The Word in My Life

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2014-03-25T12:33:00.000-07:00

For more articles and fresh insight, please follow us to our new home at thewordinmylife.com. We're bigger and better and you don't want to miss one single episode! Be sure to read my most recent article to find out what I've been up to since you last checked in. SPOILER ALERT - I've written a book! And that's only the beginning. See you on the other side.

As always, BE BLESSED

Loria

A New Dawn, a New Day, a New Life!

2012-01-11T08:17:00.000-08:00

“He asked me, “Son of man, can these bones live?”

I said, “Sovereign LORD, you alone know.”

Then he said to me, “Prophesy to these bones and say to them, ‘Dry bones, hear the word of the LORD! (Ezekiel 37:3-4)

I juggled the package in my arms as I put the key into the slot and opened my front door. My daughter came from the kitchen, smiling, and said “Why are you home so early?” Then her gaze fell on the box, containing my personal belongings, in my hands. Her face fell. “What happened?” I raised my eyebrow in response. My face told all. She came to me, took the box out of my hands and hugged me. “This is so exciting!” I heard her say. Huh? “No,” she explained, when I gave her a look like she was more than a little crazy. “As good as that job was; I know the next one will be even better. This is EXCITING!” That kid. My kid. She is SO my daughter.

My father, a Baptist minister, used to say: Only a young fool or an old man would preach from the book of Revelation.” Whew, good thing I’m not going there today! But this scripture from Ezekiel was the basis for one of his favorite sermons, Dry Bones in the Valley. It’s a promise from God of restoration for Israel. But this morning, it became a promise for me. As I am faced with rebuilding my life again (say it with me – ONE MORE TIME!), I was awakened before dawn, pondering these questions: How can you bring life to a dead situation? How can you breathe new life into a calamity? How do you coax fire from dying embers? The answer came to me from this scripture.

When I first got laid off, I was very optimistic. I’ll get another job - just like THAT, with a snap of my fingers. It soon morphed into – “My break is just around the corner … any day, now …” I mean, how long could this last? I have FAVOR, right? As the days since I was last employed lengthened, reality set in. Half the summer with no job. The fall and into Christmas, still no job. Not that there weren’t opportunities. I’ve had plenty. Interview after interview ended in heartbreak. I’ve never been on so many promising interviews AND been rejected in all my life. WOW. It was enough to make me feel a little paranoid and look at myself asking, “What’s wrong with me?” But it’s nothing personal; a lot of people are out of work right now.

I was on a roller coaster of emotions. I fluctuated between extreme highs with every potential job (I’ll be working within the week!”) to valley lows (“I thought for sure they’d hire me…”) with every disappointment. I went on an unintended, extended hiatus and stopped writing this here blog as I struggled with what to reveal. Some of the things I’ve written about have been pretty personal but many of them were post crisis. As a church mother used to say, “I can’t tell all but I can tell some.” I didn’t want to tell that. Not THAT. It was too humiliating. Even though it was called a layoff, it felt like being fired. True, one is kinder than the other but the message is still the same – rejection. Translation: WE DON’T WANT YOU! Getouttahere! This was too close, too personal, too soon. Plus, I thought; how do I write and not give hope? How can I write about my struggle and not show resolution? How could I write and not say what was going on with me? I couldn’t write and not be real. For months, I sat trying to NOT tell this story. But this story cried out, Tell ME.

I’ve taught my children that setbacks are temporary and God usually brings about a way to place me in an even better situation as a result. As the song says, “Every round goes higher and higher …” While things may seem dismal, they usually work out for my good. Not usually, I hasten to amend, ALWAYS. So why the depression and the “valley lows”? Because it’s happening to me! And I don’t want it to (with the pouty lip). I don’t want it to be my time for trial, not again. But as Gandalf said to Frodo when he voiced much the same sentiment, “So do all who live to face such times, but that is not for them to decide.” No one wants tribulation. No one signs up for it. Argh.

As much as I wanted to go completely ostrich (you know, head in the sand), it came down, once again to being a role model. It took a conversation with a good friend to make me realize this. She said to me, “Loria, you are everything I’ve always wanted to be. When I think of being a good Christian, I think of you. When I look for an example, I look to you.” I was floored. Speechless. Humbled. Touched. She continued, “That’s why I believe you’re meant to help more than just me. As much as you do that for me, I know you’re meant to help more than me.” She brought home for me, something my sister has repeatedly said: It’s not about YOU.

My friend reminded me that she has watched, time and again, as I have hauled my life out of the ashes and started over. Each time, I come away from the experience as a shining example of His goodness and love. My life is an encouragement to others. So then, I must, as David once did, “Encourage myself in the Lord.” (1 Samuel 30:6) I must speak or prophecy to myself, my life, these dry bones and tell them to live again. This time I must be the role model and example for myself. I must show up for me. God chose me, for whatever reason, to go through this IN FRONT OF OTHERS. I know He will use this situation to get glory for himself and restore me.

Job said, “Naked I came from my mother’s womb and naked I shall depart.” (Job 1:21) He understood a simple truth. It wasn’t his to begin with. It all belongs to God anyway, as my pastor says. Every child, every piece of land, every blessing – it’s all His to give or take away as he sees fit. Experience has taught me, He gives more than he takes. I’m confident that, in the end, I will have the job or career that God has meant for me. The one that will bless me and move me forward has my name written all over it.

So I pose the question again. Who can breathe new life into these dry bones? God can. He alone is able. He still sits on the throne. His arm is not shortened. He can still save and deliver. He still has an “S” on his chest. He is still my hero. He will rescue me… again.

Be blessed,

Loria

HI-BEAR-NATION

2011-10-15T15:42:00.000-07:00

“And from the days of John the Baptist until now the kingdom of heaven suffers violence, and the violent take it by force.” Matthew 11:12

Conversation between myself and a friend on any given Super Bowl Sunday:

Friend: Which team are you rooting for?

Me: Da Bears!

Friend: But the Bears aren’t playing …

Me: Well, I’m not really a football fan, per se. I’m a Bears fan. So I’m always rooting for the Bears.

Friend: But the Bears aren’t playing. So … who are you are rooting for?

Me: Da Bears!

At this point, my friend usually shakes their head at me and gives up. But I am a die-hard fan of the Chicago Bears, specifically, the 1985 Bears team that won Super Bowl XX. Oh, yeah! When that Bears’ defense took possession of the ball and marched down the field, it usually resulted in points put on the board. There were some truly memorable moments from that team. Watching Walter Payton run the ball was like watching a gazelle – poetry in motion. Jim McMahon was a great quarterback AND he could take a hit! (But THAT Bears line tried very hard to make sure that didn’t happen too often.) Willie Gault was so handsome … maybe he didn’t always catch the ball but watching him run was a thing of beauty. And the Fridge – well, he may not be much now, but he supplied a lot of entertainment back then. (Let us not forget the tight ends, Amen!) Those Bears were fun to watch. They were hard workers and they didn’t give up.

Mike Ditka once said: In life you have two types of people. You have Grabowskis and then, there are Smiths. The implication was that the Grabowski type of personality was the kind of person who would go after things, no holds barred. Pummel life – just beat it into submission. And then, there are the Smiths. These are your more passive types of people. They just kind of let life happen to them, instead of making things happen. Mike Ditka’s Bears were Grabowskis. They played hurt. They played frozen. They played in miserable weather and got the job done. We knew we were about to win the Super Bowl when it began to snow – it was like a Christmas miracle. Because what was snow to Da Bears? Bear Weather! They were amazing. They were Grabowskis. Grrrrr.

Mike Ditka’s words turned out to be somewhat prophetic, as years later, the Bears current coach is aptly named Lovie Smith. I watched their Super Bowl appearance to cheer the Bears because I thought they were another incarnation of MY 1985 Bears. Boy, was I disappointed. Not just because we lost, but because they didn’t show any of the drive and determination that I believed was typical of MY Bears. At the risk of offending football aficionados everywhere (and I am no expert, to be sure), I saw a team of ballet dancing, tutu wearing, pansies. They cried when they were hurt and couldn’t play. The coaching was, sadly, poor. The quarterback, sadly, was bad. They failed to convert their plays into touchdowns. They wore the Bear uniforms but lacked the mentality – that Grrrrrrrrrabowski way of thinking – that was needed to get the job done. Who were these people? They were not MY Bears – they were Smiths.

“Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us.” Hebrews 12:1

By now you’re wondering, what got me to thinking about Bears? I’ve been thinking lately of going into hibernation – you know, like real bears do. When I think of my own personal hibernation, it is a time for me to withdraw from the world and turn my attention inwards. Usually, there is a catalyst, some event that makes me think, “Wow – time to retreat and regroup!” Time to re-evaluate my way of doing things and figure out how I got to this point. Time to reflect and redirect myself if I’ve gotten off track. Failed relationships, romantically or otherwise, typically drive me into hibernation. After you get it wrong enough times, you begin to see the problem may not be the other person. So I need time to think about where I messed up and where I can improve.

But I read a comment the other day that got me thinking: What is really going on when a bear goes into hibernation? Do they hibernate just so they can catch up on their sleep? (LOL!) Bears spend the summer and fall packing on pounds to get them through the winter. The extra weight is just for sustenance – it’s needed. When they come out of their hibernation period, they are leaner – they’ve dropped what they no longer need. Something that female bears do specifically during this time is create. While their body is sleeping, it’s also actively working on the next phase in their lives. When they finally emerge, you may see a cub or two at their side. And whether the bear is male or female, they’re hungry.

So this time, as I enter into hibernation, I’m not going there to lick my wounds but to grow and to create. I’m going there to drop some things that worked for a time, but now, I find I no longer need. I’m going there to spend some time alone, to rejuvenate and to be healed. I have some things that I need, that I want to accomplish in my life that’s going to take some planning and dedication. I have goals that I want to reach – setting them is kinda what I do, LOL! I will use this time to refocus and repurpose my life. And like the bear, when I am done, I will be ferociously HUNGRY. I want to meet the obligations I have set for myself.

I will not only be like the bear, I will be like Da Bears in my mentality. I will attack every goal I have set, like it is a first down, marching ever across that field until I reach my goal. I won’t be satisfied until that ball sails through the posts and I can yell: TOUCHDOWN! YEAH BABY! Then I’ll do my little victory dance – maybe part cabbage patch, part running man. I will approach my goal with single minded determination to persevere and succeed, no matter the obstacle thrown in my path. I will not give up because I am a Bear - 1985, Super Bowl XX Champion Chicago Bear, to be exact – and a Grabowski. I’m not giving up. I’m not stopping. Grrrrr….

Be Blessed,

Loria

True Grit

2011-07-28T14:09:00.000-07:00

“But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me.” 2 Corinthians 12:9

Did you know that those who appear to be REALLY strong.... are actually the most sensitive? Did you know that those who spend all their time protecting and caring for others...usually are in need of someone to protect and to care about them? Did you know that three of the hardest things to say are: "I love you," "I'm sorry" and "Help me"? (Recent FB post)

I recently confessed to a friend: “I really feel that post about ‘strong’ people - it gets hard to keep up the facade at times ... it tires me out. Being 'weak’ would be so nice.” I’ve always thought weakness meant the exact opposite of my definition of strength. So, I said to my friend, “I think I will allow myself this day to be ‘weak’ ... or maybe just a few hours ... okay - A FEW MINUTES! Dang it, can’t do the all-day thing ... got people counting on me to be strong ... heck, I'M counting on me, too LOL!” I couldn’t give in to a pity party for long. Then I thought about that word … weak. Would it really be so bad to be weak and what does that even mean?

Well, I know what being strong means. Believing myself to be strong, appeals to the hero in me. It means I sometimes say no to myself - I restrict myself and try to think of the greater good. It means I restrain myself and try to see the big picture. It means being noble and honest and of good character. It means being an example for others to follow. It means pull-yourself-up-by-your-bootstrap-son! It means forge ahead and create your own destiny. Instead of playing the victim, I take responsibility for changing the situation that I find myself in – that I may have even created. It means doing what you have to do to get it done in the face of certain obstacles that would derail others’ efforts. Courage under fire.

Truthfully, I’m such a control freak that I hate to feel that any part of my life is out of my control. And I‘m so proud that it’s very hard to say, “Help me.” That, too, is weakness. But is this desire to not appear weak really driven by a need to show others that I’ve got it all together? Does pride equal strength? Well, as another friend so helpfully pointed out, “Pride goeth before destruction…” (Proverbs 16:18) So pride is the most certain way you can destroy yourself. So then, what is weakness?

If being weak means that you are able to admit you need help and to ask for it, then that takes strength (at least, for me) because it is so very hard to do. If it means that you let down your walls and let other people in, that’s scary and takes courage to do because they can potentially hurt you. Wow. This weak thing is not as easy as it sounds. To just GIVE UP? Give up your power and leave yourself wide open, making yourself THAT vulnerable? Being weak is definitely not all it’s cracked up to be. I guess your security can only lie in WHO you are leaving yourself vulnerable to.

Being weak before God means I will allow him to have my power. It means I will give him control over a situation. It means I will submit to his will. It means you can allow yourself to be vulnerable and put yourself in his hands, knowing he will not abuse your trust. He is not a man, so being weak before him and admitting we need help from him is not only acceptable, it’s preferred. God loves it when we come to him with our broken lives, bring him our broken messes, put it in his hands and say “Daddy, can you fix this?” And being a good parent, like I did for my children when they would bring me their broken toys, he takes it out of our hands and puts it back together, making it functional again. THERE – good as new!

Our God delights in doing this. It’s when we are at our most weak and vulnerable that God is at his best. Think about it, how much success would your child have with fixing that broken toy unless they hand it over to you? They would struggle with it for a time, trying to be independent, trying to fix it, saying “No! I can do it!” They finally give up in frustration, throwing pride out the window. That is us. God can’t do anything until we give up and give it over to him, which requires that we admit we cannot do it alone. Then we cry, “I need help!” Oh, but he is our strength! When I say I want to be weak, I’m really saying, I want someone to be strong for me. I’m really strong for other folks – let someone be really strong for me. Someone I can lean on. Someone I can trust with my troubles.

