Slightly Off

I drilled the hole off by maybe an eighth of an inch, but it was enough. I was trying to install a towel bar that required me to use my left hand to drill because of the location. As I am a righty, somehow I misjudged and the hole was slightly off. When you've drilled into drywall, that can pose a problem as that eighth of an inch may make the stability of the bar less secure. I was growing increasingly frustrated with my ineptitude in completing what I thought would be a simple project. My husband saw me struggling and heard me say, "I don't know what to do," to which he sweetly replied, "Pray." I responded back, "I don't think God cares about my towel bar."

I can't believe that came out of my mouth, and my husband was quite taken aback. He replied: "That's not what my wife told me. She told me her God cares about everything."

With that statement, he was reminding me of a story early in our relationship. I was getting dressed for the day, couldn't decide what to wear and prayed out loud, "God, which shirt should I wear?" Brad then said, "You honestly think God cares which shirt you wear?" To which I responded, "My God cares about everything." I'd always believed that. A God who created the minuscule details of this beautiful world, cares about everything. My mother taught me that.

For me to respond about the towel bar as I did went against what I believed deep in my heart. So I clarified my statement to my husband immediately after that: "With all the more important things going on in people's lives, I hate to bother Him with a towel bar." But I went ahead anyways and quietly prayed, "Please help me, Lord." I had no idea how I would fix this, nor how to even pray for a solution. But then I immediately found a way to finagle some toothpicks into the hole to move the screw over just enough for make it work. I quietly said to my husband, "You were right. He did care about my towel bar."

Now I don't know that God was up in Heaven checking up on me wondering when I was going to ask for His help with this task, but I do know He cares when trials and unforeseen circumstances can irritate me to the point of anger and frustration. He says via Peter to cast those burdens (1 Peter 5:7). A God that knows the number of hairs on my head (Matt. 10:30) and names each and every one of the billions of stars in the heavens (Psalm 147:4), also cares about a crazy girl in Alabama installing a towel bar.

I hate that I let myself get to the point where I thought my frustrations were unworthy of a heavenly consultation. But I'm grateful for a husband who reminded me to Whom I belong and got me back in the mindset of giving God control. Glory to the Most High God for loving me enough to gently guide my tiny innovation and miraculously stabilize that which I could not. What an awesome, precious, loving Father we have.

One Bad Berry

I don't know why this happens to me so often, but it seems like every time a get a container of berries, after a day or so, I end up getting a batch of moldy ones. It starts with the one fuzzy, smooshy berry that is tightly packed in with all her ripe yummy berry friends only to spread her moldiness to everyone around her. Then a third of the berries end up in the trash. Doesn't matter the berries: strawberries, blueberries, raspberries ... happens every time. I try to catch the rotting berries early and separate from them the rest of the batch, but sometimes miss them until it's too late. Perhaps it's the conditions. I read that fruit needs to be a low-humidity bin in the refrigerator. But then again it could be that when packaged, that one berry was already infected.

How's the old song go? ♫ One bad apple can spoil whole bunch, girl. ♫ True. As the song alleges, it's not just with fruit. I bought a bag of ink pens the other day for my Sunday School class. When I opened up the package, one pen had blown ink all over all the other pens. I didn't notice it until I started passing out the pens to my 7th and 8th graders. In the process I got blue ink all over my hands and the kids' hands. A good hand sanitizer later and all the pens and our hands were ink free.

So, of course, this can be with people, too. When comparing Myers-Briggs personality types recently, our family read aloud the description of an ENFJ. We have quite a few ENFJs in our family, including myself, my daughter, daughter-in-law, mother and father-in-law, to name a few. ENFJs are Extrovert, Intuitive, Feeling, Judging types. When reading the description, we learned something very intriguing: ENFJs

 "can unconsciously over-identify with others and pick up their burdens as if they were their own. In the process, ENFJs may risk their own sense of identity. They have a natural ability to mimic because of this highly developed ability to empathize by introjection." [Please Understand Me by David Keirsey and Marilyn Bates]

I have noticed this about myself throughout my life. If you're speaking in a Southern accent, I'll slip into it. If you're using sarcasm, I'm right there with you. If you break down in tears, look out, here come the waterworks. It's why I can't see horror movies - they truly scare me to death. So basically, I'm dangerously ripe next to the moldy strawberry.

