A “Chopped” Life

"Tonight's ingredients are: Chicken feet, poblano peppers, black radishes and Skittles."

If you think this sounds a bit crazy, you haven't watched the Food Network show, Chopped. On the show four chefs compete for ten thousand dollars by creating dishes using only the ingredients they are given in a basket. These ingredients are often unusual and meant to stretch the chefs' skills to make something that tastes delicious and looks good. The best moments on the show are when the ingredient baskets are opened and the chefs' expressions are shown. How do you make chicken feet with talons attached look or taste good. (On a cautionary note, always remove the talons before serving. Your food shouldn't injure your guests.)

Recently, I was thinking about my life. Right now, it feels like I am waiting for several things to come together. Everything feels unfinished. Tony is almost done with his schooling. We are almost married. I am waiting for the bank to complete my loan modification. I have plans to finally follow my own personal call. But I can't start quite yet. I have opportunities at work which don't seem to make sense right now. While I am not tied to the past, it is also part of my decisions. It is harder to follow a call with a mortgage, two kids in college and a third who needs braces. How does this all fit together? It feels like I have been handed a bunch of puzzle pieces but no picture on the puzzle box.

Similarly to the chefs on Chopped, we are all thrown a basket full of ingredients. The good, the bad and the ugly are given to us, then God asks us to do something with all of it. The passage from Romans comes to mind, "And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose" Romans 8:28 ESV. Somehow the contestants make Chicken feet and Skittles into an appetizer that will impress the most discerning judges. And somehow these seemingly chaotic and at times painful pieces of my life can through faith in God's redemptive work become something new. For now, I can trust that each piece has a place and wait in expectation to "taste and see" what God has done with my life.

 

 

Wisteria Victorious Part I

This blog was written 6 years ago, at the beginning of a great darkness. I share this now because the story didn't end 6 years ago, the final installment occurred today. Stay tuned for the next installment!

The first time I saw our home, I fell in love with the 100 year old Victorian. My romantic heart soared thinking about the sweeping staircase, multiple fireplaces and large front porch. Adding to the ambience was a magnificent wisteria vine which elegantly served as a natural curtain against both the morning sun and nosy neighbors. Instantly, I began imagining myself sitting in its shade sipping ice tea on a summer afternoon. We quickly made a bid on the house and soon it was ours.

However, my shady refuge was never to be. Before the ink dried on the contract my husband chopped down the wisteria vine. His pragmatic self had convinced my romantic self that an overgrown vine was neither esthetically pleasing nor practical for our new home. He correctly argued that the vines were in reality an ant super highway and the quickest way to a rotten porch. So I resolved myself to one less romantic ideal and sadly agreed to its sacrifice.

    Mistakenly, we thought a fierce pruning would be enough. However, the vine kept coming back. Its tendrils continued to grow. Almost overnight new growth appeared and spread across the flower bed. Hoping to encourage the vine remnants to rot, we poured five pounds of rock salt on it. Some of the root did rot away, and at first, there seemed to be no more new growth. As we prepared for our first winter, we thought we had seen the last of the wisteria. When spring came, I was excited to see my flowers returning from the winter's rest. Crocuses, day lilies, and hosta poked their heads out of the earth. And the wisteria peered out as well, waving its green and red foliage in the spring breeze never imagining it hadn't been invited to the party.

    In the end we tried many things to stop the vine from growing: weed killer, more chopping, and lots of pruning. Yet, still the wisteria returned. I soon found myself becoming sympathetic to this stubborn vine. The wisteria became a stubborn foe, refusing to surrender. Like Wile E. Coyote trying to catch the roadrunner, my husband would research and plan his next attack. This spring I thought he had finally found the way to the wisteria's demise. A friend offered part of his "stash" of extreme weed killer. This stuff had been in Tom's basement for years and was the kind that no longer could be purchased legally. He was almost giddy as we drove home, he could smell victory. I fussed about the welfare of my other plants. He said their sacrifice would be for a worthy cause. With a vengeance, he doused the roots with the contraband spray.

    A month later, I took stock of the damage in my flower bed. Several of my precious plants had indeed sacrificed their lives for this final battle. With great sadness I pulled up two azaleas, a gift from a friend. Two day lilies from a dear friend's yard were brown and dried up. As I pulled out the last dead plant, I did a double take. In the midst of all the devastation, the wisteria lived!