I find myself currently in the position of having to re-invent myself … yet, again. Shoot! Dang it! My strength, in the past, has been dependent on those I had to be strong for – my kids, my mom, my family or friends. So when put in a similar position some five years ago, I found it in me to be strong for my kids’ sake. They needed me – I could not let them down. So, while part of me wanted to just crawl in a hole and be done with it, I couldn’t allow myself that luxury of just giving up. And part of me was afraid to just give up for fear the torrent of life’s cares would just wash me away. I was afraid to lose in my desperate gamble for freedom and my bid to begin life anew. I was determined to succeed. I NEEDED to succeed.

I’m finding now that it’s easier to show up and be strong for other people than it is for myself. For those who need me, for those who are “weaker” than myself, I have been strong. Do I have it in me to show up and be strong for me? Thank goodness, I’ll never find out … I plan on taking the ‘easy’ road this time. Just let myself be weak, for a change. I’ll lean and depend on God and trust that he won’t let the cares of this life carry me away. I give my strength away and find the courage to say, “I need help.” Time to let go and let God.

Jesus loves me this I know, for the Bible tells me so

Little ones to him belong, they are weak but he is strong …

Be blessed,

Loria

Village People

2011-05-24T07:36:00.000-07:00

God said to Adam: “Don’t eat the apples off that tree."

Adam said, “What tree?”

God replied, “That tree – in the middle of the garden. Don’t eat the apples.”

Adam called: “Hey Eve, we got apples!”

Children ... sigh! My son recently found himself in a tough spot due to some poor choices he’d made. I was concerned and worried enough to go into prayer mode for him, EVERY SINGLE DAY. Every morning, he consumed my thoughts. He was constantly on my mind. Help him, God, I prayed. Guide him to you. Show yourself to him. Let him know his life is not his own. He has a greater responsibility because he has been given so much. Call him to you. And on it went. I also enlisted the help of a few relatives and trusted friends to pray with me. I just wanted to be sure my son was OK. My friends and family comforted me and prayed with me and God came through for me and my son – as always. I am thankful. But just before I got the good news that God turned his situation around, I had a realization. My son was not the only young person who’d lost his way and therefore, become guilty of frustrating and disappointing his parents. The main difference between my son and others? THEY were not my problem.

“… they came for the Jews and I didn’t speak out because I wasn’t a Jew. Then they came for me and there was no one left to speak out for me.” Pastor Martin Niemöller

See, I thought it couldn’t happen to us. I thought we were immune to some of the difficulties other families faced. I felt secure in how I’d raised him, the calling on his life and in how much God had blessed us. When other parents told me of their trials, I would pray with them, but I felt personally detached from their situation. “Wow,” I thought. “Look at what THEY are going through!” Such Arrogance. Now I am ashamed of my attitude. “Peace and safety,” says the scripture, is what we claim just before “sudden destruction” overtakes us (1Thessalonians 5:3). Before it personally touched me, I didn’t even THINK to pray continually for the guidance and safety of all of our young people, everywhere. I know now that was foolishness, for their calamity at some time may touch me and mine in some form. And soon we will hand our world over to them – our young people, to do what they will – no, to do what we have trained (or failed to train) them to do. God used this situation to convict me: Loria, you’ve got to care. You’ve got to pray. This does affect you and your loved ones. You’ve got to be concerned.

"As for me, far be it from me that I should sin against the LORD by failing to pray for you..." 1 Samuel 12:23

While our situation was not dire and we were not in desperate straits -THIS TIME – what if the opposite were true? Would it have taken something truly awful for me to be actively praying for a solution? Wow. When it happened to my son’s friends, I thought “Wow. Look at him – he did that to his poor mother.” And it’s true, when our kids do things that are not in keeping with what we have taught them, we look to ourselves. What did I do wrong? How could I have done this better? Is this a result of such and such catastrophe? Are they acting out? As mothers, we take this on ourselves. Even scripture says, “A child left to himself will bring shame to his mother.” (Proverbs 29:15) Society doesn’t automatically look to the father, they look to the mother. And we look to ourselves for the blame, too.

My friend said to God (concerning her own son), “I didn’t raise him like that!” To which God replied, “Then why are you letting the devil condemn you about it?” Nobody wins the blame game – it just keeps you wrapped up in guilt, feeling badly and not being able to get past it. Haranguing and nagging the offender doesn't help. When confronted, my own son said, “What do I do now?” That attitude helps us to move forward. Sometimes, analyzing how we got where we are helps to ensure we don’t make the same mistake again. But eventually, we have to address the situation head on: How do I get myself out of the pickle I find myself in? And then we need to pull up our sleeves and work to do just that.

“It takes a village to raise a child.” African Proverb

When my children were small, I used to walk them to their bus stop daily. It was only a short distance away – just a couple of blocks - but it was on a busy street. For some reason, other parents felt completely safe with sending their children unattended, or so I assumed. I was quite on my high horse about it – “THOSE parents,” I thought. How could they send their children to play near a major street? Not my children, I said to myself, as I proceeded to escort them every day. Before long, I knew all the children and I was the adult presence at the bus stop. I watched out for them all.

I remember when some of those same children were doing poorly in school. I recall one girl who couldn’t read, yet she was being advanced from grade to grade. These same children wanted to form a “study club” and invited my children to participate. But I wouldn't allow my children to become involved for fear their grades would slip, too. That was alright for THOSE children and THOSE mothers who were uninvolved and did not seem to care. It didn’t occur to me that maybe, those mothers could not do better. And maybe somewhere along the line, their children would affect my own.

It seems my neighborhood school shared my views. They were guilty of not caring about the progress of the children and foisting the responsibility solely off on the parents. They thought those families alone would be affected. They didn’t see a reason to care because it didn’t affect the student body as a whole. Except one day, it did. Our school was evaluated and found lacking – they were put on the watch list. I was sent a notice telling me that I could send my children to another school because our current school did not meet the standards. Wow. The following year – let me tell you – I received no such notice from the school regarding their academic standing. It was a humbling experience and they realized what affects one, may affect us all. Lesson learned. Message delivered.

That was a wake-up call for the school and for me, then. But now, today, it’s message returns to me. We must care when we hear stories of other children doing poorly. We must care when we hear of other parents who are struggling. We must NOT think it affects only THEM, for we could be THOSE parents – it’s only by the grace of God that we are not in their shoes. We must pray for them now, as we would our own children and not wait until it becomes our problem. It is our duty and responsibility. If we don’t care today, one day we will – because their lives may very well be intertwined with our own.

Be blessed,

Loria

P.S. I'm thankful for the joke that reminded me, even God has problems with wayward children (LOL!) and for the friend who reminded me "God is ABLE" to keep them!

The Gospel Truth

2011-04-21T19:40:00.000-07:00

“And then he told them, "Go into all the world and preach the Good News to everyone.” (Mark 16:15 NLT)

"I sought to hear the voice of God and climbed the topmost steeple, but God declared: "Go down again - I dwell among the people." John Henry Newman

It’s Holy Week - that time of year when we reflect on the life and times of Jesus; his death, burial and resurrection. I thought to myself, what can I say about this occasion that hasn’t been already said or taught? Then it came to me, that while many of us have heard the story and know the details of his life and death, many still may not understand what his resurrection fully accomplished. What does it mean for us?

I’ve watched Mel Gibson’s The Passion of the Christ, ONCE. (Trust me, once was enough!) I thought it was an incredibly moving and spiritual cinematic experience, albeit graphic in violence. I left the movie theatre with a greater understanding of what he had done for and endured for us. There is one scene in the movie that always comes to mind, that stays with me even now: As Jesus died on the cross, an earthquake occurred, rending the veil in the temple into two pieces. Yeah, I remember that part because something powerful and wonderful happened at that moment. It was bigger than the natural disasters and signs in the heavens which indicated the son of God had died. That is the moment, in my mind, when Jesus transferred his right to go before God to ME.

In the Old Testament, the veil separated the holy of holies, the most sacred place, from the rest of the temple. And only the High Priest could enter in and only once a year, to make atonement for the sins of Israel. No regular layman could approach – not even a lesser priest. Among the religious rituals of Israel, there always needed to be a liaison or mediator between God and man. There were priests to take the animals and make the sacrifice; animals to bear our sins so that we could be clean again and have another chance to get it right. There always needed to be someone to act as a go-between because our own sinful nature kept us from going before God and his perfection.

When the veil was torn, it signified the end of the era where we needed a priest to go before God and cover our sins. Jesus, himself, became our everlasting sacrifice, our mediator and intercessor. God can now look upon us and no longer see our sin, but see the blood of his Son which covers us and atones for our sins. Now, the really cool result of that is, in layman’s terms, I don’t need a priest or pastor or minister or anyone else to go before God on my behalf. I can go to him MYSELF. And I gotta tell you – that realization excites me! If ever there was a gospel that needs to be told, that needs to be revealed, it is that one! I can go straight to God – cut out the middleman. And guess what? He wants us to do so! Otherwise, he would have left the veil intact. This is the real and true good news. Jesus died to make God available to you. This means YOU, regular Joe, can go directly to God.

This was an extension of Jesus’ ministry, in a way. While he walked this earth, Jesus didn’t traffic with the religious leaders of his day. As a matter of fact, he shunned the Pharisees and Sadducees in favor of just regular folks. I think they were rejected because they acted like they had it all together. “Those who are well have no need of a doctor,” Jesus said. Those self-righteous leaders didn’t have a need for a savior who could restore them to a right standing with God. According to them, they were already in good with God. Talking to them would have been akin to some of the conversations we have today with someone who knows-it-all. You can barely get a word in edgewise because they keep claiming “I know!” Sometimes I wonder what Jesus would do if he walked this earth today – would he hang out with the recognized “Christian” folks? Hmmm. Better yet – would some of us “Christians” even recognize or acknowledge him? Double hmmm…

So - am I advocating that we boycott church on this Easter/Resurrection Sunday – just chuck it all and become our own HIGH PRIEST? No, church has its place – so go, by all means. Go because you love to dress up and want to be seen. Go because you love the pomp and circumstance. Go because you see the beauty in the ceremonies. And go because you love the worship. Go because you feel the need for fellowship. But know, even in doing so, that God is not found only there. He put the means of salvation in place because he wants his children back. He wants to be in a relationship with us. He will meet you wherever you are and you can fellowship with and worship him directly. He’s provided that avenue and direct route to himself because he wants to converse with us, as he did in the beginning. Before original sin, before the fall, he walked in the garden in the cool of the day and he spoke with his children. And they saw him face to face. So Jesus' death restores us to that right standing with God, it gives us back the rights and privileges that had been revoked.

RESTORATION simply means we can be his sons and daughters again, no longer separated from him by sin. When Jesus completed his task, which was to die for us, he said “It is finished,” because it was so completely and thoroughly DONE. Ladies and gents, it was “a wrap,” so to speak. Nothing else needed to accompany that action. So I get excited, knowing I have a Father that I can go to with all of my needs. I get excited knowing that he will hear me and answer me as any good Father would do. I get excited just to know that I can go directly to him – I can go boldly before his throne and obtain mercy and forgiveness whenever needed. I don’t have to wait until Sunday or until I get to church or until someone anoints me with oil or sprinkles holy water on me or lays hands on me to pray for me. I don’t even have to get the pastor on the phone or schedule a personal consultation in his office. I don’t need to ask the spiritual warriors if they can “get a prayer through!” Since I am no longer “at enmity with God,” I can cry to him “Abba, Father!” He will hear me and come to my rescue. And he will hear you, too. THAT is good news worth sharing.

Be blessed,

Loria

Armageddon

2011-03-28T09:21:00.000-07:00

“… but a crushed spirit who can bear?” (Proverbs 18:14)

“There can be only One…” The Highlander movie, 1986.

Japan had an earthquake … followed by a tsunami … followed by the meltdown of their nuclear reactors. For some, it merely felt like the end of the world. For some folks in Japan, it actually was. Nature had gone haywire, leaving a path of destruction. Lives lost, homes lost, a nuclear disaster on the horizon. The earthquake and subsequent tsunami in Japan has the attention of the world as we look on in horror. We’ve watched the videos and the devastation is heartbreaking. Tragedy makes bedfellows of us all. We see their pain and feel helpless. We think what if that were us and we know that we have no defense. For how can we defend against nature?

For most, fear began to set in - like it usually does in the aftermath of such events – as we look for answers. We want to be comforted. We want our illusion of security back. We want to believe (and hope) that such calamity will never come our way. We fear we will not be ready if it does in two senses – we’ll be ill prepared to protect ourselves and we're not ready to meet our Maker. Most folks fool themselves into believing that there is no God, but times like these can shake us out of our complacency and make us consider, just for the moment, what if?

Of course, end-of- the-world theories and scenarios abound. When a natural disaster of this magnitude strikes, people speculate on the deeper meaning. Even people who don’t believe begin to latch onto scriptures and prophecies and try to connect the dots. The go-to scripture at a time like this, the one guaranteed to strike fear in our hearts, is the one that mentions “wars and rumors of wars … earthquakes in diverse places … famine.” (Mark 13:7-8) We consult our checklist: Wars? Check. Earthquakes and natural disasters? Check. Famine and disease? Check. We ask ourselves – is this a disaster of biblical proportions? Does this mean that “The End” is near?

Now it’s true – these are signs of our times but this has been pretty much true for every generation. So while these events are scary in and of themselves, they are not an absolute indicator of our impending demise. Most folks completely skip over the part where Jesus says, when we see these things “do not be alarmed” and this is “just the beginning of birth pains.” In other words, THE END is not yet near. So what is really going on?

Recently, my friend’s beloved grandfather and true patriarch of her family passed and she asked the question – WHY? Why him – he was a good man. Why him – he never hurt anyone. Why did he have to get sick – why did he have to die? And I answered her with the same answer I gave to my children when they began to have fears about death: We are all sick – sin sick, that is. That’s the why of it. Babies die. Teenagers die. Really good people die. Since sin was introduced into the world, it has consequences that we all must pay. Namely, that a body created to live forever, instead must die at some point. Long life is not guaranteed to any of us. People die – no one knows the when, why or the how of their demise. Most people cannot prepare for death – it takes many suddenly. What’s so important is what we do with the time we are allowed to be here.

