Tuesday, February 26, 2013

Back In The Day

About 2 weeks ago, I booked a short notice flight to Ohio. Initially, the trip was intended to help my mom as she recovered from a hospital stay and to assist my dad with the house and dogs until she fully recovered from an undiagnosed ailment. As it turned out, she felt well enough all week to play cards, go to the movies, and even frequent a museum during my stay. I am thankful to report that when her diagnosis was finally relayed to her after my stay, the road back to good health was easily treatable. Scary stuff averted~ score one for the home team!
On the way to Ohio, during a layover that gave me just enough time to hit the ladies room, grab a latte' from Starbucks using a gift card snuggled in the bottom of an old purse and (literally) speed walk from one end of Charlotte International to the other, I grabbed a NY Times bestseller off a kiosk by a romance novelist I used to follow back in the day. Most of us have that time period, don't we? Back in the day is when we believed in God but there was little or no relationship. It's when we drank too much every weekend (and the occasional Monday through Thursday), probably attended church begrudgingly or not at all, held bitterness and unforgiveness close to our hearts, cursed regularly and maybe even made fun of the gullibility of fanatic Jesus followers.  My "back in the day" included most of those things...and reading romance novels was a harmless little past time for a mommy who chased kids all day and had a deployed husband many nights.
I'll be honest. I don't feel any regret about that particular vice I had many years ago but, my oh my, how times have changed. As I got as comfortable as one can get on a fully booked commuter flight to Dayton Ohio, I pick the book up. I put the book down. I pick the book up. I put the book down. Is it guilt keeping me from this escapism?
No. It's better.
It's disinterest. Complete and utter disinterest.
Oh, no, not in romance! Disinterest in escaping from anything via a predictable plot and poor character development and replacing it with a voracious interest in reading C.S. Lewis or Joyce Meyer or Francis Chan or (gasp!) the bible.
If we are growing in Christ and becoming more mature as Christians, this inevitable process sneaks up on us like a bad cold. We just naturally begin to have our hearts break for what breaks His~ it becomes less and less of a "choice". It just IS.
We don't need to drink excessively, we begin to forgive others because God has forgiven us, we notice when others curse constantly and it starts to make the little hairs on our neck stand up...and maybe serious offenses toward God like pornography and broken marriage vows lose their appeal and we begin to become more in His image. We begin to change our hearts and actions. We begin to be disciples.
Is there any better gift? I don't think so.
Yes, the occasional curse word slips out when I'm angry.
Yes, I still enjoy a glass on Pinot Noir with dinner.
Yes, I am still a sinner and always will be.
On the other hand, His grace has lifted me from escapism. Today, I stay firmly rooted in my here and now even when the waters get rough and grabbing the familiar life preserver of numbing the pain seems easier. And it's all because I asked Him to change me.. and I meant it.

Are you growing in your relationship with Christ?
Does your heart break for what breaks His?
I'm praying for you today. Specifically for you.

I don't look at my "back in the day" as anything but a gift. If I hadn't been there, how would I know how far I've come?
Blessings,
Amy

Friday, February 22, 2013

The "Catfish Shack"

 
 