    Enough was enough I decided I couldn't risk the innocent death of any more plants. If we couldn't kill it, then I'd control it. I decided a trellis would do the trick. The "wild" vine would be contained away from the porch and look very pretty in the spring. I purchased an arched trellis from a catalog. With great anticipation, I looked forward to the spring and purple cascades of wisteria blossoms gracefully careening down the trellis.

    One week later, the vine demonstrated without any further doubt its true indestructibility. A pick-up truck ran into our front porch causing the entire porch roof collapsed. We were all shaken but safe. In the chaos of all the emergency workers, I surveyed the damage. The entire roof had fallen down; aluminum siding was hanging from the front of the house where the roof had once been. The porch floor, pushed off its foundation by six feet now leaned against our neighbor's house. My gaze suddenly stopped on the arched trellis still standing in front of the fallen porch green leaves waving at me. The wisteria had prevailed once again.

    The wisteria is victorious!

Reality TV and Free Will

Insanity has been defined as doing the same action repeatedly and expecting a different result. I have felt insane many times in my life – every time I start a new diet, at the beginning of every Pirate's season, or when I buy a lottery ticket. But lately, I have felt the most foolish when I watch reality TV. I fall for it every time.
Without realizing it, I fall for the illusion that the toughest, strongest, prettiest or most talented will win. Alas, "Big Barry" proved it again. There is no free will in reality TV.

Last night, "Big Barry," the 4'10" singer on America's Got Talent" was sent through to the next round in New York City. Leisure suit wearing Barry croons (perhaps crows might be a better word) songs and pokes fun at his lack of height. I am sure he is a nice man but has more gimmick than talent. As I put my hands over my ears during his performance, I
happily thought this would be the last time. However, Howie and Howard thought differently and put him through to the next round. Presently, I am not sure of the reasoning, but I will bet my left foot it has something to do with someone's idea of "good tv."

As a rational adult, I know TV is run by commercial viability. Producers want to induce conflict and highlight the good stories. Drama keeps viewers and sells products. The stakes are too high to not step in and control the results. Sure some things are unscripted AGT will now be decided by popular vote. But the producers are still in control of who made it to this point, how they are highlighted on the show, when they perform and perhaps even how the judges respond. All of which can influence the choices of the audience. And so I say again, there is no free will in reality TV.

Once again, I admit my insanity. But this thinking led me to thinking about God and free will. God is not a TV producer. His intentions are not based on ratings or profits or hidden agendas. While He has the ability to control all things, He chooses to allow us the free will to make our own choices. In fact, He allows us to choose to be insane and repeat our mistakes over and over again. God however is constant and unchanging. His holiness requires him to always act according to his character. My freedom is matched by his steadfastness.

So while the lack of free will on "America's Got Talent," dashed my hope in reality TV. The presence of free will in the world revives my hope in God. God doesn't coerce or manipulate, He allows each of us to choose. And while there is danger and uncertainty in that, there is also the safety and certainty of a faithful and steadfast Creator who is not influenced by money or popularity or ratings. So I am glad I put my trust in Him and not in Howie and Howard.

And it will be only a matter of time before my free will and the free will of many others will be exercised on "Big Barry."

Roller Coaster Envy

The other day I realized I have roller coaster envy. I don't covet the roller coasters of anyone else. Rather I am envious of those who can ride with carefree abandon. Throwing their arms up in the air and keeping their eyes wide open while they are hurled at 100 mph over rattling tracks. Standing at the bottom where you can view the pictures taken during the ride, these people look like they actually enjoyed it.

I, on the other hand, will never purchase one of those pictures. Since in my picture I look all scrunched up and white-knuckled with a deer-about-to-get-hit-by-headlights look on my face. Oddly, I actually like to ride roller coasters. When we go to an amusement park I will make sure I face my fears and take a ride on the wild side or Thunderbolt or whatever the name may be. Maybe I am a glutton for punishment or maybe I just like being with those who can ride without fear.

Perhaps this is also why I love stories about other people's faith. Stories in the Bible about Elijah, Daniel, Esther, Noah and Isaac have always been my favorite. These men and women of faith lived boldly in their belief that God was in control. They didn't cower and run from difficult times but made choices which put them in physical danger or had them face public humiliation. I am envious of these people as I try to live a safe life. I profess a faith when I am secure and comfortable but pray hard to be saved from the trials I see around me.