That answered my friend’s question – but did you know that our world is sick, too? When God gave the land of Canaan to the Israelites, he did so with a condition. The Canaanites had become so vile and repugnant that they caused the land to sin. God ejected them in favor of the Israelites but warned the new caretakers: if you do the same, the land will reject you, too. (Leviticus 18:25) And that is what we have happening to this day. Creation is sick because of the things we do to each other, the lives we live, the disregard and disrespect for God and our fellow man. It can’t be fixed by recycling – that’s just a symptom of our problems. Because of our sins the land wants to reject mankind, spew us out, and vomit us up. Sin entered the scene and destroyed the perfection of God’s world. Now, like us, all creation is diseased and is groaning for redemption (Romans 8:22-23). It yearns to be restored to its original sinless state. And that is the real culprit behind Japan’s tsunami and all such natural disasters.

So what can we do to be made safe in times like these? How can we feel secure in a world that has no security? When I first struck out on my own, it was frightening to me. I had lived a pretty sheltered life. I’d always lived at home so I didn’t know what it was to truly take care of myself, by myself. Throw two kids into the equation and I was terrified. Not only did I have to take care of me, I had to take care of them. Wow. How would I keep us safe at night? Who would keep away the bad? Terrible scenarios played out in my mind. We would need a dog and a smoke alarm with a carbon monoxide detector and maybe even an alarm, too. I felt the pressure to keep us safe. In this, I could not fail because my kids, who were innocent, were counting on me.

But then it occurred to me: Who is the One that always keeps me safe? Who’s been keeping me safe all these years? Who keeps my kids when I am not around, when they are not in my sight? While they are away at school? Who keeps us at night when we are sleeping and senseless? I used to panic when I heard tornado sirens during the day until I realized that the same sirens go off at night while I’m sleeping and I’ve slept right through them. I didn’t know enough to be afraid – I didn’t even know I was in danger. There are dangers everywhere, seen and unseen, but there is One who keeps me when I don’t even realize I need to be kept.

When I want to feel safe in a world that's gone crazy, I go to the One who made it and made me, too. He is my safety and security. He is my shelter. I run to his arms. In my mind, I picture these huge, MASSIVE biceps surrounding me – arms that I know are big enough to shelter me from anything. He longs to shield us all “as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings,” (Matthew 23:37) so I can count on him to keep me safe. And even if he doesn’t, even if calamity should touch my life, I know that He is still able. That gives me a measure of peace.

Be blessed,

Loria

Legacy

2011-03-01T18:44:00.000-08:00

“…Teach them to your children and to their children after them.” Deuteronomy 4:9

Recently, a friend posed a question on Face Book that made me think: What is your legacy? I used to think my children were my legacy and counted on them to keep my memory alive. Then I became a writer and realized that was another way to keep my memories alive. Words are powerful – it’s how this world was formed. Words become our reality. Before there was the written word, there was the spoken word. Histories and family traditions were handed down orally, passed from generation to generation. It’s how our Bible was created – it was spoken and handed down well before it ever became a written account. It’s how Alex Haley was able to trace his Roots – an old African told stories of his homeland, his capture and subsequent enslavement and taught them to his children. And, it’s also how my own parents instilled in me the wisdom of their generation which I am now able to pass to my own children.

Of course, I’m having about as much success with that as my parents had with me, LOL! It’s hit and miss at times, but I have hope that the seed I have sown will eventually take root in them as it inevitably did with me. My parents set the example in that they never stopped trying to reach me, never stopped talking to me and never stopped trying to impart that wisdom to me. No matter how stubbornly I rejected their teachings, they kept at it. So much so, that their words are still with me to this day. This is their legacy to me. It’s how they live on in me. It’s how they are immortalized. For as long as I live, they will live on.

“Longevity has its place.” Dr. Martin Luther King

When I was a young girl, I had a science teacher that told our class that our bodies were created to live forever. Our cells constantly regenerate. In theory, they should continue to regenerate cells of the same caliber, like for like, forever. But at some point, for no apparent reason, the cells create older versions of themselves, beginning the aging process. Some cells even get sick, regenerating in an abnormal fashion and turning against the body, resulting in diseases like cancer and leukemia. A healthy immune system will suddenly run amok and fight the body. Science has no explanation for why the normal regeneration process, that should keep us young and healthy forever, suddenly goes awry.

The answer lies in the beginning. We were created to live forever, initially. God created the heavens and the earth. For seven days he labored. The sun, moon and stars were formed; lakes, rivers and the creatures that dwell therein; birds that fly in the air and walk on the ground, vegetation to feed the animals that tread upon the earth. And then, there was the crowning pinnacle of His achievement – Man – created to have dominion over and to be a caretaker of the earth.

Then came the fall of mankind - Adam and Eve sinned by disobeying God and brought trouble upon us all. They believed the lies of the Serpent and God revoked the whole “eternal life” thing by forbidding them access to the Tree of Life. But the desire to live forever, to create something that survives the passage of time, still lives in each of us. It is inherent in our DNA. It’s why we have children. It’s in why we create businesses and dynasties. Or why we have statues erected in our names and plaques to memorialize our achievements. It’s also why you’ll see a message carved in a desk or on a tree: “Jane loves Jim” or “Max was here.” We want someone to know that we lived, that we “were here” and to not forget us. We want to live on.

Some folks, like the poor misguided young man who went on a shooting spree in Arizona, leaving several people dead and critically injuring Congresswoman Giffords, think that they have to kill someone or commit mass murder to make sure they are remembered. They are so afraid that their life will be meaningless, that they will leave this world and be completely forgotten that they carry out some insane plot to ensure their place in history and secure their fifteen minutes of fame. But there is a more positive way to leave your world better for your existence.

“… All the widows stood around him, crying and showing him the robes and other clothing that Dorcas had made while she was still with them.” Acts 9:39

Dorcas (aka Tabitha) became sick and died. The believers were distraught; they mourned her passing and showed the Apostle Peter all the wonderful things she had created, with love, by her very own hands. These were tangible evidence of her good works. This was her ministry and her legacy. It was how she would best be remembered. How would you like to impact the world around you? What can you do to leave your imprint or make your mark in this world? How would you like to be remembered? What Dorcas did was relatively small but, in her world, it made her memorable. As Mother Theresa once said, "Not all of us can do great things. But we can do small things with great love." We can create a legacy and live on through our actions.

Another FB friend recently decided that she would create her own personal ministry of encouragement to others. She just wanted to be that person to bless someone “on purpose.” I admired her effort because she was seeking to change her world and the people around her by bringing a positive spirit and influence into their lives. She spoke a wonderful blessing over me that touched me – for no other reason than just because she could. I think I will always remember that about her. And that is how we leave our mark – we leave the people around us better for having known us. It’s that simple.

I think what my parents did for me was done in a purposeful way, keeping in mind the kind of adult they wanted to produce and unleash upon the world. It was also done to prepare me to face some of life’s trials and tribulations. And it also happened to create a lasting legacy in me. So I write because I feel the same burden and responsibility to pass it on to the next generation and so that my own children will do the same. As my brother recently put it, “When you are an inspiration, you have an obligation!”

So ask yourself – what can I do? How do I want to be remembered? What can I do to create a lasting legacy? I think that whatever you do, as long as you do with a spirit of love, no matter how great or small an act, you won’t have a problem being remembered. We can live our lives “on purpose,” keeping in mind the kind of final result we want to achieve and how we want to be perceived. To paraphrase Queen “Who wants to live (on) forever?” I think we all do.

Be blessed,

Loria

Ten

2011-02-09T07:05:00.000-08:00

“So, because you are lukewarm--neither hot nor cold--I am about to spit you out of my mouth.” Revelation 3:16

“Pump up the volume, pump up the volume, pump up the volume – dance, dance!” M.A.R.R.S.

I reached out and adjusted the volume on the car radio, turning the volume down. My kids shrieked in objection, as usual. My son asked, “Do you even want to hear the song?” Yes, I did but it was too loud – it assaulted my ears. In the words of Mr. Brown from Meet the Browns: “It’s too murch, Cora! Too murch!”

This is a dilemma many of us find ourselves in – how do we walk that fine line between enough and too much? Sadly, many of us decide to stay firmly on the side of just barely enough, giving our mediocre effort. Maybe that’s fine for your life but it’s not okay when it comes to your service to God. He requires, he demands that you give him your all, your highest and best in all that you do concerning him. Frequently, I’ve been disappointed when I've seen how many people have yielded to the “that’s good enough” mentality when it comes to serving God. I think to myself, how can that ever be true? How can it ever be enough? For David, too much was not enough as he danced himself right out of his clothing while giving God his highest praise!

In being afraid to do too much, we sometimes cheat God. He doesn’t deserve our mediocre effort, he deserves our best. God, himself, said to the Israelites through the prophet Malachi: Present your diseased animals to your governors and see if they will like it! In other words, try giving to your royalty, princes and dignitaries what you give to me. Give them less than honorable gifts, less than perfect sacrifices and try to pass it off as good. See if they will thank you for it! Neither does God appreciate less than our best.

Love me - love me with your whole heart,

He wants it all today.

Serve me – serve me with your life now.

He wants it all today.

Bow down, let go of your idols

He wants it all today – so give it all … (Forever Jones)

I recall the story of a conversation between Michael Jordan and his father. Michael was having trouble being accepted by his teammates. Sure, he was scoring triple doubles and racking up all kinds of accolades for himself but his team wasn’t winning. They resented him for his talents and it caused him to hold back because he didn’t want to make enemies. So he asked his father for advice, “Dad – should I play like I know I can play?” And the answer came back from his father, “Play like you know you can play.” In other words, you shouldn’t have to squash who you are just to get along with others. If they can’t handle your talents and abilities, that is their issue. Marianne Williamson put it best: Your playing small doesn’t serve the world. When you shine you give others permission to shine. And that is exactly what happened in the case of MJ and the Chicago Bulls – rather than continue to resent him, the other players had to step up their game and they went on to win six championships.

Patti LaBelle had a similar story of being asked to squash her essence, just to accommodate others. Patti once appeared on the Oprah show with Gladys Knight and Dionne Warwick. Just before going on stage to perform, Dionne pulled Patti to the side and asked if she could “tone it down” because she sang too loud. Patti was being asked to be less. But how would that keep her true to herself? God gave her a big voice and big talent to be USED. I think that when you use your gifts to the utmost, you honor the God who gave them to you.

When I first began to truly sing, I was so fearful. I was afraid of how my best would be perceived. Afraid that people would think I was doing “too much.” Fearful that others would think I was grandstanding, showboating, or trying to outshine someone else. So I squashed who I was, essentially, in an effort to keep and win friends. I was afraid that if I sang like I knew I could sing people wouldn't like me. As Helen Baylor sang, “We all wanna be loved!” I didn’t want to make any enemies. I squashed myself and kept my true talents and abilities hidden. But one day I realized, people still didn’t really like me! And I thought, “Since they don’t like me anyway, I may as well do what I want to do!” I decided to sing like I’d always wanted to sing. Something wonderful resulted from that decision. People respected me. Then they actually liked me. And I realized I did them a disservice all that time – how could they like me when they had never met the real me?

Now, I have a phrase I like to call, “Loria, on TEN!” It’s me, only better. It’s me to the 10^th degree. It’s me, without reservation, no holds barred. It’s me, operating at my highest and best, using my gifts to the fullest capacity in a way that honors God. It’s not me competing with you, but me competing with me to give God my highest praise in making the most of the gift he has entrusted to me. This is one area where I have no problem cranking up the volume as high as it can go!

Sadly, when you operate on this level, it may not win you many friends. Likely, it will create some enemies. As the Fairy Godmother said to Cinderella, “They just can’t handle how fabulous you are!” But, I would like to think that more people are encouraged and empowered by the example of my life than those who are offended. So then, why are people offended when you operate fully in your gifts? I have a theory. I think it’s due to two reasons: One, they are not comfortable in their own gifts. They hold back out of fear and seek to put the same limitations on you. The second reason may be that they are fearful of moving out of their comfort zone. When you operate on a fearless level, it challenges them to do the same. Some people react differently to that challenge – some rise to it and others attempt to hold you back so that they never have to come up to a higher level. As my older sister put it, “Don’t ask me to dress down, YOU DRESS UP! Don’t ask me to come down to your level; come up to mine.”

My daughter once gave this testimony of a friend and fellow soloist. When this young lady initially came on the scene, my daughter was a bit resentful and resistant. But as time passed, she was so grateful for this young soloist because she challenged my daughter to elevate her own singing. Performing with this young lady made my daughter a better singer. And so it is with all challenges. If we rise to it, it can only make us better. My daughter learned what my baby sister and I discovered long ago – that the true ability of a star is to shine among other stars. So we don’t need to worry that another star will dim our own ability to shine. Scripture exhorts, telling us that we are the light of the world and we are to let our light shine for all to see. So I encourage you, I challenge you to crank your own level all the way up “on TEN.” In the process, you may just elevate the people all around you.

Be blessed,

Loria

Another Chance

2010-12-30T08:17:00.000-08:00

“It is of the LORD's mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not. They are new every morning: great is thy faithfulness.” Lamentations 3:22-23

When my daughter graduated from high school, her principal gave a closing address that has remained with me ever since. After acknowledging and saluting the accomplishments of the graduating class, he said to them and to us all: Now, you get to start over. Nothing that you’ve done in high school matters – whether you were at the top of your class or just barely making it. Right now, everyone has the same chance of being successful. In effect, he said, you all get the chance to be the person that you wish to be, regardless of your past. It does not have to determine your future. In other words, you get a clean slate. For me, that was profound and, what I thought, every graduating student needed to hear.

So my daughter went on to college. I don’t know if the parting words of her former principal impacted her as much as they did me but I can tell you this: the student she was in high is not the student she is in college. She’s focused, determined and she now has purpose. She’s proud of her accomplishments and rightfully so because she has succeeded where others have failed. I applaud her, I celebrate her and I’m so very proud of her, too. But more than anything, I’m grateful that she did not succumb to the desire to just give in and accept her past academic history as an indicator of the type of student she could be. She had the courage to change and for that, I appreciate her. Freshman year has become a defining moment for her. Now she knows just what she is capable of achieving. And she has become a living embodiment and illustration of her principal’s speech.

