365 Perspectives - Day 2

I thought this would be easy but the truth is that even when your not doing anything, you're still doing a lot. The hard thing is picking out the one photo of each day that you want to remember.

This is one of the ones I chose to document Jan 2, 2011. Cleaning up the Christmas decorations always leaves me feeling both a little sad and at the same time relieved. Sad because the decor makes the house look pretty and relieved because after wards everything looks so nice and clean.

This is the one I did not choose. This is Sisi. She was not happy with me because I filed her nails back. I chuckled when I saw this one because she looks like she is razzing me.

This is the one I chose to remember January 1st - some of the fun and games we played...actually they played and I watched.

I am not sure what this next year will hold but I will be documenting it all along the way! Last year was a tough year for a variety of reasons. I am hoping for a new perspective seen through the lens of my camera. Happy New Year y'all!

Terri
Jan 2, 2011

Mirror, Mirror!

 I remember reading the fairy tale "Snow White" when I was around eight or nine. As I read the story, the words "Mirror, mirror on the wall, who is the fairest of them all?" became a chant that was a part of my play time for years to come. Whether Barbies or dress up, my friends and I would prance in front of a mirror and giggle as we recited it.

As I got older, the mirrors grew up too. They became my classmates around me who I would check with often to make sure I was "cool" enough. The mirrors became the boys I dated to make sure they thought I was pretty enough. They became the bosses at my jobs to measure if I was good enough. They became the magazine models to make sure I was skinny enough. The teachers to tell me if I was smart enough.

As an artist, I used mirrors all the time to check drawings, especially portraits. I would begin a sketch, get it roughed out and then hold it up to the mirror. Amazingly enough, it would show me where my proportions were off and I would then be able to correct it. I know the value of using a mirror to readjust and correct. The problem is I have been looking in the wrong mirrors.

 I woke up the other morning with this verse on my mind:

²²Do not merely listen to the word, and so deceive yourselves. Do what it says. ²³Anyone who listens to the word but does not do what it says is like a man who looks at his face in a mirror ²⁴and, after looking at himself, goes away and immediately forgets what he looks like. ²⁵But the man who looks intently into the perfect law that gives freedom, and continues to do this, not forgetting what he has heard, but doing it—he will be blessed in what he does. James 1:22-25

I meditated on it yesterday and woke this morning with revelation. I have been looking in the wrong mirrors to make corrections in my life. I have been looking to:

My husband -  who is a very good man but not a good mirror to judge who I am.

My children - also awesome people who God loves very much, but they make a  horrible mirror.

My job - thankful for the resources and income it provides but it does not define me.

The list goes on and on. It could include any ministry I am a part of, friends in my life, accomplishments. Do you see, the list truly does go on and on. I have used all of these things to look into and get a glimpse of who I thought I was. The problem is, they are bad mirrors that are broken and in need of correction and fixing.

Let's look at that solution verse in Jame 1:25, but this time using The Message Bible.

. ²⁵But whoever catches a glimpse of the revealed counsel of God—the free life!—even out of the corner of his eye, and sticks with it, is no distracted scatterbrain but a man or woman of action. That person will find delight and affirmation in the action. James 1:25

 Only the Word of God can tell me in TRUTH who I am in Christ. Other things may give me momentary glimpses that are fact, but they are based upon the needs of the person I am looking at or my own emotional responses to their needs. Only the Word of God that is submitted to and activated by walking it out will be a true reflection of who I am.

So, who am I in Christ? I am chosen, loved, redeemed by the Blood. I am forgiven and a co-heir. I am a daughter of the Most High God. I am so much more than what I have been looking at and seeing through the eyes and hearts of others.

Here is the bottom line - I have old habits in my life that need validation to say "I'm Okay" or "I am right." Through revelation, I now know which mirror to look in and someday I will reflect and show the love of God who is even now filling me.

Praise Be to God from Whom ALL blessings come!

A long way off

I was reading in Luke 15:11-32 this morning and something really made me read this passage several times. You know the story, the Prodigal Son. Son wants what's his, asks his dad for an early inheritance, squanders it, nearly starves and then wakes up with the realization of what his bad decisions have done and goes home.