I slipped away on Tuesday.  I realized... and it was confirmed several times... I was depleted and needed to be ALONE… to release, rest, and refill.  Well, I say, “alone” but I was with the Lord and… with my beloved bundle of fluffy goodness… my dog... Dusty.   As I write this, he continues to bring me his ball and lay it at my feet!  Such a love.
As I drove into the town of my little retreat and was thinking about my time here, I noticed my husband’s truck was almost on empty.  I already knew what I wanted for dinner.  Catfish.  There is this little place, actually, it is a gas station with a restaurant inside, and it has wonderful catfish served with the perfect fries, cole slaw, and a corn muffin!  I love to tell people my favorite place to eat in this town is the gas station!  So I was trying to decide whether or not to go to the house first and then back out to the gas station or go on to the gas station first and fill the truck up and get my catfish.  It is funny how often these little moments of decisions have such an impact on life moments… God moments.
It was later in the afternoon so I decided to go on to the gas station.  It was a GREAT decision.  I decided that once I got the house, I wanted to hole up and not come out again until time to leave!
I was standing at the gas pump when this older man came out of the station.  “That’s a good looking pooch you got there in that truck,” he said to me.  In a split second, I had to gauge how I was going to respond.  Do you know that second of thought... where you are trying to decide?  Is this a friendly man?  Is he trying to start conversation?  Is he a weirdo?  Should I just smile, say thanks and turn away?  I mean, let’s be honest.  As a woman, at a gas station, if a man tries to start conversation with me… those questions rush through my mind.  So I decided he was old, looked friendly, liked my dog, and I would engage.  So I stepped around the pump to see him better and replied, “Yes sir... he sure is... thank you.”
“Did you see my little fella in my truck,” he asked.  I stepped around even further and sure enough, there was the CUTEST puppy in his truck, standing up on the back of the seat, looking out at his Pa.  It was a Schnauzer baby... much like this one.  Of course, I ooohed and aaahed like the crazy dog lover I am and our conversation… and God’s appointment for me… unfolded.
He wore clothes that were far less than new-looking.   He had on work gloves that he had cut the fingers off of and his fingers looked well worn.  And his smile… his smile was so sweet and genuine and kind… I wanted to hug him.
He went on to tell me he had been a dog trainer for over 40 years and that he was always amazed at how smart they were… how much they could learn.  He told me about a 14 year old Jack Russell he had to put to sleep last year.  With tears ever so slightly glimmering in his eyes, he said, “I have lived a long life, I spent years in Vietnam, was shot at, poisoned… and worse… and I just kinda shook it off.  But my girl got brain cancer and I had to put her down.   I am not ashamed to tell ya… and if anyone wants to say anything about it… let em… but I sobbed.  I mean…  I didn’t just boo hoo, I sobbed… every day… until there was just nothing left.  I just cried it all out.”
He’d been looking off into the horizon when he told me most of it, and then he turned and looked me deep in the eyes… with the tears still glimmering.  I reached out and took his arm and told him I knew that pain all too well and I shared my story of having to put down my sweet Schnauzer... little Lodie.
He then told me how his Jack Russell had saved his life.  She’d stumbled across a copperhead snake just in front of him and she pounced on it.  He said she got it right behind the head, shook it like crazy and it tore all apart.  “It’s guts went a-flyin everywhere,” were his exact words.  The thing he was most amazed about was the fact that even after she’d killed it, she would not let him get close to the dead body.  He said every time he tried to reach down to pick it up, she’d grab it and take it to the other end of the yard.  She still wanted to protect him.  And he just smiled and shook his head at the remembering of it.
“Isn’t it amazing how God puts that kind of knowledge and love and wisdom into an animal,” I offered.  “Yes.  Yes, it is,” he replied and went on to tell me about how God had used the donkey to speak to a man in the Bible who didn’t want to listen to Him!  Neither one of us could remember the poor fellow's name.  But we laughed together and agreed that we both thought if an animal spoke to us, we’d pretty much listen to it too!
There we stood.  Outside.  In the cold.  At a gas station.  In this sweet little moment.  Two strangers.  Yet so alike in this love of our dogs.  And there our dogs sat, in our trucks, watching us.
And then he said it, as he turned to walk back to his truck.  “Ma'am, if you are a praying lady, maybe you could remember this ole man in your prayers.”
Something shifted.  “What is your name?” I asked.  “Bill,” he answered.  “So nice to meet you, Bill,” and we shook hands.  “My name is Dawn and it just so happens I have come to town to be alone with God for a few days.  And I am a prayin' woman and I will pray for you, Bill,” I replied.  A big smile came across his face and he gave me a sweet southern gentleman’s, “Well, thank ya.” And then he turned to walk to his truck.
I told him I needed to go in and order some catfish for my dinner and he snapped his fingers and shook his head and said he’d ordered some and was about to go off and forget it.  He went to move his truck from the pump and I went inside… running over with thankfulness for such a sweet moment with such a sweet man.
I went to the ladies room first to pee ALONE! (If you read one of my last posts you’ll know that is a TREAT!)  When I came out, I picked up my to-go order and started to walk out.  Bill was standing there and said, “Hey, you said you came here to be with the Lord…”  I nodded yes with a smile and he continued, “I want to leave you with this… that’s good company.  It is the best company.  The company of the Lord.”
“Yes it is,” I agreed.  “And I have not had enough of it lately,” I added.  “He also says what you ask of Him, to ask with faith… believing.  Not like some of these people who don’t really believe.  You got to really believe,” he added. 
Yes.  He was so right.  And this stranger just spoke the very words I needed to hear.  

I had just spoken days earlier, that I wanted to quit.  To stop believing.  That believing was too hard when the answers just didn't come.  It was too hard when the silence from above weighed me down.  It was just too hard when my daughter jerked and moaned in a horrible seizure... again and again and again.  It was just too hard when I prayed and prayed and prayed and... "nothing".  I continue to fail.  Fail at displaying fruit of the Spirit.  Fail at being the mom He wants to me to be.  Fail at being the wife He wants me to be.  Fail at making Him a priority.  Fail in trusting.  Fail in praising.  Fail in abiding.  Fail at this... this life... this one life.  It was just too hard.
And THAT was why I slipped away.  I knew if I wanted to quit, the enemy was at my jugular and I had to get into the throne room of God.  I had to find quiet.  I had to find Him.  I had to hear Him.  I had to drink from His fountain.
I was smacked.  
I could just not stop looking at him with thankfulness.  The Lord had just used this sweet vessel to speak to my heart… in a time of great need of being reminded that He means what He says and I HAVE to believe… I HAVE TO BELIEVE no matter what is going on around me.  No matter what I SEE… No matter what it looks like...  no matter what I feel... NO MATTER WHAT!
He smiled and moved forward to get his food.  “Have a great night, Bill,” I replied.  “You have a good stay Dawn," he answered with that smile.
And I walked out.
I was so struck with the whole thing as I drove away. 
I could have missed it.
Had I gone to the house first… to turn on the water, and the heat, to pee, and to get settled in… I would have missed it.  I would have missed him.  I would have missed Him.  And how sad would have that been?
Moments of decision.  When I was trying to decide what to do on the way into town… my heart told me to go to the gas station.  The Holy Spirit whispering.  And I am so glad I listened and obeyed.
As I write this, I am sad I didn’t hug him.  I don’t think I did.  Did I at the end?  I can’t remember clearly.  But I think I did not.  And I think I should have.  
So I close my eyes, and I hug sweet Bill, with his sweet puppy, and his precious heart… and the encouragement of the LORD he blessed me with.  How I hope I run into him again at that little catfish place in the gas station of this little tiny town of my retreat.  And I praise my God for being so living and so active and so, so sweet… He amazes me with HIMSELF so very often.
Who might God send to speak to you?  Have you ever met a "Bill"?  Let's pray to always be open to hear and see that appointment... and to let His love unfold!  I don't want to miss a single one.
Be blessed this weekend.
Much love, Dawn~