Every day we also get another chance to get it right, according to our scripture. New mercy and fresh forgiveness is reloaded for us every single day. I, for one, am infinitely grateful for the many opportunities I’ve had for a “do over." I thank God for them! The fact that I don’t have to continue to be the person that I’ve become or continue down the path that I’ve chosen is exciting to me. If I don’t like the direction my life has taken, I have the power to change it. I get to do it again, I get to it over, I get do it better. We are empowered to change. That is good news.

At this time of year, we especially recognize the need to change how we’ve done things in the past. This is our fresh start. So let us move forward with purpose, keeping in mind our ultimate goal of being better people, living better lives, with a determination to be a more positive influence on those around us. Let us resolve to impact the lives of our circle of friends, coworkers and family in such a way as to leave a legacy and a pattern for those to follow who come after us.

So Happy New Year. Happy New Start. Happy New You.

Be blessed,

Loria

The Christmas Song Cover by Ell Clark

2010-12-25T07:06:00.000-08:00

"X" Marks the Spot!

2010-12-22T16:59:00.000-08:00

“For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.” (Isaiah 9:6)

A few days before Christmas and all through the house … I had no Christmas spirit! It was depressing, actually. I had not given in to the “spend, spend, spend, buy, buy, buy,” mentality yet but I was feeling the pressure. A week before Christmas and I had not completed my Christmas shopping – in fact, I hadn’t even begun. The pressure mounted but I just wasn’t feeling the whole shopping thing. It wasn’t that I didn’t try – I went out many days with the intention of buying, only to come back empty handed. It was incredibly frustrating. Such a simple task, why couldn’t I just do it? I felt defeated by Christmas. Something was wrong.

I recalled an episode of My Wife and Kids where Michael (with Damon Wayans as the father) wound up directing the school play for his youngest daughter’s class. At the end of the production, the cast signed off with, “You put the peanut in the peanut hole!” Michael had spent most of the episode asking what that meant but the answer was obvious, at least for the kids. Where else would you put the peanut?

Then I realized the true source of my angst; there was a huge, Jesus-sized hole in my holiday. I had gotten far away from the true purpose of this day. So how did I get it back on track? How did I put Christ back in Christmas and reclaim this day for him and for me? I wanted to go on the news, shout it at the mall, go up to strangers and shake them by their shoulders and say: We’ve got it all wrong! We’re doing it all wrong! My Christmas was all out of whack. It had been hijacked and I wanted it back.

I thought about staging an intervention with my kids, to wake them up to what was going on. Problem with that was, I think they already knew. When my kids realized I just wasn’t enjoying myself they backed off with their Christmas requests. My daughter, bless her heart, actually tried to help me as much as she could. I don’t ever remember being this overwhelmed before. I was mega stressed because of shopping and my inability to just get on with it this season. My daughter said to me, gently, “Hey, Jesus is the reason for the season.” To which I responded in a depressed fashion – “No, He’s not! But he should be.” That’s when I knew – the “Bah, Humbug” spirit was in me. I couldn’t fix the world’s perspective but I could try to fix mine.

In the Transformers movie, there was one robot (in disguise, LOL), Bumble Bee, who couldn’t actually speak, except for in song. Whenever he was asked a question or wanted to make a comment, he would contribute with a relevant song from his radio. Sometimes, God speaks to me like that. He answers me in song. I had lost my focus and felt disconnected. It was like a festering wound that needed healing and a brought a song to mind: “There is a Balm in Gilead.”

So I began, very simply, by putting some Jesus on that wound. I needed healing. I needed to be reconnected to my source. I found some of my favorite gospel songs, songs that really got my spirit jumping and made me want to “Praise the name of Jesus,” ala Tramaine Hawkins. I listened to a beautiful song, full of majesty which made me want to worship – Kurt Karr’s, “Holy, Holy, Holy.” It reminded me of why I live this life, why I do what I do and why I serve him. Because he’s worthy. Because he first loved me. Because he came for me. He came to save me before I even knew I needed a savior. I began to sing along with Whitney Houston, “I love the Lord, he heard my cry …”

All week long as I shopped, not one cashier greeted me with “Merry Christmas!” It was always “Happy Holidays!” They may have been afraid to do otherwise; it's against company policy, politically incorrect, verboten, taboo. It made me think back on my childhood, remembering the signs posted at Christmas time which read “Merry Xmas!” and “Xmas sale!” Even then, there was a movement to take the focus off of the real reason why we celebrate. I thought it strange practice then and I still do now. How can we have Christmas without Christ? How can we celebrate this day, His day without inviting him in? Yet, that is what I had done. Something had replaced Christ in my Christmas. I had allowed shopping and the giving of gifts to become my primary focus.

Today, the “X” has taken on a new meaning for me. It’s become my reminder to “insert Jesus here.” Now, I feel much more laid back and relaxed about this holiday season. My problem had a very obvious solution – you put the peanut in the peanut hole! What a revelation! Ever since I regained the proper perspective and put Jesus in his rightful place, “It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas …”

Be blessed,

Loria

Fail ... NOT!

2010-11-30T16:52:00.000-08:00

“Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance.” (1 Corinthians 13:7 NLT)

“Love never fails…” (1 Corinthians 13:8 NIV)

My son. He recently changed his major but put off talking to me about it. I think he was afraid I would try to talk him out of it. Over the past few months, he distanced himself from me more and more, not talking to me and becoming defensive whenever we did speak. It seemed all we did was snap at each other. There was a real disconnect. And when we finally did talk, we talked at each other, not truly hearing the other’s side. I was hurt; he was rebellious. My son said to me, “You don’t understand!” And I thought to myself, “Of course I don’t understand, you’re not talking to me.”

My son grew increasingly frustrated with me. He gave up trying to talk to me about what was going on, labeling me as another mother who just doesn’t get it. And when he did that, he gave up on me. I guess he figured this was an acceptable part of growing up – that your mom wouldn’t be able to understand or appreciate what you’re going through. He didn’t mean anything by it. He just accepted it as he saw it – kids grow up, they move on and start their own life and the parent sometimes has a hard time letting go.

Fortunately for us both, I did not consider this situation acceptable. You wanna change your major? Sure – I support you and want you to be happy. But this not talking thing? That’s never been a part of our relationship. That had to go. I told myself I would wait him out and he would talk in his own time. I told myself I didn’t want to ruin our time together by arguing about it during the Thanksgiving holiday. I tried to get away from it and ignore it but it was the elephant in the room. I tried talking around it but I felt like I was tiptoeing around my own son.

Finally, I sat down, determined to hash it out. He initially said, “What’s the point? You don’t get it! You won’t understand! There’s no point in continuing to talk about it if the end result is going to be the same!” And that’s when it clicked for me – he gave up on me, on us and our relationship as mother and son. For him, it was an acceptable loss. Not so, for me.

I told my son, “Make me understand. Talk to me until I get it. By your own definition, insanity is continuing to do the same thing but expecting a different result. I’m hoping that if we continue to talk about it, we’ll find a different way that will give us a different result.” I realized then that I wasn’t giving up on my son or, on us. Failure was not an option. I loved him enough to continue to try to reach him. Maybe I didn’t understand but I loved him enough to try. Give up? Never.

God used that conversation with my son to illustrate a point. That, right there, was our relationship with him in a nutshell. No matter what kind of blocks we can throw up to distance ourselves, he keeps coming at us. He won’t give up. The Apostle Paul posed this question:

“Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword?” (Romans 8:35)

And then, he also gives the answer:

“For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” (Romans 8:38-39)

My son was resistant because he’d convinced himself I couldn’t relate to his situation – maybe because I’m older, maybe because I’m a woman or because I’m not a college student. I did the same to my mother when I was a young lady. She grew up during a different time and a lot had changed since she was a young woman so I discounted her. I didn’t value her advice. I came to believe, once I grew older, that she was such a wise woman. Her words came to me, time and again, and I realized just how much she understood and just how much has not changed about human nature and life in general. And I was ever so thankful that, despite how I rejected her advice then, she never stopped trying to impart that wisdom to me. She didn’t give up.

The reason why it was important for Jesus to come and live out his life on a human level, was so he could relate to us and whatever we’re going through. So there would be no walls or barriers or blocks between us and him. Nothing would be lost in translation. He lived a flesh and blood life so He could empathize. He does understand. He gets it.

“For this reason he had to be made like them, fully human in every way, in order that he might become a merciful and faithful high priest in service to God, and that he might make atonement for the sins of the people. Because he himself suffered when he was tempted, he is able to help those who are being tempted.” (Hebrews 2:17-18)

God wanted to show me on that day, he loves us and he understands. He used my dilemma with my son to connect with me and teach me a lesson. I love my son and I’ve spent time building our relationship and forging our connection. I wasn’t willing to let that go. I wasn’t willing to let it become a misunderstanding or chalk it up to our age gap. No excuses. There are things about our relationship that I recognize will have to change because he’s becoming his own man and finding his own way. But this – our ability to talk and to come to an understanding, I was not willing to sacrifice. I wanted him to always know he can talk to me and if I don’t understand, I’ll surely try. I’ll keep on trying until we find common ground.

The parent-child relationship is a foreshadow of the relationship God yearns to have with us. God drew the parallel between my relationship with my son and His relationship with me. And the message was the same as I gave my son: I love you. Let me in. Don't shut me out. Talk to me. I don't want to lose what we have. I don't want to lose you. Because God loves us, giving up is not an option. He’s gonna keep trying to reach us by any and all means necessary. His love won't fail; his love is persistent. He'll keep on trying because there is so much to gain and too much to lose.

Be blessed,

Loria

The Divine

2010-10-27T16:04:00.000-07:00

“But if you do not forgive men their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins.” (Matthew 6:15)

“To err is human, to forgive divine.” Alexander Pope

Jesus told a story of a rich man who decided to call in the debts that were owed to him. One of his servants owed a huge sum that he couldn’t pay, so the master ordered his property and family seized to settle the debt. The servant begged for more time and his master had mercy, canceling the debt entirely. Some time later, this same servant came upon a fellow co-worker who owed him a paltry (in comparison) sum. He seized his co-worker by the throat and demanded payment. The co-worker pleaded for more time but was denied and thrown into prison. How quickly the servant forgot that just a short time ago, he needed forgiveness.

With the holiday season so nearly upon us, I find myself skipping right over Halloween and looking forward to my favorite holiday, Thanksgiving. I love it because the focus is mainly on the meal and sharing it with family and friends. It’s like Christmas without the month long prelude of shopping; without all the hustle and bustle. It allows us to get together and just enjoy each others’ company.

One Thanksgiving some years ago, I was inspired to hold a pre-holiday dinner for the homeless. My family and friends pitched in to help and the event was considered a great success. It was even attended by the media. The food was delicious, the children helped to serve and we all felt good because, for a short time, we’d helped to alleviate the suffering of our fellow man. I was very pleased with our efforts, largely because I felt I’d obeyed the will of God. I was especially thankful for the help of the fellow introduced to me by my sister. He'd arranged for the press release so I'd promised to the return the favor on Thanksgiving Day by serving dinner to the homeless in his area.

As I prepared our dinner on Thanksgiving, I thought about my brother. I wondered if he even had a special dinner on this day. He wasn’t homeless but he wasn’t doing well. He and life just did not seem to get along. As a result, he was kind of down and out. Mostly due to some poor choices earlier in his life, he and I were estranged. But his house was on the way to my destination. Could I drive past his house and offer comfort and hope to people I didn’t even know, while not doing the same for my own brother?

The answer was no, I decided. So I prepared his meal and took it by his apartment. He was surprised and happy to see me, pleased that I’d thought of him. And I was able to serve dinners to the homeless with a clean conscience and not feel like a hypocrite. Looking back, that was the defining moment – the bridge towards forgiveness. It gave my brother hope and let him know, despite our separation, he was my brother and I still loved him.

My brother and I had a rocky relationship later in life but we started out really close. My earliest memories of him are when he would bring me out before his friends and have me dance for them. Imagine me as a child, the unabashed performer. I also recall the time my brother took a beat down for my sake. Some neighborhood thugs accosted me and my friends on our way to school. While they didn’t harm us physically, we were somewhat traumatized by the experience. I went home and told my mother. My brother overheard and met me after school so that I could point out the offender. I did.

My brother confronted the guy, probably thinking he was alone. A fight broke out and I, er, ran home. In retrospect, I guess I should have stayed – I mean, he was fighting to defend my honor, right? In my defense, I was afraid of the guy. He’d already terrorized me once that day! Plus, I thought my brother, being five years older, knew what he was doing. Soon after I got home, my brother came in crying, looking bedraggled and upset because I’d left him to fight alone. Honestly, what could I have done against a group of guys? Even though my brother was upset because I didn’t help him, I knew he would do it again. He would risk bodily harm to protect his siblings.

As we grew older, our relationship became strained. We fought frequently, until we could barely tolerate one another. He did some things I felt were unforgiveable. It was the elephant in the room, this thing between us that we never spoke about. I always held it against him. I never let him forget.

One day, this scripture came to me: “…whosoever sins ye retain, they are retained." (John 20:23) I thought to myself – what if his life, once so full of promise, had stalled because of me? What if he was treading water, never able to get ahead, never able to move on because I was keeping him bound to that place with my unforgiveness? It hurt to think I had that kind of power. Whatever our issues, I didn’t want that. On the heels of that revelation came another alarming realization. If I can’t forgive him, how can I expect forgiveness? That hit closer home. Now, I had added incentive to let go of the past.

Little by little, I began to reach out to my brother, or at least, respond to his overtures. I was still wary, still cautious and looking for the first sign that he would exploit any perceived weakness. I waited for him to push in asking for too much or for more than I wanted to give. But, he didn’t. He seemed to understand that I was giving him another chance and was looking for an opportunity to bolt. I think he'd finally realized that trust was fragile and didn’t want to abuse it.

