10 Things I Learned This Spring

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1. Sometimes we skip spring. There was a winter storm on April 18 followed by several days of unseasonably cool temps. Then there was maybe a week of legitimate spring weather followed by a stretch of 90 degree days. Winter moved right into summer, it seems.

2. The Lenten journey was especially meaningful for me this year. Ash Wednesday collided with Valentine’s Day. Holy Week collided with Spring Break. Easter Sunday collided with April Fool’s Day. All that colliding made me feel the force of impact. I wrote in my journal, “This is Holy Week and I must stay with You, Jesus. Watch with You. See what my sin has done to You. Weep. I feel sorry for those who skip Lent and drop in on Easter Sunday. I want to come to Resurrection Day exhausted, and beside myself with relief. I want to see You through tears of woeful grief that turn into tears of wild joy. I want to stand in the shadow of Your death until there is no more death, but only life coming from the tomb.”

3. Every season needs its own soundtrack. This spring I stumbled onto Andrew Peterson’s CD “Resurrection Letters, Vol. 1”. The song “Is He Worthy?” gives me goosebumps. Every. Single. Time. Why have I never heard of this guy before? Not only is he a prolific and creative musician, he has also written a series of fantasy/adventure books and runs an online community fostering “spiritual formation through music, story and art”. Be still my beating heart.

4. Back when the temps were still in the 30’s and the ground was still too hard to dig in and baseball games hadn’t started yet, I did the most spring-y thing I could think of: I cleaned a closet. That undeniable desire to spring-clean starts rising up in me as winter winds down. It all began with a drawer in the kitchen, continued with the bathroom cupboard and then I tackled the messiest closet in the house.

5. If Andrew Peterson provided the soundtrack to my spring, then John Eldredge supplied the words in his book, “Beautiful Outlaw: A Dangerous Book About a Scandalous Savior”. The way he wrapped up his book, wrapped right back around to our “Abide With Me” theme for Lent. “Jesus has no intention of letting you become whole apart from his moment-to-moment presence and life within you. You are still a branch in desperate need of a Vine.”

6. Noah was on the Ark for 370 days. So many new things came to light in our Women’s Bible study on Noah. The Sunday school version leaves out a whole bunch. One of the people I am most looking forward to talking to in heaven is Mrs. Noah. The Biblical account focuses on Mr. Noah, but you and I both know who was doing most of the work on that boat.

7. Opening Day of baseball season should be a national holiday. PB and I went to the Brewer’s home opener in April and loved everything about it — except the final score. One of the reasons I love baseball season is because I get texts like this from my son at 1:29 a.m.: “Please tell me you saw that 9th inning go down.”

8. Working with a team is way better than working solo on something as big as VBS. My heart was singing praises as twenty people gathered around the table and divvied up all the responsibilities involved in pulling off Vacation Bible School. It’s so much more fun this way. And PB doesn’t have to make all my visions become reality single-handedly. He also doesn’t have to deal with a cranky, stressed-out wife. Blessings all around!

9. My enchantment with the Enneagram personality profile was heightened when I discovered Ryan O’Neal’s songs for each of the nine Enneagram types. His work is depth and artistry at its best. If this doesn’t make you tear up, then you’re not a type 1:
“Now I have learned my lesson;
The price of this so-called perfection is everything.
I’ve spent my whole life searching desperately
To find out grace requires nothing of me.”

10. The biggest and best news of the spring was the unexpected arrival of our 9th grandchild. She was twelve weeks early and just over 2 pounds. As May comes to a close, she has joined the 4 pound club! Once she gets the breathing-sucking-swallowing thing down, she will get to move out of NICU. For now, we are so thankful for nurses and doctors who know just what to do to keep a miniature human’s heart beating and lungs breathing. Ember Blake, welcome to the world. You have already changed it for the better.

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My Three Moms

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I used to dread Mother’s Day.

While most girls my age were making cards and picking flowers to give to their moms, I was visiting a cemetery. I only had a mom for thirteen years and then, she was gone. For the next ten years, Mother’s Day only reminded me of what I had lost.

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Becoming a mother at age 23 provided welcome relief when May rolled around. I could focus on the wonder and joy of having a sweet baby girl who called me “momma”. By the time my nest was full of boys and girls, time had brought some healing. I didn’t dread Mother’s Day anymore.