I know the story, we all do; but it was this one little bit in the midst of this story:  "But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him.(Luke 11:20b)

Did you see it? Did you get it? The son did not have to do anything for the father to be filled with compassion and run to him, the son. The son had not even yet opened his mouth to say, "I'm sorry, dad. I was wrong."

I know that I often put all of the pressure on me and hope for a "right" response from God. From this passage, all He wants is to see me come around the corner towards Him and He will meet me not just halfway, but all the way.

Turning around....again.

First Days

As the weekend before the first day of school looms large, I sigh. It has been many years since our last child graduated from school and moved into the workforce. This year, even though we do not have any kids to shop for any more, I could not resist the urge to buy and put away some supplies for "just in case".

I remember with a heart smile each of my kids first day of kindergarten, of junior high, of high school and then of college. I remember the day before and after my first child said "I do" to their wonderful wife. I now am adding the memory of my first grandchild getting ready to go to her own first day of school.

I am completely in awe of the ways God wove His way in our lives. There have been good times and heart aches. Memorable moments and regrets. There have been the times that still bring laughter quickly to our lips and times that we hope will eventually fade away.

No matter what, however, all is with a grateful heart.

At this stage in life there are not any "do overs" but there is a sense of being connected into something bigger than what one person can comprehend.

So, no matter where you are in the process, don't rush through the hectic schedules that you are and will be encountering. Say yes to the pony folder or the Spiderman pencil. That tshirt with the funny saying is okay. Sign up for PTO even though you don't know how you will fit one more thing in your schedule. Agree to volunteer with the band boosters or athletic boosters. Make sure your camera has new batteries and an empty memory (or film if you still use it).

This is a first day - for you and your child. Hold it close. Cherish it. You will need it in the future.

Things On the Left and the Right

Okay, an exercise. Whether in futility or not is yet to be seen - maybe a scrapbook page, maybe just something to read for later. Who knows?

Things I like:

• Walks on the beach in the fall or at midnight (empty beach/cool weather)
• baby yawns and baby feet
• smell of baby powder
• smell of baking bread
• thunderstorms
• holding my husband's hand
• smell of a clean house
• cuddling a puppy
• sound of the waves hitting rocks
• color of waves on the Pacific Coast near Big Sur
• view of the ocean from Hwy 1
• Watching the sunset over a body of water
• tulips
• getting a bouquet of tulips
• watching tulips grow and bloom
• walking in the snow
• reading a good book during a rain storm
• laughing with friends
• singing in church
• making up a song and singing it into the wind
• watching a baby sleep and seeing them smile
• hearing the voice of one of my granddaughters say my name
• riding roller coasters - especially smooth ones that take your breath away
• cooking for friends
• surprising someone with something they wanted and getting to see their face
• looking down into Yosemite Vally and being totally in awe of God's creation.

Things I don't like:

• sub woofers in a car 3 cars behind me
• sad endings in movies or books
• small talk
• liver
• cauliflower
• being ignored
• being yelled at
• being a passenger in a fast car
• washing dishes
• crying
• feeling powerless

Fishing

I remember fishing as a kid. My brother and I would go get our bait - either worms from the garden, minnows from the pond, grasshoppers from the field, or cheese from mom's fridge. We would get our rods and reels ready, make sure our little tackle boxes were ready to go, pack a snack and a jar of water, and walk across the field to the pond behind our house we lived in. I was in second grade and my brother was in first.

The getting ready was only half the fun. Laying the line out just perfect in the middle of the pond and hope that the last storm had not moved the underwater log. The leisure of sitting in the shade on the side of a pond just waiting for a fish to take an interest in my hook. Watching every bob of the bobber, playing the line ever so carefully to invite nibbles that lead to bites, patiently waiting for the pull of a "bite" that you could feel with your hand on the line. Jerking back your rod to sink the hook and then the "fight" of pulling in a fish that you knew would be dinner tonight. Nodding my head at my brother - the competition now on to see who could bag the most and get the honor of bragging rights for the best that day.