Still fearful, I took baby steps. If he had a genuine need, he let me know and I did what I could to make his life a little easier. He began to go to church and attend bible study. He even joined the choir! He admitted that he couldn’t sing and I couldn’t help but agree. It felt like, slowly, he was putting his life back together. Sometimes, we would stop and visit him on the way home from church – my mom, the kids and I. And one day, I was rewarded for my efforts. I saw the brother of my childhood, again. He stood before me, clear eyed and saw me. For a moment, we were little sister and big brother, again. It was a wonderful feeling. As we drove home, I shared with my children, “I just saw my brother!” I’m sure they didn’t understand what that meant but I hadn’t seen him in twenty years.

My brother died, not long after that meeting, due to complications of surgery. I was glad that I’d forgiven him and was able to truly mourn his passing. It occurred to me that we are all seeking forgiveness in one way or another. We want to atone for our sins, our wrongdoing. Not just because society or the Bible says it’s wrong but because we, ourselves, feel it’s wrong. Our conscience tells us so. It doesn’t sit well with us.

We all have power, when you think about it. Power to bind someone forever with unforgiveness to a place in time that they would be free of. Power to forgive and let go and maybe give them a shot at living a better life and becoming a better person. I sometimes jokingly say, “Only use your powers for good,” but it’s true. We all have the power to be just a little bit divine.

Be blessed,

Loria

What's in a Name?

2010-10-14T07:13:00.000-07:00

“The name of the LORD is a strong tower; the righteous man runs into it and is safe.” Proverbs 18:10

“Inconceivable!” Vizzini

“You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.” Inigo Montoya, The Princess Bride

Once, I was invited to speak on “The Promises of God.” It was the first time I could remember being asked to speak outside of my own church. I was hesitant in accepting but had great respect and admiration for the one who issued the invitation. I accepted, thinking, if she had faith that I could do it, the least I could do was agree with her! So I researched and began to prepare to teach on this ambitious topic and I found that His names are promises. They tell us much about his character, who he is and how much we can rely on him.

My search yielded well known names: Jehovah Jireh – The Lord as provider. Jehovah Shalom – The Lord as peace. Jehovah Rapha – The Lord as healer. The second word modifies his personal name and reveals character traits. El Shaddai, one of my favorites, means God Almighty or “The Big Breasted One.” Actually, it’s masculine in nature, more like “chest”. The image sprang to my mind of God as my superhero, able to leap tall problems in a … well, you get the idea. What surprised me was that the “God” part of the name could often be found in the smallest section – “El.” As in, Bethel (house of God) and Emmanuel (God with us). Kind of like the “Je” in Jesus or “Jo” in Joshua or “Ye” in Yeshua (The Lord saves). I learned to follow the clues to find his names. When you see LORD in all capital letters, it denotes God’s personal name, Yahweh or Jehovah, which is thought to be related to the Hebrew verb, “to be” and closely akin to “I AM.” For me, it was fascinating stuff! I loved learning about his names and uncovering his promises.

One name, though, stuck with me more than any other for it told me the most about Him: I AM. This was the name he gave Moses and how he chose to reveal himself to the Israelites. But it didn’t make sense. “I AM” is not a name but the beginning of a sentence. It was confusing. And then I got it - Oh! *FACEPALM* It was so simple that it took a child’s mentality to understand it: “I AM,” fill-in-the-blank. “I AM,” insert-problem-here. “I AM,” anything and everything you need me to be! That’s how he wants us to know him. That’s why he revealed himself as such. He gave himself that name, showing himself to a people in need because he wanted to fulfill that need. He wants us to know he stands ready, even now - no matter the need, whatever the problem. “I AM” here for you!

I had a dear uncle – Pap, is what we used to call him. Uncle Pap was my mother’s brother and very much a fixture in our household as we grew up. During that time, he grew to be my father’s good friend and confidante. They spent many hours in our basement, talking and working on their latest home improvement project. Pap practically lived with us a lot of the time. Even when he went home, it was only for a short time and then he was back at our house again. He was needed. He was good company, an excellent cook (cornbread!) and a good male presence. He was steady and dependable; faithful.

Time passed. We grew up, got married, and had children. Our father passed and the family began to disperse. We moved out, one by one, to build our own lives and seek our own fortunes, so my mother moved on with us. Pap continued to come and support her, staying with her until the final moving day. My brother reported to me how very lost Pap looked on that day. He had been such a constant in our lives that it hadn’t occurred to me, until then, that we were just as big a part of his life. So I reached out to him and he came to visit me and my family. Being a farmer all his life, Pap helped to plant vegetable gardens at my home, my sister's home and his daughter’s home. He got a big kick out of it for he was in high demand and was kept busy shuffling back and forth. He was a welcome and major part in all our lives and became as firmly entrenched in our households as he had been in our mother’s.

We looked forward to his visits. My children thought of him as a grandfather and I valued his company. I spent many hours talking with him, just as my father did before me. One day, Pap said to me, “Just like me and your daddy was, that’s how you and me is. Whatever you need, if I can do it, Pap’ll do it for you.” Wow. I was touched. Not because I needed anything. Pap was treasured. He didn’t have to do anything in my home, just be. But I appreciated the sentiment. I never took my uncle up on his offer but he found ways to help me in his own way - from helping me plant my garden to being a grandfather for my kids. I wouldn’t have asked so whenever he saw a need, he stepped up to fill the vacancy. I see God in this, for when Pap verbalized his desire to be the one I could turn to, he was ultimately fulfilling the will of the ONE who really desired to be The Great I AM in my life. Pap wanted me to know that he would be there for me, in whatever capacity, if I needed him. He also recognized his own limitations and put qualifiers on his offer, “If I can do it, I will.”

It occurred to me recently, that God is saying the same thing but without the limitations. He didn’t put qualifiers on it and say “maybe” or “if I can.” He boldly declared himself to be the One who could and would fulfill our needs. His name tells us, he will take care of us, just as he did the Israelites and our ancestors. And my father and mother and grandmother. He has said simply, in effect: I AM the one you can turn to in a time of need. A God without limitations, that’s who we serve.

We have limitations. Sometimes we are limited by time or physically. Sometimes we are limited because of our mindset. But, as hard as it is to grasp, He is limitless in his ability. Inconceivable, we may think. Yet, it is. Otherwise, how can we embrace miracles that happen every day? Thirty-three Chilean miners were trapped underground longer than anyone in recorded history, since August 5^th. Today, they are free. Inconceivably. Recalling recent mining accidents, I know they don’t always have a happy ending. As one of the miners, Mario Sepulveda, put it, "I think I had extraordinary luck. I was with God and with the devil. And I reached out for God.” In choosing God, he had to believe that God could be his solution. God could be just the remedy that was needed. In reaching out for God, he had to believe that God could fulfill his promises.

Be blessed,

Loria

The Bucket List

2010-10-06T12:28:00.000-07:00

For all flesh is as grass, and all the glory of man as the flower of grass. The grass withers, and the flower thereof falls away.” 1 Peter 1:24

Man is like a breath; his days are like a fleeting shadow. Psalm 144:4

I was recently interviewed by a co-worker for our monthly newsletter. During our session, she posed the question: Name something that you’ve always wanted to do but have put off for years. “You mean, like a bucket list?” I asked. “Yes,” she responded. I thought about it for a few moments and then realized – I don’t really have a list of unfulfilled desires anymore. I usually get to clear out my "to do" list during my Birthday Year. That's when I give myself permission to pursue anything and everything.

Every so often I get the urge to celebrate beyond my actual birthday. It’s not a specific year, like say, every five years or years ending in zero or even multiples of ten. I just have to feel the need. I may feel antsy or decide it’s time to challenge myself. That’s when I declare my Birthday Year and pledge to celebrate all year long. The funny thing is, I don’t usually do anything BIG or over-the-top (like bungee jumping - I’ll never understand THAT), or very expensive. I just try my hand at anything I have a mind to do. Maybe it’s because I try the silly things that I find the nerve to do bigger things.

My mom is a woman who always challenged herself. Where her family was concerned, she was always thinking about how she could be a better mother and be more of what we needed her to be. She always wanted more for her children than she had. She didn’t get hugs and kisses or encouragement growing up, so she made sure that we got plenty to break that cycle. Even into her eighties, she was a woman who instigated change in our family relationships. “Talk to me,” she’d say. She wanted to continue to grow and keep up with us and our needs as our world changed. I still cringe when I remember the time she watched Oprah and decided we needed to have a conversation about me and my biological clock! She was not a woman set in her ways but ever evolving.

I, too, found my inspiration in Oprah. I haven’t watched her show in years but I have kept up with her transformation and how she continues to reinvent herself. I watched with the nation as she exercised and punished her body until she declared herself to be in the best condition ever. I watched while she trained for marathons and her body morphed until you could bounce a quarter on her stomach. I sighed, “One day…” I remember thinking and looking forward to the day when I could pursue my own desires and interests. But then my birthday came and it dawned on me: Half of my life could be already gone. One day is here! Although I'm still in my prime, how long that will last? I’d spent potentially half of my life waiting for “One Day” to arrive. I thought about my own mortality and recognized the need for a metamorphosis of my own.

That was my very first Birthday Year – in it, I did everything I ever wanted to do, not putting it off any longer. That was the year I lost 60 pounds through exercise, alone. I took up roller skating with my children - hadn’t been on them since I was a kid but I’d always wanted to try it again. (I was afraid that if I fell I wouldn’t be able to get back up!) I decided I wanted to learn Spanish so I went to the library and picked up some tapes on conversational Spanish, practicing with a helpful co-worker. Anything that popped into my head that year was as good as done. Just because. I felt the need to indulge myself instead of denying myself. “Just do it!” became my motto.

The year I spent celebrating my birthday yielded some wonderful results. Instead of worrying about the time I had left, I began to live. I rediscovered me, becoming more than just wife, mother, church attendee and employee. I became more ME. I enjoyed it so much that whenever my birthday comes now, I re-evaluate my life and see if it needs shaking up. Usually by the time the year is over, I’m ready to get off the ride. Birthday Years are hard work! It’s exhausting to keep challenging myself. I rise to each occasion and I learn something about myself in the process. I come out of the experience exuberant and triumphant.

I found that roller skating didn’t lead to broken limbs and although I never did learn how to dance on skates, I did make my way around the rink without doing major bodily damage. Even when I fell, I found I was able to get back up. Every time I did, I felt a little less breakable and more resilient. I found my mind was just as capable of learning as it ever has been. I picked up enough Spanish to converse with my co-worker on a basic level but all I remember now is, “palomitas quemadas” because she used to burn her microwave popcorn. And I found out, like Oprah, it is impossible to sustain that kind of weight loss unless you spend hours at the gym AND change your eating habits.

My birthday is also a special time because I choose that day to reflect on my life, the past year and my accomplishments. This month marks the one year anniversary of “The Word in My Life.” Five years ago, this month, I purchased my first home on my own and I’m still there. That, in itself, is cause for celebration. Four years ago, I began a new job – since then, I’ve gained recognition and created my very own job title. This is the time I hold myself accountable because I know one day, God will.

Tomorrow is my birthday and once again, I find myself in the position of starting all over. I am, as I was in the beginning, alone. But this time, it thrills and excites me. It feels like it deserves something “a little more extraordinary” ala Bridget Jones Diary. It calls out to me; murmuring, Birthday Year. I’ve tried to fight the urge but I feel it bubbling up inside of me, crying out for release. The suggestion dances in my head because it knows the time is near. It rises to a crescendo - Birthday Year! I can no longer resist the pull; I finally give in – BIRTHDAY YEAR! YEAH!!!!!!! Let the celebration begin! Toot the horns! Toss the confetti! Once more with feeling: HAPPY BIRTHDAY YEAR TO ME!!!!!!

Be blessed,

Loria

Sign of the Times

2010-09-22T08:49:00.000-07:00

"But the Israelites were fruitful and multiplied greatly and became exceedingly numerous, so that the land was filled with them. Then a new king, who did not know about Joseph, came to power in Egypt.”

(Exodus 1:7-8)

"Do what you can, with what you have, where you are." Theodore Roosevelt

When my kids were about eight and nine years old, one of them said to me, “Mom, when I turn eighteen, I’m moving out.” I froze. “Really? You’re gonna leave me? Why?” The last question was more of a whine. This conversation was about ten years premature and I didn’t want to think about it, even then. I geared myself up to lay on the guilt, heavy and thick because I didn’t want my baby to LEAVE me. But then, my child stopped me with one question: “Aren’t we supposed to?” Which made me think: “Ok, yeah – if I do my job right, raise them to adulthood and teach them how to take care of themselves and be responsible citizens, they‘re supposed to move out and be on their own. Then they can raise their own successful families.” It could be viewed, I reasoned, as a measure of success, maturity and growth. So successful parenting meant encouraging my children to grow up and get out there on their own, not trying to keep them suspended forever THERE, as my babies. Growth is a natural progression. You’re supposed to move on after you’ve absorbed all that you can from that experience.

A phrase I’ve heard bandied about for some time is, “Bloom where you’re planted.” It means you can grow or increase, right where you are. You can flourish; you can create and go on to that next level or become something else, all within your current situation. In essence, it means, you work with what you’ve got. And that’s true, but only up to a point; this mentality can actually stunt your growth. Think about it – a potted plant can only grow so much before having to be moved to a bigger pot. There’s a limit to how much you can grow where you are. Many of us have become complacent and stationary, spinning our wheels, treading water. We find ourselves in situations that no longer fit our lives or enable us to use our gifts and talents. We allow ourselves to be chained in relationships that are no longer healthy. We get frustrated and wonder why everything is a struggle. It’s because we have become stagnant. But we resist growth because there is a very real fear that we could potentially outgrow something or someone. And that frightens us because once you've outgrown your situation, it's time to change your situation.

There’s that word again. Change is scary. It’s out of our comfort zone. We fight to hold on to life as we know it because change can also be painful. Who wants to change? I mentioned this to my sister one day and she was surprised by my attitude. After all, I AM the ADVOCATE for change! But, I fear change as much as the next person. It’s just that I’ve realized I am fighting a losing battle. Change is the way of life. It’s like a freight train. It’s coming and there’s little you can do about it, except to make up your mind how you’re gonna deal with it. When I see that change is inevitable, I see two choices left to me: Get on board with it or get run over by it! After my initial resistance, I usually enter a stage of acceptance. Once you accept that things are changing, you can move forward.