Watching my own girls enter the world of motherhood has been a dream come true. All four of my daughters are grace-filled, loving mothers. They are my new role models, my kindred spirits, my best friends. Mother’s Day is now a celebration of life.

Today, I salute three other women who stepped into the dual roles of sister and mother years ago on my behalf. Fortunately I wasn’t left to navigate grief, dating and growing up all alone. Although they were dealing with their own feelings of loss, I was grounded by the love and care of my sister and two sisters-in-law.

I spent hours at Peggy’s house. She always had a project going that interested me and served as a good distraction. Sewing, making jam, planting a garden. I could walk across the road and find an inviting household that comforted me and lightened my loneliness.

Robin eased the pressure I suddenly felt of cooking meals and doing household chores. She brought over Mom’s sweet rolls and Mom’s apple slices and Mom’s Christmas cookies. She took me on a girl’s weekend to shop and talk about boys. Her influence kept me on the right track.

Barbie helped me find joy. She had a way of injecting fun into the mundane and taught me how to belch. She also gave me a Living Bible with verses marked that she knew I would need. Her prayers lifted me up.

My sisters filled the gap.
I so am grateful for this trio of sisters/moms/friends.

Happy Mother’s Day!

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Two Beautiful Ladies

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Two beautiful ladies met today.

They are the bookends on either end of the family line.

Ninety years separate them.

Love fills in the space between matriarch and babe.

Great-Grandma peered in and marveled.

Ember wiggled and hiccuped.

Delightful.

It doesn’t matter that Ember is GiGi’s 21st great-grandchild.

It doesn’t matter that Ember slept through their first meeting.

They are two beautiful ladies.

Meet Ember Blake

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Introducing the newest twig on the family tree: Ember Blake!

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She was born on April 24, 2018 at 4:57 a.m.

She weighed in at 2 pounds 5 ounces.

This is what her sweet mamma wrote:

She was born 12 weeks early and came into this world kicking and screaming, surprising the heck out of medical staff, but not her parents.

Ember, may you continue to be fierce and hard to extinguish. May you believe in the fire that is within you and always rely on your creator to stoke and kindle that flame. May you always be a light in the darkness. ☀️  

“God is within her, she will not fall, God will help her at break of day” -Psalm 46:5

That verse.

“God is within her, she will not fall – Psalm 46” came up on my Instagram feed at 3:00 a.m. So I walked the hospital halls repeating that phrase, agreeing with the words, making them my prayer. Not long after that my daughter sent me a song that popped up as she opened her music app. “Psalm 46” by Shane and Shane. Such powerful words. At 4:30 a.m. the decision was made to have a c-section. I went into the waiting room and read the rest of Psalm 46:5 — “God will help her at break of day.”

As day broke, Ember offered the first praise from her tiny lips.
And we took her lead.
I have a feeling this spitfire of a girl will be leading us for years to come.

PB is pretty proud that she carries his name.
What an honor.

Ember Blake

Blessings on you, little Ember-girl.
Grow strong in the power of His might.
I can’t wait to tell you the story of your birth.

Smiling Father

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“All praise to God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. It is by his great mercy that we have been born again, because God raised Jesus Christ from the dead.” 1 Peter 1:3

You know, as I just read that verse, I realized that I have been giving Jesus all the credit for the resurrection. Somewhere along the line, I came to believe that Jesus raised Himself from the dead. Clearly, this needs correction. All praise goes to God the Father. It is by God the Father’s great mercy that this happened. It is by God the Father that I have new birth. And, (wake up and listen) God was the one raising Jesus from the dead. I’m sure Jesus deserves some praises as well, but this little detail changes the story for me.

The last I heard from God in the Passion saga was on Good Friday when the Father turned His back on the Son, who was hanging on the cross. I think that’s where I’ve left God in the story. I was a little miffed, a little incredulous that the whole salvation plan had to go that far. I’ve viewed Jesus as the Hero who did the thing. I never knew at what point God turned back around.

Suddenly, I see God the Father in the tomb, massaging His boy’s heart back to beating. I see Abba bending down, giving mouth to mouth, giving breath of life. God the Father was there, doing the work of raising His Son back up. Whoa.

