Delta Flight #4533

I hate saying goodbye.

The tranquil sunset out the window in front of me almost matches tranquility of my desktop background, and my iPod ear buds are shutting out the bustle of the airport terminal to my back, but surrounding myself with peaceful scenes and soundtracks is useless when my heart is overwhelmed. I'm leaving this evening. Leaving the comforts of home, the soothing sounds of Dad's guitar, the balmy breeze of our southern California climate. Leaving Mom's gourmet cooking, connections with life-long friends, and late night talks with my sisters. I'm leaving the ocean, my brand new niece, my ailing grandmother, and all of my handsome brothers. Everything in me begs to stay, but obedience to God's direction says I need to leave.

As much as I hate to go, I'm confident that this is where God has me for this season of my life, and I'm cool with that.

Suddenly, sitting in the airport all by myself, I'm not alone anymore. I'm reminded that I won't be traveling alone, and my traveling partner has also gone before and paved the way.

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding. In all your way's acknowledge Him, and He will direct your paths.”

I halfheartedly congratulate myself that I didn't cry when saying goodbye this time, and wonder if leaving will ever get easier. Somehow, I don't think it will, and I'm oddly comforted by the realization. I'm glad that I have a family who loves me. I'm so thankful we're close enough that it hurts to leave.

Trusting in the Lord means surrendering my will, my plans and my desires to His own, and joyfully living out His purpose for my life.

Delta's flight #4533 is now boarding at gate 59 as I pick up my bags ready to follow.

So much to be thankful for!

After snoozing my alarm just once, I jumped out of bed at 4:something this morning with a little extra spring in my step which was not entirely due to the fact that I had to hustle to get out the door without being late.  See, I've been opening the little coffee shop for a lot of mornings in a row, and today is my last opening shift before I have a week off.

This time tomorrow I'll be on a plane, heading home to see my family - laughter seriously clogs my throat like a sob when I think about hugging my sisters at the airport in the balmy (and smoggy) California air.

Thank You, Father, for the inches of snow that fell yesterday, blanketing our town in white - thank You for your blood which washes m,e even whiter than this snow.

Thank You for the contrast between Idaho's snowy Monday and the sunny weather that waits for me tomorrow in California - thank You for your presence which warms my soul, even warmer than that California sunshine.

Thank You for the family and friends You've given me, both here in Idaho and back home in California - and thank You most of all for Your Son, Jesus Christ, the friend who is closer than a brother.

As the sun comes up illuminating the snow this morning, I'm in awe.  I'm humbled, indebted, grateful, and so freaking excited to be going home tomorrow!!!

Anxious for nothing

A pit of dread settled in my stomach as I looked at the first page of my final exam. Anxiety had been swirling through my head the whole weekend, but I'd put off the test long enough, and I was running out of time to get it done. I took a deep breath, and started in, shutting out the sounds and scenes around me. For the next hour, I agonized over the test, hoping that somehow, the answers would come to me.

When the hour was up, I turned it in to the proctor and asked for the second test, knowing that my results would be dicey at best. By the second page of the second test, panic began to set in.

“What was I thinking? I'm not ready for this! I should have reviewed in the parking lot. I'm never gonna finish this! Help!”

It occurred to me that while I had asked my roommate to pray for me as I walked out the door, I hadn't prayed myself. I dropped my pencil then and there, and committed my test to the Lord, asking Him for clarity of mind as I finished the test out.

And then the wait began. Doing proctored tests means that the tests have to be scanned and emailed back to the school who forwards them to the instructor, who grades them at their leisure – and then, finally, after I've chewed my fingernails right off, and worn a hole in the carpet pacing back and forth, my results are posted.

“Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God.”

Today, after checking for my scores for the fourth time in four hours, I realized that I had to get my mind on something else. So, today, I'm being thankful for my God who is bigger than test scores, who is powerful and good, and who I can wholeheartedly trust with my future. And I'm dwelling on the gifts that He's given me.  Things like:
 

:: Dad, and his wise counsel
:: Mornings in the Word
:: Those cheerful early morning customers
:: Fellowship with other kids my age who are pursuing Christ
:: The awesome girls I get to work with
:: Radiant heat, cold mornings, hot coffee
:: Going home to see my family in a week.

Forget about the tests, and all of the tomorrows. Today has enough things to think about.

Transformed

Why is it that the fire of my passion for Christ so easily turns into a smoldering coal?  I get all fueled up after an awesome message, after seeing Him working so evidently in my life, after reading a powerful blog post on one of the blogs I follow, or after being completely challenged and blessed by the examples of godly believers around me.  The fuel ignites a flame and my bed of coals burns brightly for an hour or a day, sometimes as long as a week....And then, before I know it, my fire dies down and my light grows dim. 

I was pondering all of this while working at the little coffee shop this week, and realized that my fire burns out because I forget so quickly the great things He has done.  I was going over in my head what the Lord had done for me, what I owe Him in return, and I began to write it out.  (On the back of a pay envelope, because that's what was handy.)

I started to write, from my perspective, the step by step changes in my life that occurred since I fully turned my life over to Him, and before I knew it, my pen couldn't keep up with my mind.

Rescued: From my destructive, self-serving, arrogant self.

Redeemed: I've been bought with a price

Cleansed: From the filthy rags I considered to be my righteousness.

Set free: From my slavery to sin.

Renamed: "Behold, what manner of love the Father has bestowed on us, that we should be called the sons of God."

Valued: God saw a worth in me that caused Him to pay the ultimate price for my freedom.