The Israelites faced a similar predicament. When Joseph relocated his family to Egypt to avoid famine, he’d moved them into a situation that would bless them. The Pharaoh had great respect for Joseph and the God that he served. So he made Joseph his second-in-command and later urged Joseph to move his family to Egypt. The Pharaoh even gave them their own territory. It was a very generous offer. But there came a time when a new Pharaoh rose to power. He didn’t acknowledge the God of Israel, let alone recognize their favored position as Joseph’s descendants. He saw the Israelites as a threat. He forced them into slavery and slew their newborn sons. The Israelites blessing had become a curse. The signs were evident, the new Pharaoh’s attitude was a BIG HONKING CLUE – it was time to move on.

So God sent Moses to tell the Israelites that he would lead them to their own land - a land of prosperity, flowing with milk and honey. They’d spent generations growing beyond the large family of twelve brothers into a great nation of twelve tribes. They’d outgrown their current situation and were being primed to move into the next level, their inheritance. Moses was leading them to a land where God could bless them again. So the Israelites left BUT they grumbled and complained all along the way. At times they wanted to go back to Egypt because even though it wasn’t the best life, it was the life they knew. They hadn’t truly moved on – their minds were still back in Egypt. Their obstinacy led to their undoing – because they wouldn’t move forward in their thinking, they couldn’t possess the land God wanted to give them. They wandered the desert for forty years like people lost, just out of reach of their promised land.

From their story, I learned this lesson: The time to “bloom where you’re planted” eventually comes to an end. God wants to take us forward, to bless us and do something wonderful and to move us on to bigger and better things. Life is about moving on. Somewhere along the line, I realized that fighting growth meant fighting change and potentially, fighting my blessing. Now, when seeming calamity comes along, I am able to consider that it may very well be God, shaking me out of my comfort zone and telling me it’s time to move on. Actually, I’ve resisted change so much, at times, that the only way I would or could move on is because God, himself, moved me. That’s when he reveals that my landing place was only a launching pad. It was meant to be a period of growth and preparation; merely a transition to take me to the next level.

So, sure, do what you can, where you are … and then move on. Don’t put down roots where you’re only meant to make a pit stop. I’m learning how to recognize the signs that a situation is no longer working for me AND that there is value in knowing when to move on.

Be blessed,

Loria

Growing Pains

2010-09-16T08:39:00.001-07:00

“I make known the end from the beginning, from ancient times, what is still to come. I say: My purpose will stand, and I will do all that I please.”
(Isaiah 46:10)

My last semester in college, I took Speech 101. My teacher had written the textbook, literally, on making speeches. And I had visions, dreams, ambitions of standing before great crowds, speaking and singing. Problem with that dream was, I was shy and afraid. So, I dreamt of a future where I wasn’t afraid. I thought that taking a speech class would improve my ability to speak before audiences and get rid of my stage fright. I put a lot of faith in that plan. It would be my cure-all and the perfect solution to my problem. My salvation.

I wrote my first speech and delivered it in front of the class. I was a good writer so I guess I anticipated a good grade. But when I got my graded speech from the teacher, I was stunned. She had scrawled across the front: “Next time remove the gum from your mouth for clear articulation!” What? Huh? How was that possible? I didn’t even have any gum in my mouth! I was indignant, dismayed and discouraged. I knew that I didn’t have any talent as a public speaker – that’s why I was taking her darned class! I thought she could help me. But she didn’t. Apparently, she couldn’t work miracles. I was so discouraged that I dropped a class for the first time, ever.

I carried that memory with me my whole life. Even as I was thrust into leadership roles, I knew in the back of my mind that I was no leader. Even as I gained more courage to sing from my soul, I knew that I had no stage presence. Even as I was thrown into situations that required me to speak publicly, I knew I still sounded like I had gum in my mouth.

So imagine my surprise when I was drafted into a speaking role at my church one day and the minister replied, “It makes sense because you’re such a natural.” Uroo? (In my Astro voice – from the Jetson's) Wait, I mean, what? “You’re a natural –you have such a wonderful speaking voice.” As I continued to look at her in a strange way, it dawned on her. “You’ve never been told that before?” No, never.

I recounted that story to my friend and counselor and she had this to say: That disappointing experience with my speech teacher then, prompted me to be more careful when I speak, thus causing me to become a better speaker today. That experience molded me and made me who I am. Even as I believed what she’d written on my paper, I persevered. I still tried. I spoke in public settings. I sang before audiences. I became the girl in my vision. God’s will was accomplished in my life, not only in spite of the adversity I’d faced but because of it. Amen.

It occurred to me then, and now, that some of the things that have happened in my life NEEDED to happen, just so I could get where I am supposed to be. That means every disappointment or setback, every victory and exultation, every challenge; every obstacle has a purpose and a meaning. And God uses every single one of them, nothing’s wasted, to get me to the place where He has determined and ordained that I should be.

I think of the history of Israel and how Solomon’s death created a rift that split the kingdom in two. Solomon’s son, Rehoboam, maintained control of two tribes and was about to go to war with his brethren. But God revealed that splitting the kingdom in two was actually his plan to save a remnant of Israel. The two tribes comprising Judah, Rehoboam’s portion, are likely the remnant that is recognized today as the nation of Israel. The other ten tribes did not survive as a nation and were conquered and assimilated into the surrounding cultures. So the separation, which was painful, ultimately served God’s purpose of preserving his people.

Then there was the early Christian church which was persecuted after the crucifixion of Jesus. They were forced into hiding, fearing for their lives. Their fears were justified, eventually resulting in the death of Stephen, the first Christian martyr. This seemed to be a horrifying turn of events and the Christians fled their homeland, on the lam but also, taking the good news where ever they went. So that really horrible thing turned out to be the catalyst that made the Gospel available to the world. Even then, God used that situation to bring about his good purpose.

I have many regrets. For a time, my failed marriage was one. Even though I thought I was over it, I wasn’t. Not completely. There was still residual anger and pain from how things ended between us. I could go on and on, at times, ranting about it. Lately, I seemed to be doing more and more of that. But going forward, I resolve to remember something else. The person I am today, I owe, in part, to my ex-husband. Not just because the pain of divorce changed me and made me wiser. Besides my children, I owe some very good things about my life to him.

I get my outgoing nature from his example. He was the opposite of me – charismatic, gregarious and extroverted. Shy was not in his vocabulary. He just barreled right through his fear and waited on the other side to receive his due praise. I picture him, hands upraised in a victorious pose, Ta-Da! When it came to performing for God, he had no reservations.

Introverted by nature, I prayed for boldness. I realized my shy demeanor stemmed from fear of how my performance would be received. It held me back until I learned to perform for myself and God, alone. Once I no longer worried about my reception, I was free of debilitating shyness. Pretty soon, I started to be very much like my (then) husband. So I’m thankful for his influence.

Even if I could do it again, would I change any of it? If pressed, I’d have to admit: He is part of who I am and how I came to be. I wouldn’t change who I am now. I like who I am now. I know who I am now. I can’t even wish I’d never met my ex-husband or that we’d never gotten married. So I choose to let go of the last vestiges, the bitter remains of any anger or hurt that linger.

After battling drug addiction, Natalie Cole came out of rehab and was interviewed by Oprah. She was asked, “If you had it to do over again, what would you change?” Natalie replied, “Nothing because everything I went through made me who I am.” Yeah, I get that. Now, I can appreciate and accept that God used these events to get me where I always wanted to be.

Be blessed,

Loria

A Perfect Love

2010-09-01T06:59:00.000-07:00

“There is no fear in love; but perfect love casteth out fear: because fear hath torment. He that feareth is not made perfect in love.” (1 John 4:18)

The U-Haul handled like a bus and I drove it with trepidation as I pulled into the dorm’s parking lot. It was a huge van, set on big wheels and terribly intimidating to me. But, I drove it. I had to – my need to do this for my children overrode my reservations, causing me to “drive” right through that fear. I’ve always told my children: Courage doesn’t mean you’re never afraid. It means doing what you have to do, despite being afraid. So, here I was, afraid, yet still doing it. There’s something about facing your fears that empowers you. It gives you strength to face down the next obstacle.

As we unloaded the van at my daughter’s dorm, one of my 'besties' came out to greet me. See, a funny thing happened on the way to college – not only was my daughter attending the same school as my son but she was also rooming with the niece of my good friend, through no design of our own. They were matched completely at random. My only misgiving was could they get along as roommates? But I could not be happier with God’s choice for a roommate (because this was surely God working and no coincidence) - my kids have known her since they were small and we all attended church together. She’s tall and beautiful, with legs that go on forever. (Sigh. I’d like to be her when I grow up.) She’s also incredibly sweet, carries herself well and is, I think, a good role model for my daughter.

It occurred to me that God had a two-fold reason for putting these girls together. In doing so, it resulted in my friend being there for me. For all my illusion of strength and control, I could still potentially wind up a basket case when the time came to actually let them go. Just seeing my friend encouraged me. It let me know that I was not alone. Help was right here, just in case I needed it. That made me feel strong. Although she came to deliver her niece to the dorm, I felt like God had her come just for my sake.

I said goodbye to my friend and then unloaded my son’s things at his dorm. I wanted to make sure the kids had everything they needed, so my daughter and I took a trip to Wal-Mart to stock up on supplies. As we were standing in the grocery aisle, I noticed my daughter was suddenly quiet. I turned to see a face, peering around my shoulder and leaning between me and my daughter. I drew in a sharp breath as recognition dawned on me. I gasped three times – My FRIEND! It was my good buddy and co-worker from my call center days. We used to study our bibles together there. I hugged her to me. It was so good to see her again and doubly so on this day.

She’d sent me a message that her own daughter would also be attending the same college and added; maybe we’d see each other on move-in day. I thought it highly unlikely as they stayed in different dorms but here she was - another good friend, there for me on my big day. I knew God had done that. I knew he was taking care of me. My heart swelled with joy.

As we left the parking lot, my cell phone rang - my sister calling. She made some excuse to hide her true reason but I knew: she was concerned about me. She wanted to make sure I wasn’t lying somewhere in a puddle of my own tears, having a complete breakdown. She was worried that my legendary strength, in this, would fail me. She wanted to be there for me, if needed, even if only via phone. Of course, she denied it. But, I knew. I also realized it was her love and the love of my friends that gave me strength on this day. I felt like God had surrounded me with his love. Who could cry then? I felt migh-TY blessed.

We drove back to the dorm. As I prepared to take my leave, my daughter said, “Come back. Sit for a while. Have a bowl of cereal.” By this, I knew she wasn’t quite ready for me to go. So I delayed, helping put away her things and assembling her fan. Then I called my son over to her room and hugged them both, saying my goodbyes. I’m sure my nose turned red (it always does, I’m told) as I fought to not cry. I clasped their hands and prayed for them, speaking the same benediction over them which has evolved in the years since they first left for kindergarten: “Heavenly Father, In Jesus’ name, watch over my children and keep them safe from all hurt, harm and danger …” I choked up from the memories of it. My son gave his sister a look that clearly said, “Here she goes!” He expected this to be the BIG breakdown. Mama’s gonna lose it. But I didn’t. I kept it together and walked out of the dorm. I soon realized my daughter was beside me.

“What are you doing?” I say.

“Walking you to your car,” she said. Left unsaid was, “Making sure you’re OK.”

Her concern was my undoing. My vision clouded and tears finally began to fall as she hugged me to her. This time, my tears were only for her. I was letting my baby go.

“That’s it, forget it!” She joked. “Let’s go back and get my things and I’ll go home with you.”

“Not after all the money I’ve spent!” I said. “You’d better stay.” Besides, I didn’t want her to become like me, a bucket of fears walking around on two legs.

“Don’t worry – we’ll take good care of your baby!” Another voice said.

I turned to see a man in a suit walking by. I had faith in his suit; it comforted me. I hoped it meant he spoke with some authority and that I could trust him. In any case, I was holding him to his word. As I looked into my daughter’s happy face, the face of a young woman now, the final piece fell into place and a light came on. I realized I could trust God to take care of her. He loves her, too. He would be with her. He put a lot of people in place to guide her and keep her safe. He is invested in her. With that thought, the last of my fears evaporated.

“Perfect love casts out fear,” I quoted to my friend and counselor one day. She responded, “There’s no such thing as perfect love.” But I thought to myself then, thinking of my relationship with God, “Yeah, there is.” God’s love is perfect. His love on this day, manifested through the kindness of others, eased my fear.

As I drove home, I shed no tears. I was jubilant. I was triumphant. I felt safe in the knowledge that God loved me. I felt secure that my daughter would be taken care of. I knew that I would be taken care of. I had no worries. I drove to the library to get a book. I got out of the car thinking, “Oh, I have to hurry home because of the kids…” No, I reminded myself, I don’t. Then, I went to the grocery store, thinking of all the things I would need to get for the kids … No, I didn’t. So, I pushed my cart, thinking of all the things I would get just for me. And I grinned. I was truly single, again.

Be blessed,

Loria

A New Thing

2010-08-25T08:03:00.000-07:00

“For I am about to do something new. See, I have already begun! Do you not see it? I will make a pathway through the wilderness. I will create rivers in the dry wasteland.” (Isaiah 43:19)

“Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away …” (Revelation 21:1)

It was momentous. It was STUPENDOUS. It was heartbreaking. And horrendous. This moment of truth. Would I be able to let my kids go? After my daughter’s trunk party, the remaining weeks left to us passed in a blur. Lately, when I looked into my daughter’s face, I saw the little girl she used to be. My baby's face. “What will you do,” said my friends and co-workers, “when your babies are gone?” For my part, I tried very hard not to think about it. I really didn’t doubt my ability to handle it, at first. After all, this is what I had been waiting for and the culmination of all my efforts for the past 5 years. This mark, this measurement of my success was to see my kids raised to adulthood, in spite of all our setbacks and sent off to college.

“Stick a fork in me, I’m DONE!” I crowed, jubilantly echoing Al Bundy from Married with Children. My friend responded via email, “You don’t really think it’s over, do you?” But she couldn’t derail my enthusiasm. I’d accomplished my goal and saw freedom on the horizon. I was looking forward to that, I told myself. To be free, at last. To start all over again. To be truly single. My end was in sight. Wow. Yay. Right?

