are, in some degree, helping each other to one or the other of these destinations. It is in the light of those overwhelming possibilities, it is with the awe and the circumspection proper to them, that we should conduct all our dealing with one another, all friendships, all loves, all play, all politics. There are no ordinary people.

When we remember another's humanness, we treat them with more humanity. When we remember that they may have things going on in their lives that we know nothing about, we can respond with mercy and kindness. When we treat them with respect even when we might not feel respected, we give them dignity. When we offer kindness, we never know what doors God will open up.

Trading Shakespeare for Pie

Last Thursday my friend Jill called and asked what I was doing: watering the flowers. She said she had just won tickets to the Shakespeare Festival in town. She wanted to know if I wanted to go with her. Sure! The tickets are usually $40 a piece and I was just going to watch summer reruns.

They run three shows at a mansion in town. Each night is a different show. The night we went they were running Titus Andronicus. Neither of us knew a thing about it. We probably should have googled it. While I don't like horror films, I do enjoy some of the more intense shows like CSI or Criminal Minds. But neither of us were prepared for the intensity of this show. I just looked it up on Wikepidia. It said that it was, by far, Shakespeare's bloodiest work and probably lost favor in the Victorian era because of it's gore. If you haven't seen it, it is largely about revenge.

Intermission rolls around and we chatted about how "new" we think all the problems are but this is evidence that some of the same problems we face today were faced in the 1500's and probably before. I wasn't having trouble following it, but I was surprised by how much all the violence was impacting me. Sensing Jill was feeling a bit of the same, I said, "So do you want to leave?"

We abandoned $40 a piece free seats and went for pie instead. It was much less intense and we had a good time catching up.

It may be Shakespeare and the acting may be outstanding, but it doesn't mean it's all good. Even the classics may need to be screened!

The up part was that we got together. Normally, we both would have stayed home and tended to things around the house. The lure of those tickets got us together. Intermission gave us a way out. Pie gave us some fellowship.

Yes, William, you wrote some masterpieces. I'm not sure what it says about our level of culture, but I think I'll take pie with a friend any day.