Loved: With a love that is larger than life.

Grateful: To a new Master who bought me to set me free.  I'm more than grateful - I'm...

Indebted: To say, "Thank you" is inadequate, and it would be impossible to repay the debt I owe.

Bond slave: Because it's my desire to take the life He bought back, and give it over to Him.

I wrote until the envelope would hold no more, and stood back in complete awe.  The Lord worked a complete transformation in my heart and life, and all I need to do to be reminded is to look in the mirror.  Oh, and the flame? It's been ignited today.

Meet Doug(ie)

Doug is in his fifties, has a voice that rasps from too many cigarettes and prison ink all over his arms.  He comes through the drive thru a couple times a day with a huge smile on his face and an encouraging word for whoever it is that makes his iced white mocha with whipped cream and caramel sauce drizzled on top. I first met him two years ago when he came through the shop and handed me a cup from a different coffee stand, apologizing for being a disloyal customer and assuring me that our coffee tastes better.

"I was on the other end of town for a Bible study so I stopped there.  The only thing that I liked is that they wrote my name on the cup.  See?" He pointed to the scrawled "Dougie" in sharpie marker.

I dug a sharpie out of the drawer under the cash register and wrote "Dougie" on his mocha and added a smiley face.

I've worked in the coffee shop for days or weeks at a time, with months and years in between.  The faces and drinks of the regulars have come and gone, but Doug's remains the same.

This afternoon he breezed into the sit-down bakery and coffee shop.  "What's the Word for today, sunshine?"  he asked me.  (Lately we've been sharing back and forth what we'd been reading and learning and meditating on. This ongoing discussion started when we were chatting about the guys he was meeting at the shop to mentor for the alcohol and prison recovery program he's working with.)

His question gave me a pause, because I speak Christian-ese well enough that I can always answer a question of that nature, but for some reason I couldn't put on a face for this man.

"Well truthfully Doug, I had a crazy morning, and never cracked open my Bible at all."

I cringed as those words came out of my mouth.  Mentally I berated myself.  "Come on, Merrie!  You've memorized enough verses.  You've stored up a stockpile of insights and analogies.  You can give him a better answer than that!"

The truth hurts to admit, (probably because I care so much about the image and the reputation I've built for myself.) but Doug didn't blink an eye like I would've.  Didn't sniff or look down his nose like I've done.  Didn't preach at or reject me.  He just loved me like Jesus loves me.  Accepted me, with my faults and imperfections.

Right now I'm humbled.  Right now I'm thinking that I haven't been such a big-hearted person as I thought I was.  Right now I'm realizing that a recovered addict/ex-convict is living more like Jesus than I, a born-and-raised-in-the-church Christian.  This morning I thought I was a pretty big deal, but right now I'm thinking it might be better to be "one of the least of these."

"But the Lord directs his steps"

-Wash red comforter, clean guest room
-Put dishes into dishwasher
-Grocery shopping
-Start chicken in crockpot
-Send in Enrollment Agreement
-Run
-Core workout
-Work at noon

I got home late last night after closing the bakery, and walked right into the Wednesday night Bible Study that meets in my sister's living room.

They'd been studying the book of James from start to finish and were in the middle of chapter 4, where James rebukes the saints for their boastful planning.

The practical application was somewhere along the lines of "So, when our day doesn't pan out as we planned, how can we acknowledge God's control over our lives?"

Ideas and suggestions were tossed back and forth, but the one that I loved the most was that we ought to adopt a spirit of gratitude. Offering thanksgiving in all things is in a sense acknowledging that all things were purposefully orchestrated just for me.

After I went to bed I wrote up the above list of things I needed to remember to get done in the morning. When I got back to the list tonight, I had to laugh. My day, as awesome as it turned out, was NOTHING like I planned.

I'm thankful for every part of it - and amazed at the timing of the truths that were shared last night.

"A man's heart devises his way; but the Lord directs his steps."

As it turns out, besides the core workout, I ended up essentially doing everything from the original list, in one way or another - but not in any way that resembled my plan for the day.

FIguring things out

We talk about getting our lives together and figuring out what we're supposed to be doing.  We talk about making a plan, and we make plans to make a plan for our lives, but then we always smirk when someone else says that they're trying to get life figured out and let them know to "Let me know how that works for you."

It may be a repeated theme for me on here, but the way our society puts so much stock into plans and position has weighed on my heart lately and was still in the back of my mind when we got to church on Sunday.  We were late, (which isn't too unusual as Sunday is the only day of the week that we're not up hours before dawn up here) so we slipped into the back row while the service started.

The special music stirred something in my soul and I've been mulling over it ever since.  An elderly man, well past seventy, got up and introduced a song he had heard for the first time as a teenager before he started singing.  The look on his face and the passion in his voice told me that he believed every single word.

I would love to tell you what I think of Jesus,
Since I've found in Him a friend so strong and true.
I would tell you how He changed my life completely,
He did something that no other friend could do.

No one ever cared for me like Jesus!
There's no other friend so kind as He! 
No one else could take the sin and darkness from me,
Oh, how much He cares for me!

All my life was full of sin when Jesus found me,
All my heart was full of misery and woe;
Jesus placed His strong and loving arms about me,
And He led me in the way I ought to go.

To hear these words from a man who is at the end of this crazy journey we call life really made me think twice.  Perhaps figuring out life isn't as important as we seem to think.  Perhaps the important thing is to love Jesus.  Perhaps all that's left for me to do is to love and trust Him and let Him take care of the details.