Problem was, reality began to intrude upon my little celebration. What would it really be like to not have the kids around? I forced my thoughts to veer away from that direction. I wouldn’t think about my soon-to-be empty nest. I figured it would only make matters worse if I spent our last few months together, dreading their departure. I put it off, delaying the inevitable like Scarlett O’Hara, “I won’t think about that today. If I think about that right now, I’ll go crazy! I’ll think about that tomorrow.”

As the day of their departure drew near, I repeated that mantra over again in my head. Just don’t think about it. Finally, Wednesday, the day before THE FINAL DAY, came. I had done all I could do. All the preparations were made. I could no longer put it off. I couldn’t hide from the truth of it by keeping myself occupied with tasks and shopping. Early in the day, I began to have panic attacks. I couldn’t breathe. My heart clutched. The words resounded in my head, filling me, “What WILL you do when they’re gone?” Suddenly, all of my good plans seemed like so much garbage. GARBAGE! I didn’t have a plan! Not a real plan, I moaned, inwardly. Panicked, I gave into the crushing fear of it.

It rolled over me, devastating me with the weight of it. Who do I think I am? I can’t do this! This is too much! I was overwhelmed by the thoughts of packing my kids, my daughter especially, off to college. I was intimidated at the prospect of renting the U-Haul and driving them. A U-Haul? Who was I kidding? I couldn’t do this – I wasn’t up to the task. Despair filled me; fear engulfed me as I wailed, “What’s gonna happen to ME?” And it wasn’t about my daughter leaving anymore as I gave into my grief and self pity. I felt pain, like I hadn’t since my divorce. It was quite a party until my daughter heard me sniffling quietly to myself.

“Are you crying?” she asked.

“No.” I lied, pouting and moping.

“Punk,” she responded.

It made me laugh, just a little and lifted me from my funk long enough for me to see the real problem. It wasn’t just about separation anxiety, although that was certainly part of it. It was about my fear of the future. I was simply afraid of, well, everything. Of doing something different in driving the U-Haul. Of moving out of my comfort zone. Of being alone for the first time in 20 years. Of having no one to fill that space, to take care of and to take care of me. It was scary. It was starting over.

“For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.” (2 Timothy 1:7)

Along with this realization came an epiphany. Fear is not of God. I should have recognized the true source but the fear had grown, unchecked, until it drowned out everything. It was almost paralyzing in it’s intensity. I knew God didn’t want me to feel this way and the pain was so great, neither did I. So, I prayed. Initially, I prayed my fears. Then the prayer morphed and transformed into a prayer of confidence: Lord, you have always taken care of me! I will not let the evil one make me fear my future and cloud my mind with doubts. At that moment, I remembered that God promised good things for me and I was comforted. I went to sleep and slept like a person who had no cares.

The next day brought a new Loria, one who had stared her fear in the face and conquered it. A Loria who could do what she had to do. I picked up the U-Haul, packed up my kids and their belongings and drove them away to college. The benchmark had been reached. The line of demarcation had been passed. A future filled with possibilities and a new world awaited me. No longer hovering on the cusp, I stepped into it, ready to face whatever the day would bring...

Be blessed,

Loria

Chosen

2010-08-05T10:47:00.000-07:00

“But ye are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, an holy nation, a peculiar people …” 1 Peter 2:9

“You’re chosen,” a pastor said to me some years ago as she ministered to me. Her words made me feel special but they were also a little intimidating. They smacked of DESTINY (loud resounding echo), another scary word. It was like, “Loria, meet your fate.” A Neo meets Morpheus moment, right out of The Matrix. It also felt a little daunting, like my choice had been taken away. Hey! Wait just a minute. I needed some clarification. “Chosen,” I said to my friend, because it was her pastor who’d spoken those fateful words. “What does that mean?”

She explained it as best she could, “Chosen means God chose you out of your family to save your family.” Why me? I asked. She offered her own theory – she believed that God chooses a person out of every family. He calls them to be different. She said to me, “Haven’t you ever felt different from the rest of your family? Like, even though you were raised by the same mother, you’re not quite the same? That’s because God has called you to be peculiar.” I did feel somewhat strange but thought to myself - who hasn’t felt that way at some time or another? I’ve pondered her words ever since.

“For I have chosen him, so that he will direct his children and his household after him to keep the way of the LORD by doing what is right and just, so that the LORD will bring about for Abraham what he has promised him." Genesis 18:19

Throughout the Bible, we read repeatedly, about the ordinary people that God has chosen. Abraham was chosen out of his entire family. So was David. And Jacob over Esau. Chosen. But what did that mean? In biblical terms, it meant they were singled out and accorded a special honor and responsibility. In Abraham’s case, he was singled out to start a family that would one day become a nation. At the time, he was childless. He was called to lead his household out of their present situation, into a land of promise and also, to be the leader within his family. Was he chosen because he was a person of exemplary character? Or was he chosen because he had no children and was desperate enough to believe God would grant his greatest desire? We know it was his faith that pleased God.

David was chosen to succeed Saul as king of Israel. Was it because he wrestled with wild animals to protect his sheep? He killed a bear and a lion that threatened his flock before he ever hit Goliath upside the head with a rock! That would make him a good champion and shepherd of Israel. David was also gifted in playing musical instruments and singing hymns of praise. He learned to pray and praise God while in the fields. It was during those early years that his relationship with God was formed. He became “a man after God’s own heart.” Unfortunately, he was not perfect and very capable of making mistakes. He was also humble enough to repent and look to God for forgiveness.

Jacob didn’t have anything to recommend him – no hymns of praise or great faith in God. No stellar character to refer him – he was sneaky, deceitful and a mama’s boy. Initially, it seemed he had no redeeming qualities and may even have been a bit of a slacker. He relied on chicanery and shenanigans to advance himself. Not a very auspicious beginning. Jacob eventually came to know God and realized he didn’t have to rely on his own schemes and devices anymore. God was with him. His story made me wonder: Are we chosen despite our faults or because of them?

God, I think, delights in using us, in all of our human frailties and imperfections. It proves always, that he is God and he can do anything, with anyone. I realize now that it’s because I am not perfect that God uses me. He knows me, intimately, in a way that I seldom let others see. And he still chose me, even before I knew what I was capable of. He knew what was in me because he knew what he put in me.

Responsibility comes along with the honor of being chosen. Many times we can accept the gifts of God but not the burden of responsibility that goes with it. For example, you see many athletes and celebrities who use their gifts to become wealthy but still insist, “I am not a role model.” They don’t want to be held accountable for their actions. They know they are gifted to lead; they understand that others want to emulate them and they revel in that. But they don’t want any of the blame for leading folks down a foolish path by setting a poor example.

I get that. I struggled for some time with the choosing of me. My faults, I argued, would make me a poor choice for any ministry, service or leadership role that God could call me to do. I felt like people would be watching me and expecting me to be perfect – or waiting for me to fail. I felt the pressure to be good. I wanted to throw off those bonds and not care who was looking and what was expected. I wanted to live my life and not be held accountable.

But then I saw the people I impacted, positively and negatively. I had to face the reality that I was a role model – regardless to whether I wanted to be or not. Good or bad was completely up to me. I said to God, “Ok – I get it. You’ve chosen me, for whatever reason - despite my flaws. I accept this calling, even though I don’t understand why.” At that point, I chose to live my life with the weight of that responsibility. Being called or chosen can be an honor and a privilege. It means you’re called to lead. You set the standard for others to follow. You are the example.

God initially chose me; now there is balance because I’ve chosen Him, too. It is a reciprocal relationship. I’ve made my peace with my imperfections and content myself with the knowledge that he can still use even me. I’ve learned to trust in His decision to call me. I have also resigned myself to being one of His “chosen” people and happily declare myself to be just a little bit “peculiar.”

Be blessed,

Loria

Just Rewards

2010-07-28T10:46:00.000-07:00

… Jesus told this parable: “Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee stood up and prayed about himself: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other men—robbers, evildoers, adulterers—or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week and give a tenth of all I get.’ But the tax collector stood at a distance. He would not even look up to heaven, but beat his breast and said, ‘God, have mercy on me, a sinner.’ I tell you that this man, rather than the other, went home justified before God... (Luke 18:9-14, NIV)

I’m really starting to hate exercise. Well – I like what it does for me but I’ve stopped fooling myself that there is any enjoyment to be found in it. That’s a lie people tell themselves to trick their bodies into doing it, LOL! I suffer under no illusions now. It’s become something I must do if I want to keep this old body of mine working and in good order. Plus, it makes me look good, too! ;) Sunday I was feeling kinda antsy. I’d exercised every day except that day so my body was craving it but I was fighting it. I finally gave into the desire and went for a walk. I will say this; exercise is also good for clearing your mind. As I walked I began to reflect on things and the direction my life is taking.

I wondered why some things I prayed for still eluded me. God has done so much but he has yet to put that final cherry on top – the crowning pinnacle of all my achievements. I walked and I grumbled to myself: I deserve this, I said of my desire. Why hasn’t it happened for me? After all I’ve been through? After the life I’ve strived to live? I was feeling mighty self-righteous. Why didn’t God give me what I deserved? But then it struck me – there are so many things wrong with that argument. First, it assumes that God owes me something for doing the right thing. I’m only doing what I’m supposed to do anyway. Second, it presumes that life owes me something just because of some of the harsh things (I feel) I’ve had to endure - punitive damages, of a sort. Lastly, it claims a superiority and favor over others who’ve had to live this life, like I deserve more than anyone else. As if, life is supposed to be more fair for me than anyone else.

Even as I saw the flaws in my way of thinking, I still demanded of God, “When will I get what I truly deserve?” But then I thought of all the things that God has done for me that met and even exceeded my expectations. I reminded myself that he usually gives me more than I asked for. “Exceedingly abundantly above all I could ask or think…” And it came to me, suddenly - I’m praying all wrong. I’m asking God for what I deserve. I should be asking for more. If I get what I deserve, I limit myself to what I’ve done, instead of receiving blessings with no limit. Getting what I deserve also mandates that I receive just recompense and penalty for my wrong doing as well. What I needed was BETTER than I deserved. And that is where I found my definition of mercy.

Have mercy on me, O God, according to your unfailing love; according to your great compassion blot out my transgressions. (Psalm 51:1 NIV)

David, “a man after God’s own heart,” is one of my favorite characters from the Bible - not because he always got it right, but because he sometimes got it really, really wrong. But he knew how to repent. He would go to God and say, "I messed up. I really blew it this time. Forgive me.” And God would. I think that's what's so great about their relationship, why God loved him so – David recognized that he needed God to “get it right” and to forgive him when he didn't. He needed God to bless him, not only because of what he’d done, but also, despite what he had done. In fact, I think one of the biggest lies of the enemy is when he convinces us to NOT repent, not ask for forgiveness because God isn't interested in hearing our apology. God is always listening FOR that. He wants to heal and restore you and remove the stain of your offense.

Many of you will recall the story of King David and Bathsheba. She was beautiful. He saw her bathing and desired her so greatly that he had to have her, no matter the cost. He put his kingdom and legacy on the line, his relationship with God on the line and Bathsheba’s husband, Uriah, literally, in the line of fire. Besides committing adultery with Bathsheba, he had gotten her pregnant. David had Uriah killed so that he could marry Bathsheba and cover up his sin. The more he tried to fix his problem, the deeper he became entangled.

Finally, the prophet Nathan came to see David and told him a story of a rich man who had everything but took, instead, from his poor neighbor. The story convicted David and let him know that, although it seemed he had gotten away with his crimes – which were punishable by death – God knew what he’d done. And here is where David sets himself apart from his predecessor, Saul. Instead of trying to justify or mitigate his wrongful actions, he accepts responsibility and asks God for forgiveness and mercy. He asks God for more than he a right to ask, better than he deserves. And God grants it, despite David's crimes. God restored David to a right relationship with Him. He allows David’s dynasty to continue in the person of Solomon, the 2nd son of David and Bathsheba. Yes, there were consequences for David’s mistakes. He lived with them the rest of his life. But the consequences were tempered with mercy.

I pondered this revelation of mercy as I continued my walk. Without mercy, I would receive exactly what I deserved, good and bad. That was a scary thought. A humbling thought. I don't want to go to God and demand he pay me what I feel he owes me. I don’t want to receive only what I put out. I don’t want to reap exactly what I have sown. I want the benefits of His “tender mercies.” By the end of my walk, I’d changed my prayer, my outlook and hopefully, my life. Lord, I prayed, give me better than I deserve! Have mercy on me! If there’s a consequence for a bad action that I must reap, temper it with your grace and mercy so that I may endure it. And if there is any good to come from anything I’ve done, let it be increased so that I get it back, multiplied, one-hundred fold! I desire your mercy without limits, knowing that you are able and very likely to give and do more than I could ever conceive.

Be blessed,

Loria

The Apprentice

2010-07-21T11:08:00.000-07:00

Then he took the cloak that had fallen from him and struck the water with it."Where now is the LORD, the God of Elijah?" he asked. When he struck the water, it divided to the right and to the left, and he crossed over.
(2 Kings 2:14)

Elijah came upon Elisha plowing in a field. The prophet tossed his cloak upon Elisha's shoulders, thereby declaring his successor as God commanded. Elisha hedged, "Give me time to go back and kiss my mother and father goodbye." In other words, he wanted time to put his affairs in order. The prophet responded a bit sarcastically, with words to the effect, "Take all the time you want - I've only offered you MY job!" I’m paraphrasing liberally but you get the gist. This was no small thing, to be sure. When Elijah dropped his cloak on Elisha, he transferred his position, along with all his power and authority. Elisha would be THE prophet for God's people.

So Elisha followed his mentor, dropping everything. He sacrificed his plowing oxen and used the plow equipment as fuel to consume them, signifying that part of his life was over. As they journeyed, Elisha received repeated warnings that his master, Elijah, was to be called home this very day. God was taking Elijah away in a whirlwind. But Elisha already knew this in his spirit. It was the "why" behind the prophet’s "hurry up and follow me" vibe. There was a sense of urgency to his calling.

As Elijah and Elisha drew closer to their destination, the prophet tried to send his protégé on his way, signaling the end of their time together. Elijah made excuses, like, “Wait for me here.” But Elisha would not be put off so easily. He insisted on following the prophet to the end.

