When green is not so becoming

I follow several blogs. If you're interested in them you can scroll down this page and peruse them to your heart's content.

I am loving reading these and am learning a lot, but I must admit, these blogs have one big flaw.

The writers are WAY too talented. 

Okay, yes, it's true, I admit it.  I have fallen prey to the green-eyed monster.  I look at the obvious talent and anointing of these bloggers and I think to myself, "I wish I'd thought of that!  If only I had an abundance of writing ideas like she does, or her eloquence, or tenacity, or wisdom, or sense of humor, or heck, just her sense!"  

Hello, my name is Debbie, and I'm an envy-aholic.  Well, okay,  maybe not quite that bad, but there are times. 

Jealousy for me doesn't manifest itself in a "mean girl," out-to-getcha kind of way.  I turn inward, berating myself for a lack of discipline, agonizing over my failure to be motivated,  counting off any number of other real or imagined faults, and finally succumb to my defeatist thought patterns.  

Yeah, I know.  None of that is really helpful.  Or from God.  As soon as I start comparing my measure of talent with another's seemingly greater measure it cracks open a door for The Enemy.  And of course, he takes full advantage.  The Devil doesn't make me do it, but he never misses an opportunity to take the ball and run with it.

***  ***  ***  ***   ***

It's now 30 minutes later.  I've worked for 2 minutes on a speech, gotten Nathan up from his nap, folded and put away a load of laundry, and nearly finished eating my second package of Finding Nemo fruit snacks.  Avoidance takes many forms.

It was clear to me early this morning that I was to post today, but I had no idea it would be on this topic.  I also had no idea it would be such a personal struggle.  

God is trying to tell me something.  Somewhere inside me, I don't want to hear it.  He wants to go deeper into my heart in this area than I've let Him go before.  I'm afraid to feel that pain, even though I know He wants to heal it.  I have to walk through it to get to the other side.  And yet I am resistant to the freedom.  Of course, The Enemy doesn't want me any closer to God, so he wants to run with the ball again.  But this time I'm not going to throw it to him.

As I was folding the towels, wondering at the source of my resistance, a phrase came to my mind:  "Five Loaves and Two Fish."  This is a concept I'm familiar with and that I have posted on before, but not quite in this way.  I immediately knew what He was saying, but I needed to write it to clarify it in my own mind.

The story of the feeding of the five thousand appears in all four gospels, but only in John does it mention that the loaves and fish belonged to a poor young boy.  He brought what he had to eat that day--five loaves and two fish--and gave it to Jesus.

 

Obviously he didn't think what I would have, "My little lunch is too small and insignificant to make much difference."  He knew it wouldn't be enough to feed all of the people.  He didn't worry that other boys might have had bigger lunches.  He simply offered what he had to God to do as He saw fit.  And it was enough.  More than enough.

What if he had left the house that morning with six loaves and three fish?  Would that have been a significantly larger gift in the grand scheme of the miracle to come?   Even if he'd brought an entire banquet, in reality, it wouldn't have made but miniscule difference.  The miracle wasn't in the gift itself. 

And we all know the rest of the story.

So the message to me today, the loving insight that speaks healing to places in my heart that have been quietly festering for decades, is this:  It's not the size of the gift--the amount of talent--that matters, it's what God can do with it.  He isn't limited by size.  In fact, many times He prefers to do great works with things "as small as a mustard seed."  But first I have to offer my measure of talent to Him.  

My purpose is not to be "better," "worse" or "as good as" anyone else.  My purpose is to listen and obey and do the best I can. 

To that end, I offer this blog and all the posts as gifts to God to use and multiply when, if and how He sees fit.  I'm excited to see Him in action.  And I'm looking forward to following all my favorite blogs with a renewed sense of wonder and gratitude for any measure I've been given.

No-Repeat Week

YES!  It's finally Monday!

No I'm not insane, especially as this weekend was the time change to Daylight Savings and we all seem to be feeling the effects.  Last week was a week I do not care to repeat.

Last Sunday, Clinton left for 2 days to attend the ACMI meeting in Indianapolis.  I usually try to go with him and leave the boys with my in-laws, but with it being 2 overnights we thought that would be too much for Nathan right now.  It was a good thing I didn't go.  Or, I should say, a GOD-THING I didn't go.

We've known for a few months that my father-in-law, Terry, needed open-heart surgery.  The medical staff had said would probably be scheduled for later in March, a week or two away at least.  Monday afternoon my mother-in-law, Carolyn, called me.  They wanted him to come Wednesday.  As in two days away.  Tuesday would be spent in prep with surgery first thing Wednesday morning.  She was in a near total panic trying to make arrangements, phone calls, etc.  Good thing she didn't have my boys through Tuesday as we'd planned or they wouldn't have been able to do it.  GOD-THING! 