But a person doesn't need to be an ENFJ to be influenced by people around them. I've seen all kinds of children and adults absorb the characteristics of the people they hang out with, whether kind or troublemakers. It's why we as parents carefully watch who our children befriend, knowing behaviors, opinions and personality traits can rub off on our kids. Or likewise carefully observe what they watch on television that they don't pick up on qualities we don't want them to imitate. Adults need to be careful themselves, however, as they are also susceptible to being influenced by those around them.

I think that's why I love daily reading my Bible and going to church. In worship, I'm surrounded by a bunch of people who are all there for a good "sanitation" process. We all know what the world surrounds us with, so we congregate in church to be filled with the written and spoken Word to clean off the smearing ink and remove the moldy from our lives. And it's not something we can do once a week, hence the daily Bible reading. I need regular introspection to be sure I'm imitating Christ. 1 John 2:6 says we need to "walk as He walked." 2 Cor. 3:18 says we need to be "transformed into the same image from glory to glory." Phil. 2:5 tells us to have the "mind of Christ." And Eph. 5:1 tells us to be "imitators of God." I don't always watch entirely appropriate things on TV or hang out with trustworthy, moral people, so the reminder of what is Godly is constantly necessary.

The flip side of this is that God doesn't necessarily want us to remove the sinners from our lives. Let's face it, Jesus hung out with them regularly. We do, too, when in worship. The church is pew-packed with sinners, praise His name, so I fit right in. And when sharing the parable of the weeds in Matthew 13, Jesus recommended leaving the weeds among the wheat, "because while you are pulling the weeds, you may uproot the wheat with them." Plus, I think Christ hopes the wheat stalks will have an influence on the weeds. I know there have been plenty of wheat stalks in my life that have certainly made a difference on this weed.

Now if only the ripe berries would have an influence on the fuzzy ones ... then maybe the whole batch could be saved.

The Missing Piece

 A family friend got us a puzzle to work on when they were visiting last week: a colorful seashell puzzle that featured a huge, prominent yellow starfish near the center. It was a gorgeous puzzle, but that starfish was a beast. We decided to save it for the end since every piece looked just like the next one. But at some point during the assembly of this 500-piece jigsaw beauty, we lost a piece. Not of the starfish, but rather of a bright pink shell. We looked everywhere for it, under the cushions, under the furniture. It was nowhere to be found. We just came to the conclusion is was gone and decided to finish the rest of the puzzle regardless. When it was completed, I texted a picture of it to everyone who helped us work on it. My daughter then commented, "Still missing that one piece." Even though that beast of a starfish was completed, the puzzle wasn't complete without the missing piece.

It got me thinking about our unique value to God's plan. Each created by God for a specific part in growing His Kingdom, we are all different, quirky, special, one-of-a-kind masterpieces designed for God's purposes. That gives a new perspective on our value as children of God. One can't be missing. I suppose that's reason Christ said he'd leave the 99 to find the one, "What do you think? If a man owns a hundred sheep, and one of them wanders away, will he not leave the ninety-nine on the hills and go to look for the one that wandered off? And if he finds it, truly I tell you, he is happier about that one sheep than about the ninety-nine that did not wander off. In the same way your Father in heaven is not willing that any of these little ones should perish." Matt. 18:12-14

This became more evident to me when searching for particular pieces in completion of the puzzle. Looking for that piece that had a little bit of this or that color with just the right shape, I'd come across one that surprised me when it actually fit. The piece by itself didn't look like anything in particular, but put into the puzzle suddenly made a gorgeous picture. When we look in the mirror and wonder why we look a certain way, act a certain way, have specific talents or interests, it may seem we don't necessarily fit in, when in reality, we are a necessity. We help complete the plan ... and in the process become complete ourselves.

In the sermon Sunday, our pastor referenced Mark 1:11 - "And a voice came from heaven: “You are my Son, whom I love; with you I am well pleased."  He encouraged us to remember that our Father feels the same way about us as He does about His Son, Jesus. You are a child that He loves. With you He is well pleased. It's a message we all need to hear. In your unique, distinctive, particular, extraordinary way, you are a key part of God's plan to grow His Kingdom, and more importantly, He loves, loves, loves us, enough to chase us so that none go missing.