The two men came to a body of water, the River Jordan. Elijah took his mantle, rolled it up and touched it to the water. The waters parted and they walked across on dry land. When they reached the other side, Elijah said to his successor, "Ask of me what you will." Elisha responded, "That I would receive a double portion of your spirit." The prophet told him that was a hard thing BUT, he allowed, "If you see me taken away, your request will be granted."

Suddenly Elisha saw chariots of fire, drawn by fiery horses, descending from heaven! They swooped down between the two men and took Elijah away. Elisha cried at the sight of it, tore his garments and mourned Elijah’s “passing”. After Elisha witnessed that miracle, he gathered himself together and walked back to the river they'd crossed before. He touched Elijah’s mantle, now his, to the water and cried, "Where is the God of Elijah?" And the waters parted before him, too. Same God. Same miracle. Same power.

God said to Moses, "I am who I am. This is what you are to say to the Israelites: 'I AM has sent me to you.' God also said to Moses, "Say to the Israelites, 'The LORD, the God of your fathers—the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac and the God of Jacob—has sent me to you.' (Exodus 3:14-15)

His personal name – the name he revealed to Moses – has become a promise for me, as he meant it to be: I am. When I was afraid that I would lose my home, I prayed and He responded, “I am your shelter.” I lost my job and so I prayed and He answered, “I am your provider.” I left my husband, my security, to start all over again. I cried out to God and his name declared, “I am your husband,” to me. Time and again, God has proven and shown himself strong on my behalf. I think the only way to truly know him is to need him - to be at the end of your rope. He gave us a basis for trusting him when he identified himself as the same God who dealt with Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. His reputation precedes him. He wants us to know him by his miracles and make the connection that he will do the same for us.

While working at the call center, I made many friends – some of us are still friends to this day, some 10-15 years later. One of my friends was a new Christian like me and totally in love with the Lord. Back then, we would fantasize about being called into his service to do great things. We wanted to be used and know God like the heroes of Biblical times. My friend had a saying: Lord, I wanna know you like I KNOW you! Meaning, she wanted to have an intimate relationship with God. We both wanted to be able to say, “The God of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob and ME!” We yearned for more, not actually realizing the extent of what we were asking. I have since come to the realization that the only one way to KNOW God that way is by having him repeatedly snatch you from the fire!

Recently, another friend asked me to pray for her because she felt I could “get a prayer through.” As if, I had some special power to influence God. I laughed (but I also prayed). I know God loves me and he hears me but I’m not arrogant enough to believe he hears me anymore than he hears anyone else. Actually, I’ve usually been that person in the past who has asked other, powerful praying people, to pray for me! It was funny and ironic that she asked that of me.

But it made me think: Did these prayer warriors have more sway with God than I did? Do I have more than my friend? I didn’t think so. Like Elisha, I’ve seen some of his glory – I know what he can do. Based on who he has revealed himself to be throughout the Bible and what he has done for me, I feel I can go to him and ask: “Where is the God of Elijah? Where is the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob? You did it for them; surely you can perform a miracle for me! I need you to be my God, too, here and now.” Then I hope and hold on, waiting for him to perform it because he’s been my salvation many times. When I ask Him to show up, I believe He will.

It came to me today, that the mantle and authority is still being passed – the power is no longer in the garment but in the relationship. It rests on me; it rests on you and all of us who are seeking that closer relationship with God and desire to be used by him. You, too, can go boldly to his throne because He is not a “respecter of persons” or, of your station in life. That is to say, you don’t need someone else (minister, prayer warrior, or me ;) LOL) to speak on your behalf. You can say, “Where is this God of Elijah? Of Elisha? Of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob? Of Loria? I need you to be there for me, like you were there for them.” And then you will see your own miracle.

Be blessed,

Loria

The Battle

2010-07-14T11:42:00.000-07:00

“… He came to a broom tree, sat down under it and prayed that he might die. "I have had enough, LORD," he said. "Take my life..." (1Kings 19:4)

I love the Old Testament. When I was a young girl, my grandmother gave me a book called “Beautiful Bible Stories.” I read it from cover to cover, until it was pretty worn. That began my love affair with the His Word. One of my favorite stories from the Old Testament is the story of Elijah and the Battle on Mount Carmel. It was EPIC!

Israel had fallen into serving pagan gods (Baal and Asherah) at the instigation of Jezebel, King Ahab’s wife. Because of their idolatry, God caused a drought to come upon the land – no rain at Elijah’s word. Elijah was a wanted man so God hid him until the appointed time and then sent him to Ahab to challenge Jezebel’s prophets to a contest. Winner takes all.

Elijah, the pagan prophets and all of Israel (including Ahab) gathered on Mount Carmel. The contest was simple – build your own altar, prepare your own sacrifice, pray your own prayer BUT your god had to light the fire. So the prophets of Jezebel (450 for Baal, 400 for Asherah) prepared their sacrifice per the instructions and prayed to their god – all morning long. Nothing happened. They grew more desperate and began to cut themselves, trying to invoke their god as Elijah taunted their efforts.

Finally, Elijah took his turn – he prepared his altar and his sacrifice and then dug a deep trench around the altar. He had water poured on the sacrifice several times, drenching the wood and the offering until the trench was full of water. And then he prayed. God immediately answered by fire which rained down from heaven onto the altar. It consumed the entire sacrifice and licked up the water in the ditch! “Our God IS God,” Israel began to chant. Elijah prayed again and God sent rain to relieve the land. He gave Elijah a supernatural burst of energy so that he outran the horses of King Ahab’s chariot. I imagine Elijah running, giddy with victory.

Meanwhile, Jezebel’s prophets had been destroyed at Elijah’s command – she did not take that news well. She swore vengeance on Elijah, sending him on the lam. Again. And this is where we catch up with Elijah. No longer riding the wave of euphoria, he’s feeling worn down, maligned, mistreated, unappreciated. Attacked. He’s tired. He just wants to give up. He’s so overwhelmed that he lies down under a tree and goes to sleep, praying for death to overtake him. At this point, God sends an angel to minister to him. The angel awakened Elijah and urged him to eat because “the journey was too great” for him. (I sometimes wonder – what does food prepared by an angel’s hand taste like? Hmmmm.)

On the strength of that meal, Elijah was able to travel for 40 days to Horeb, the mountain of God. There he spent the night in a cave where God spoke to him, asking, “What are you doing here, Elijah?” Elijah listed his complaints, all he had done for God and, to top it off, how Jezebel was looking to kill him. Besides that, he felt he was the only true servant of God left. So the Lord told Elijah to step outside so they could have a little chat. The wind tore up the side of the mountain but God wasn’t in the wind. And the mountain shook with an earthquake but God wasn’t in the earthquake. Fire manifested but He wasn’t to be found in the fire, either. Finally, a gentle whisper came, in the stillness, in the quiet, God spoke to Elijah.

This is where my own story picks up. I’d been taking stock of my life and feeling pretty good about my accomplishments. I was feeling victorious. But last week was rough. I ended the week trying to fight back tears as I thought about how I had been treated. Like Elijah, I thought: Wow – this is the thanks I get? After all of the major battles (epic, for me) that I’ve fought and won, this is how it ends? Not with a bang but with a whimper? It just didn’t seem fair. And the more I thought about it, the more it hurt. Mentally, I was curled up in the fetal position. Then I got angry. The more I thought about how I was wronged, the more self righteous my anger became; it encased me, turning me hard. It felt all wrong – evil and insidious.

When I realized it was morphing into something else, I knew I had to let it go. I had to. I’d already lashed out and hurt someone – it had become a weapon. It didn’t feel good. So instead of fighting back the tears, I released them. I journaled my pain. Instead of complaining about how right I was and how wrong the other party was, I cried out to God and asked him to take that pain away. So that I could think about it without hurting. So that I could move on. So that I wouldn’t lash out. So that it wouldn’t change me. Talk about a battle of epic proportions! The fight between good and evil, inside of me. Would I continue to nurture that hurt and let it fester until I felt justified in hurting someone else? Or would I use it as an opportunity to grow and become a better person?

As it turned out, I didn't have to make a conscious decision. Thankfully, I found the comfort I was seeking in the tears that I shed. Crying brought clarity. As Miss Sophia said in The Color Purple, “All my life I had to fight!” In my case, I’ve fought to appear strong. I hated to cry or for people to see me cry. It felt weak. But as I’ve matured, I’ve learned to embrace tears. Rather than making me weak, I feel it makes me strong. It allows me to get rid of the garbage that hurts me. So I cried until I forgave the person who hurt me. I cried until I could think of it without crying more. I cried until it no longer mattered what they did or why. It only mattered that I didn’t let it change me.

That’s what I was fighting for – that right there, was the real battle. And, as with Elijah, God sent a friend – an "angel" – to minister to me, to provide comfort and encouragement because I was feeling too overwhelmed by this journey. And like Elijah, I found God when I needed him most, where I least expected him but right where I needed him to be.

Be blessed,

Loria

Can You Hear Me Now?

2010-07-07T10:39:00.000-07:00

“Then he continued, "Do not be afraid, Daniel. Since the first day that you set your mind to gain understanding and to humble yourself before your God, your words were heard, and I have come in response to them.” Daniel 10:12

When a friend told me about the “100 Answered Prayers Challenge,” I was intrigued. It’s based on a book she’s reading, Surprised by Prayer by Karen Barber. Initially, I thought it was just recording your prayers and waiting for the answers. Being a person who sometimes journals, I am familiar with documenting and recording your prayers. I was never truly motivated to keep it up, finding it rather tedious. But my friend revealed to me the twist – you’re not recording your prayers, only your answers. That hooked me. I would record the prayers that God answered until I got to one hundred. I felt it would be a great way to be cognizant, always, that God is working in my life today.

So, a couple of weeks into it and a quarter of the way through, I had an epiphany. The reason that recording my prayers hasn’t worked for me in the past is because I pretty much used it as a wish list. Nothing really wrong with wish lists but it keeps you focused on what you want – not on what you are getting. You could be missing out on some wonderful blessings that are staring you in the face but all you see is that your specific prayer on the list hasn’t been answered.

My daughter is your typical teenager; she wants what she wants, when she wants it. One day, she insisted that I do something for her and when I refused, she treated me as if I never did anything for her. Now, mind you – we’ve had an exhausting school year, culminating in prom and graduation. Everything I’d done to make her senior year special was forgotten, all because I didn’t grant this request. Her attitude offended me and I told her she had a very short memory. She was too focused on what she wasn’t getting to appreciate what had already been done and the sacrifices I’d made. Thankfully, as she is maturing, she’s getting better – not so much “Me, me, me – now, Now, NOW!” I realize my job as a parent is not over as I teach her to appreciate what she has now and not focus so much on immediate gratification. As I thought about her, I thought of my own relationship with God. When we make lists of things we want, sometimes all we see is what we’re not getting.

This challenge has changed my focus. As I document answers, I am reminded that he is present and actively involved in my life, right now. Some of these prayers are long standing, ongoing prayers for me and my family. Like the day I realized that my son was surrounded by good influences, which is always a mother’s desire. Or the day he told me that he respected me. Me. One of the reasons I divorced was because I felt I was losing the respect of my children. I needed to be able to look them in the eye and say truthfully, “God is everything; with him you can do anything. He is always with you.” And then, I had to set about living it and proving it to them because children are quick to expose hypocrisy. It has to be real for you, if it is to be real for them.

Some answers are the result of prayers not even vocalized. When we went to my daughter’s orientation we found that if she didn’t take a class before the term began in the fall, she would have to do that in addition to her regular classes. I worried that she would have too much to deal with during her freshman year and would be overwhelmed. While I sat in the auditorium, trying to figure it out, God was already working it out. By the end of the day, the situation was resolved and she found the class was unnecessary. I recognized that as answered prayer because of the sense of relief that washed over me. God saw my problem and solved it, before it could even become an issue.

I realized that some answers are, surprisingly, almost immediate or soon thereafter. When I pray for favor on my job, God usually turns the situation into a favorable outcome for me. Or when I pray about a person who is being difficult, they do a complete 180 degree turn and are suddenly smiling and pleasant. Some answers are in a comforting word. When I wake up with a song in my mind, I know that He is comforting me. The other night, I went to bed feeling particularly discouraged because of an unkind word. The next morning, I awakened to the words of Time will Reveal by El DeBarge: “More precious than silver, more precious than diamond rings or anything …” That line played in a continual loop in my head and I knew God wanted me to know how much I am worth to him. A love song from God – the thought made me smile.

Some answers are in his presence. When I was newly single, I felt discouraged and out of my league as a homeowner. I was overwhelmed by all it entailed. I’d never taken care of a home before – I didn’t even know how to mow the grass. My pool was a real source of dismay for me. I couldn’t get the darn thing to remain clean! The water would turn a dark murky green. Every time I saw it, it became the symbol of my failure as a homeowner and my heart would sink into my stomach. Still, I would often sit on my deck overlooking the pool and meditate in the early morning or late evening. The humming of the pump and gurgling of the water was soothing. One day as I was talking to God, a shaft of sunlight beamed directly on the pool and the water suddenly turned a crystal clear, beautiful blue. Tears sprang to my eyes and I felt the presence of his Spirit. My dog came over to me and nudged my hand so that I could pet his head – I think he could see and feel it, too. He leaned his big body against me as I cried and was comforted. I thanked God for his Spirit, his manifestation. The vision cleared and the pool returned to normal but that experience remained with me.

So I remind myself now, rather than look at a particular unanswered prayer and feel discouraged, that He is ALWAYS answering me, in some form or fashion. Like Daniel, I have found that he hears me and may be devising an answer, a solution or comfort as soon as (or even before) my need is realized. I think about how I feel when my children only see what I haven’t done instead of all the good that I do. It seems mighty ungrateful. Like my daughter, I’m maturing – God is doing for me what I am doing for her. He’s helping me to change my focus so that I can see and appreciate everything that he does for me.

Be blessed,

Loria

P.S. For more information on how to do the 100 Answered Prayer Challenge, go to: http://www.personalprayerpower.com/php/100prayers.php. If you have a special story to share about how God has answered your prayer, I’d love to hear it!