Then, after several fish are on the line, snack time. If the wild plums or grapes were ripe  - on the walk to the pond we would pick some to go with the bologna sandwich in the bag. Some swallows of water and it was back to fishing. Need to wash our hands...no worries: the back of our pants was sure to have a clean spot.

I look at my life now and long for the simplicity and innocence of that time. No place to be in a hurry, no prize in sight, patience a virtue, and needs were simple. Fears of germs non-existent, concern about sweat and grime not a problem, competition was honest and for a good cause.

I know the whole story behind that glimpse of the past. The fish were a Need - they truly were supper. My brother and I both had fears, they just were not at the pond or in any of the fields we hiked through. Home was filled with hurry and heart aches - the shade of the trees were a refuge from more than just the sun. We were two little ones who played a part in a much bigger drama that consumed our lives.

I look back now to get a glimpse of how did I deal with the pressure of that time? How did I have the patience to wait for the next fish? What can I learn now to deal with my hurried world that I live in today.

Maybe, it's time to go fishing again.

Walking Looking Up

As a kid, I used to love playing neighborhood hide-and-seek right before night fall. We would define where we could hide and what was out of limits and then 15-20 of us neighborhood kids would take off running to find the perfect spot. My favorite place to hide was way up in a butterfly bush, except of course in the summer when it was full of bees and not butterflies. From that vantage spot, I could watch everyone scurrying around as whoever was "It" would search in each bush and behind fences. I very seldom was "It" - I usually was not found.

Here lately, I feel like I have been tagged and am now "It". So many things have been brushing around the periphery of my life and I feel like the kids I watched from my vantage point - trying to catch the next "It" but brushing instead the air where they just were.

As many of my close friends know, I have been having some health challenges. For years, I have been having stomach problems and have worried over some symptoms - namely, bleeding. At Easter, I had a very bad "bunch" of symptoms that left me exhausted and mentally and emotionally reeling. Went to go see the Dr. and that brings us to here. Testing has begun to check and see what is going on. Old fears come creeping back in and are faced with every test.

Lately, I have not had any symptoms. Occasional rumbly tummy, but not any bleeding. I caught on to that and held the evidence of the lack of one symptom as proof of God's healing. The edges of fear would sometimes creep in, but as long as I "hid" from any questions or concerns, they were held at bay. Last night, I started bleeding again. I could feel faith starting to crumble as I faced fear once again.

This morning in church as I stood praising God, I came face to face with Him. My heart was achy. Beyond all else, I sang knowing this - He is good no matter what. An alter call to the front for healing and restoration came forth and I was out of my seat. The prayer was simply, "restore Terri, heal her mind so that she can hear from You."

As I went back to my seat, tears streaming down my cheeks, I once again raised my hands to God and thanked Him. As I stood, the memory of blood on white paper tore at my heart and I felt me moving away from the peace I had just held.

Then I remembered the story of the Israelite army facing an army bigger than what they could even survive and the admonition from God's prophet, Elisha - "Don't be afraid," the prophet answered. "Those who are with us are more than those who are with them." (2 Kings 6:16). The words, "do not walk by sight but by faith" resonated in my spirit. There is more going on than what I can see and I should not rely on my senses to discern God's work.

I was willing to let the evidence of one thing undermine what God is doing in my life. It is hard to walk by Faith. I am so used to living a "seeing is believing" lifestyle that it is hard to fathom anything else. I want to see the army of God camped around me, to see Jesus in the empty tomb, to hear God's whisper in the midst of the storm. The world we live in wants to tear at the fabric of faith and do something about it in our strength. That is not my calling.

This I know, God is good. Whether I have cancer (there, I said it), or some other ailment, God is good. He loves me. I know that worrying about results and test will not make me better faster or even ever. Saying, "me do it", will not make anything happen. My heavenly Father stands with open arms and says, "give it to me, keep your eyes on me, think on me and nothing else." Walk by Faith, not by sight.