By the way, my daughter asked me to look under the couch to see if the missing pink piece was there. I thought we'd looked everywhere, but low and behold, there the missing piece was. We spent a lot of time searching for that tiny piece. It was worth the hunt, as the puzzle was finally complete.

And we're worth it, too. We may not know just yet where we fit in the completed picture, but God's got it, He adores us and creates us to be the rare, original soul that we are. Oh, that we would always remember our value ... and not just to Him, but to the other pieces interlinked around us.

Versions of the Same Thing

I have three kinds of toothpaste. Not even kidding. One for sensitive teeth, one for whitening and one that doesn't let plaque stand a chance. I have three sets of markers: my Tombow blendables, a Sharpie permanent set and regular markers. I have three kinds of eyeshadow palettes: nudes, goldens and brights, for whatever strikes the mood. You may see a pattern of threes here, but that doesn't come close in the Bibles. I have a King James Version, New International Version, The Message, Serendipity, New Revised Standard Version, Life Application Bible, Parallel Bible, Cultural Studies Bible, Journaling Bible and Chronological Bible. And that's not all of them. Nor does it include the app Bible Gateway which has zillions of versions to read or listen to.

I love them all and use all of them. When I'm not getting the gist of a passage, I break out The Message for a simpler, clearer understanding. When I want to know what the actual word-for-word translation is (and since I don't know Greek or Hebrew), I'll go to Young's Literal Translation on Bible Gateway. To compare various translations, I'll go to the Parallel Bible. To try to comprehend unfamiliar traditions or practices I read about in one version, I'll read the same passage in the Cultural Studies Bible. When I'm feeling more creative, I break out the Journaling Bible. The Bible I use most often is a S U P E R  G I A N T  P R I N T NIV. I once got a comment from someone who saw my Bible: "Geez, I can read your Bible's print two pews back!" Thankfully, with my poor close up vision, so can I! Love that super giant print. My favorite version is the New Revised Standard. I love the way it reads and am happy with the accuracy of the translation.

Here's the thing, all three of my toothpastes all do the same thing. They clean my teeth. All three markers have ink. All three eyeshadow palettes highlight what the Lord already gave me. And likewise, all these Bibles say the same thing. Truly. They may vary in the way they say things, but honestly it's all the same. When I used to sell Bibles at a Christian store and people would ask me what the best kind of Bible was, my comment was and always is the same: "A well-read one." I would tell them what each version had in it, but would always tell them they couldn't go wrong with any of the versions. It's all the Word of God. Just be sure when you get one (or in my case, several), you read it! Read it, read it, read it. We live a in a topsy-turvy world that is switching up the moral compass more and more each day, so if there was ever a time to be in the Word of God, now's the time.

Sunday, a 5-year-old friend of mine was presented with a Bible. He clutched it to his chest throughout the worship service and every once and awhile flipped through the pages. After worship, he ran up to my pastor husband who had handed it to him to thank him for it. His mother told me later he carried it with him everywhere that day and told everyone about his new Bible. That evening he slept with the Bible and asked his Mom to read a chapter to him in the morning. Then asked if she would read him a second chapter later. Oh that we would all be as excited to have the Word in our possession and read it. Glory to the Lord above!

I have a friend who recently asked about an old Bible she had. She's worn the pages out, some are even falling out, and the binding has broken. She asked what she should do with it cause she didn't feel right throwing out the Word of God. We texted back and forth about it, but you know what the best part of that is? It was worn out! She had gotten a new one to begin to wear it out.

My toothpastes will be carefully squeezed from the bottom until they're empty. My markers will be used till they dry out. My eyeshadow pallettes will eventually be brush-swiped clean. And my Bibles, God-willing, will get to the point where will pages will fall out and binding will crack. The Good news about the Good News is, I can always pick up another Bible (God bless America for that! In some countries that is not the case). But I plan on reading  and rereading and rereading the Living Word of God over and over again till I die in our Precious Father's efforts to clean me up, straighten me out and bring me ever closer to Him. And work on being ... you know ... less-sensitive, white as snow and cavity-free.