When Jesus’ eyes fluttered open, was Father the first one He saw? Did they embrace? Jump around? Dance and sing? Certainly, God smiled. Surely, Jesus laughed. Up until now, I’ve envisioned only Jesus walking out of the tomb, but perhaps Father and Son strode out into that Sunday morning darkness arm in arm. Then maybe God said, “See you in 40 days. Have fun with Your guys. I’ve got a coronation to prepare for.” Wink. Twinkle. Pat on the back.

It’s all conjecture. I’m crossing the line from academic accuracy to imaginative deduction. Dangerous ground. Yet I believe in holy imagination. And holy correction. And holy inspiration. Holy, holy, holy.

Father God, I’m sorry I’ve held a little something against You. I was kind of disappointed. It appeared to me that You disappointed Your Son at His lowest moment. I suppose it had to be, but I left You there, with Your back to us all.  I was in error. I’m so glad to let this go. I’m thankful for this vision of You and Your Son walking out of the grave together, rejoicing. Thank You for doing the work of raising Jesus from the dead. You did it!

Laughing Jesus

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I read something that has really got me thinking.

I’m going to quote it so you can get to thinking too.

“What would you guess Jesus’ mood is this particular morning? (My note: after the resurrection.) Surely he must be happy. The man has conquered death, ransomed mankind, been restored to his Father, his friends, and the world he made. Forever. He is in the afterglow of the greatest triumph of the greatest battle in the history of the cosmos. I’m going to venture that he is one mighty happy man.” Beautiful Outlaw, by John Eldredge

Jesus? Happy? Perhaps laughing? At least, smiling? Or even chuckling with a twinkle in His eye? Could it be that He was bursting with joy?

Why do we have this picture of meek and mild Jesus, slowly rising from the dead, all serious and calm? Coming forth from the tomb with a slightly furrowed brow, solemn and subdued? Why do we have a hard time picturing Jesus as one mighty happy man?

Have a little fun.

Go back and read all the post-resurrection gospel accounts, but with one condition: listen for Jesus laughing.

Go ahead, do it.

Hear Him chuckle as He folds the cloth before leaving the tomb.
See the twinkle in His eye as He poofs into the disciples’ hiding place.
Watch Him grin as He eats a piece of fish before their eyes.
Hear Him roar with laughter as He watches Peter wildly splash toward breakfast on the beach.

It’s true!
Jesus is the happiest man alive.

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“I have told you this so so that my joy may be in you
and that your joy may be complete.”
John 15:11

The Borrower

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Jesus was buried in a borrowed tomb.
He had planned ahead for the entrance into Jerusalem.
He had pre-arranged details for the Last Supper.
He knew everything that was going to happen to Him.

But He hadn’t prepared for His burial,
so Christ was laid in a borrowed grave.

Borrowed. 

Borrow: to obtain or receive something on loan for temporary use, intending to give it back.

Jesus didn’t need a permanent grave.
He just needed to borrow one for a few days.
Joseph of Arimathea would get his tomb back because
Jesus had no intention of staying there for very long.
It would be a brief stopover.

When I die, tell everyone that I’m just borrowing that grave, because I’m going to be giving it back. On the day the angel shouts and the trumpet sounds, I’ll be among those rising up. Ain’t no grave gonna hold me down.

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“We know that God, who raised the Lord Jesus, will also raise us.”
2 Cor. 4:14
“Because I live, you also will live.”
John 14:19

“Ain’t No Grave” by David Crowder

Restless for Resurrection

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This time of year, I start getting antsy.

Come, Spring! Come, Easter! Come, Empty Grave!

This is Day 30 in the 40 days of Lent. Ten more to go.

Forty is one of God’s favorite numbers.
It pops up all over the Bible.

It makes me wonder…

What it was like on the Ark at Day 30?
Were the animals getting agitated?

What was it like for Jesus to fast for 30 days,
knowing there would be 10 more?

When Moses was up on the mountain receiving the Law,
did he wonder what was happening down below at Day 30?

Did Jesus count down the 40 days between resurrection
and ascension, anticipating going home?

In biblical times, the number forty was understood
as a period of testing that should not be rushed through,
but patiently endured.