Clinton's sister, Amy, who lives in Dallas, travels a lot with her job. As it turned out, she was in Indianapolis for a meeting that got out at 3:00 on Tuesday.  Clinton's meeting got out at noon.  He was able to pick her up from the meeting and drive her back with him.  What are the chances of that?  Not a coincidence.  A God-incidence.  GOD-THING!

Clinton and Amy arrived home shortly before 6:00.  I pulled in to Terry and Carolyn's driveway a little after 6:00 with pizza for everyone.  Rachel, the youngest sister who lives in St Louis, pulled into the driveway as I was unloading the pizza.  GOD-THING!  We were all able to spend a wonderful evening together before Dad's surgery on Wednesday.  GOD-THING!

There is a special Legg family story involving the Fruit of the Spirit that I won't share with you now, but guess what verse was part of my devotional on Wednesday morning?  You guessed it!  You're so smart!  Galatians 5:22, "But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control."  Coincidence?  I think not!  A small reassurance that He had it all under control.  GOD-THING!

While the rest of the family was at the hospital, my job was to keep the home front running as normal as possible for Matthew and Nathan and be the point of contact to disseminate information as it became available.  I'm fairly good at talking, so this was no stretch for me.

Dad's surgery was delayed a couple of times on Wednesday.   Before leaving for Wednesday Night Family Night at church I got an update, which I was able to share with our church family -- still in surgery, going well, likely a few more hours.  After the meal as Craig, our Senior Minister, was praying, my cell phone rang.  Surgery was finished and he came through it very well!  I'm sure it was rather hilarious to watch me bent over, to try to get underneath the table to corral a loud, playful Nathan, talking as quietly as possible on my cell while everyone else was solemnly lifting prayers to The Lord.  But, as Craig finished, I was able to stand up, wave my hands around and announce the wonderful news.  Could the timing have worked out that way by chance?  No way!  GOD-THING!

Oh, and some dear friends, Gary and Mary, had a new grandson on Wednesday, so we were able to rejoice and relay that happy information as well.  Great news on a very stressful day.  GOD-THING! 

Wednesday night I collapsed into bed, missing my husband and emotionally exhausted.  My cell phone battery was also collapsing, so I plugged it in to recharge.  Little did I know what Thursday would hold.

Our dear friend Beth's dear mother, Earline, had had a procedure done on Tuesday that was apparently, um, how can I say this delicately, SCREWED UP!  She went in Thursday afternoon for emergency surgery that successfully fixed the main problem.  Hurray!  However, as a consequence of the initial screw up, she developed kidney failure, a bad infection and other complications that now have her on a ventilator.  We are praying for her and the entire family, and are grateful for cell phones, email and Facebook to keep us up to date with the latest.  

All of the house phones needed to be charged by the end of Thursday.

Friday and Saturday included much more relaying of info, keeping life as normal as possible, and picking up any pieces that needed to be picked up.  

Sunday afternoon (yesterday) Terry got to come home and we were all thrilled.  Unfortunately, Earline is still in the hospital and not getting any better yet.  Info continues to be relayed, prayers continue to be lifted, and phones continue to recharge.

We are all still a bit wrung out, but I'm sure we're not nearly as bad as Earline and her family.  But I do know (and Beth, Earline and the family know as well) that God is there with them and will see them through.  My biggest prayer right now is that a week from today, Earline will be miraculously improved and we will have many more God-things to share.

Puttin' My Hand in The Hand

 For the past, I don't know, 6 months or so, Psalm 37:23&24 has been a theme in my life:

 A man's steps are established by the Lord,

 and He delights in his way.

Even though he falls, he will not be overwhelmed,

 because the Lord holds his hand.

  

As the mother of a toddler, I totally identify.

No matter where we go, if we're walking, Nathan is right there beside me, or at least in very close proximity.  When we begin to cross the parking lot or walk where the ground is uneven, I grab his hand.  That way even if he does trip, he may get a skinned knee, but he's not going all the way down.  No bloody noses or bruised foreheads.  No teeth knocked out.  No major damage.  If he starts to pull away, I can (gently) yank him back.  It's also a chance to rub my fingers over his sweet baby hand or give a little squeeze to convey how much I love him.

Same with God and me.  He's got my hand.  He watches out for me, keeping me from tripping over rocky relationships.  He yanks me back when I strain ahead towards danger I can't see.   I may get my foot wet from stepping in the pothole, but I won't be sprawled out on the concrete.  And I can give His hand a little squeeze just as He can squeeze mine.  The mental picture I have of Him guiding me, protecting me and loving me never fails to bring a smile to my face and a thrill to my heart.

That is, unless I let go.  If I'm determined to wriggle "free," He'll let me.  If I sneer at Him and say, "I do it myself!" then He'll oblige.

On my own can be a very scary place.

I think I'll hang on.  

How about you?