As much as I’d like to fast-forward to the empty tomb,
there are lessons to be learned
in Gethsemane and at Golgotha.
Jesus didn’t rush His final days.
He followed the Father’s plan.
We should, too.

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The Next Ten Minutes

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What are you doing for the next ten minutes?

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I mean, the ten minutes after you read this short blog post.

The next ten minutes.
I’ve heard that phrase several times in the past few days.
Enough to know I’m supposed to be paying attention.

“Our spiritual formation simply happens within the next ten minutes. What would it look like to trust Jesus, or be patient, or be content, or choose connection with God for the next ten minutes?” Jan Johnson

“At what point in your day is there some sacred space? You’ve got to push back ten minutes. I’m not talking about 40 days of fasting and prayer. Just some space to allow your soul to experience God.” John Eldredge

“Ten minutes praying is better than a year’s murmuring.” Charles Spurgeon, on Twitter

“Will you share your life with me for the next ten minutes?” from The Last Five Years

“When I’m training, I tell myself to just go for the next ten minutes and then I’m free to stop if I want to. I never want to.” Kikkan Randall, gold medalist

See what I mean?

So, what are you doing for the next ten minutes?

“My times are in your hands.”
Psalm 31:15

What We Didn’t See

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When athletes step up on the podium and a gold medal is draped around their necks, I can’t help but wonder — what is behind that one moment of glory?

When I watch a competitor twist and turn in midair and land right side up, I pause and ask, “What didn’t I see that led up to this?”

All of the Olympians were inspirational, but the women’s pairs cross country skiing really grabbed me. This event is called “the most grueling sport in the winter games.” I watched Jessica Diggins and Kikkan Randall gut it out on the course and I thought, “That looks horrific. That looks painful. Why would anyone want to do that?” And then, “What did they have to do to get here?”

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Three thoughts:

#1
Kikkan Randall skied in her first Olympics in 2006 and came in 44th.
In 2010, she finished in the top 10.
Four years later she missed a medal by five one hundredths of a second.
She had a baby in 2016, but kept training.
As the only mom on the USA Olympic team this year, she won gold.

Back in 2006, she told her coaches and trainers she wanted a medal. They told her it would take 10 years of intense training. Ten years. Kikkan said, “I’m all in.”
It took twelve.

Would I stick to something that demanding for that long?

#2
Six days a week, twice a day, for twelve years, these are the things we didn’t see:

  • Core training — exercises from the pull-up bar. Oh, and with a 45 lb. weight chained to her waist. Ten reps of bringing her knees to her chest, 10 reps of bringing her toes to her hands, 10 reps of swinging her legs back and forth like a windshield wiper. Over and over. Add various squats with a weighted bar.
  • Endurance training — Roller skiing uphill for an hour.
  • Interval training — Ten minutes of roller skating at racing pace followed by three minutes at a slower pace. Repeat for two hours straight.
  • Speed training — Pushing the limits every day. “On a scale of 1-10, where 10 is dying or passing out, I rate a 9 fairly often.”
  • Strength training — Lifting weights for 1.5 hours.

She follows a very controlled diet and sleeps for 10 hours every night. Olympic athletes endure all that for one event, on one day, every four years.

Would I find that much dedication within me?

#3
Champions are made in the things we don’t see.
The daily workouts, the daily reps, the daily pull ups.

Life is built on the dailies.

Even for us average, unathletic, non-YouTube worthy people (speaking for myself here) who will never stand on an Olympic podium, life is made up of unseen, unheralded and seemingly unimportant dailies.

As a child of God, the questions remain:
Can I stick to something as demanding as consistently living for Christ?
Do I have enough dedication to take my faith seriously every day?
Are my daily reps helping or hurting my spiritual life?

Of course, it’s more than a gold medal or a place in a record book that motivates us. As Paul said, “For it is Christ’s love that fuels our passion and motivates us, because we are absolutely convinced that he has given his life for all of us.” 2 Cor. 5:14.

Someday
there will be gold crowns (Rev. 4:4)
for those whose names are written
in the record Book of Life (Rev. 20:12).
Instead of raising our arms in victory
on a podium
while the national anthem is played,
we will be on our faces in worship
at the throne of God
while angels sing, “Holy, holy, holy.”