The giants of faith ride through life on a roller coaster with their arms in the air knowing that God is in control. These are the stories that inspire me to live my own life with a faithful abandon. A life marked not by a need to keep myself safe but a life willing to face challenges with boldness. And my desire is when all is said and done, the pictures that remain will be of a life filled with joy and faith. Now, pictures like those I might even want to buy.

Ugly Little Birds

Look at the birds. They don't plant or harvest or store food in barns, for your heavenly Father feeds them. And aren't you far more valuable to him than they are? Can all your worries add a single moment to your life? Matthew 6: 26, 27

Some young girls found this nest of baby birds in a hedge outside of my office building. I had never seen such small birds up close before. They certainly will not win any beauty contests. In fact, these featherless, scrawny, no eyed things are probably beautiful to only one thing, their mother. It is hard to imagine that not too long from now, they will be adult birds with feathers flying and doing what they were created to do. But their mother doesn't care, she cares for them knowing they are more than what they look like right now. Right now, they are helpless. As we peeked in at them, they stretched out their necks and opened their mouths wide. Expectantly waiting for their mother to return with food, an act of faith since they couldn't see what had made the air move around them.

As I thought about these little birds, I was reminded about Jesus' words in Matthew 6. Jesus uses the birds to remind us of God's love and provision for us. And I thought about how I can be a scrawny, naked, no eyed creature, yet God promises to take care of me. Just like the Mother bird, God cares for and protects me even when I look nothing like the child he created me to be. It is a great mystery to understand God's provision of us, his creation which so often falls short. And also, just like the little birds who trust in their mother's provision. All I must do is wait expectantly for God to take care of my needs. He requires nothing of me. Yet, another mystery of God's amazing grace. These birdies may be so ugly only a mother could love them. But in the end, they point to a gift so wonderful I can't see them as anything but beautiful.


 

 

Seeing Out of the Box

Every Mom is given a special gift. It is bestowed upon women when their children are young and is seen as a great gift by her family. It is the gift of sight. I remember as a kid, Mom seemed to have eyes in the back of her head and eyes that could see through walls and doors. How else could she walk in right as I was holding the scissors to cut the hair of her antique doll? Or how could she know my brother and I were sneaking cookies out of the freezer? I was in awe of this special gift but the one I was most in awe of was her ability to find things that were lost. I would search and search for something. She would walk into my room. Glance quickly and say, "If it was a snake it would have bit you." Hand me what I was looking for and walk back out. I stood with my mouth open wondering just how she did it.

Of course, somehow I was bestowed the same gift when I had children. I find myself repeating my Mom's words and telling my kids to "open your eyes, its right in front of you!" But still they can't see it. Perhaps it is not a gift of Mom's but a slow maturing skill of youth. Whatever it is, sometimes when I hear Jesus speak to his disciples, I think he sounds like a Mom trying to make them open their eyes and understand. Jesus saw the world with the eyes of the Messiah, God's son. In the Gospels, we see him trying to teach the disciples there is more around them than meets the eye. He was trying to get the disciples to see outside of their box. And as believers, he is also trying to get us to look outside of our small understanding of the world and to see a much bigger reality.

In the first four chapters of John, we see Jesus expanding the vision of the disciples and other witnesses at the Cleansing of the Temple. "Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up." Or with Nicodemus. "I assure you, unless you are born again, you can never see the Kingdom of God." Then again with the Samaritan woman. "But the water I give takes away thirst altogether." These statements make no sense when viewed within earth's framework. But Jesus is pointing to God's Kingdom and calling those who believe to see something more than what is in front of their eyes. In all of the Gospels, Jesus chastises those around him for not understanding what he is pointing to, something outside the box. He challenges the disciples to open their eyes.

For me, I know when I was living away from God I lost the vision I once knew. When the Spirit within me is leading me, I see things differently. I see the needs of others, not just my own needs. I understand my own attitudes as sinful where before I justified them as necessary. Things I hadn't seen before are now clear as day. Just as Jesus called his disciples to look beyond the earth and themselves, the Spirit leads me to see beyond my own limited world. We need Kingdom eyes, not earthly eyes in order to see all the glorious gifts God has given us which "if they were a snake just might bite us."

For further reading: 1 Corinthians 13:12; Mark 4:10-13

When Job Prayed

Over the past few years, I have skimmed through Job. He is my model for facing the tragedies of life. Ever since I lost what I feared losing the most, Job's story has resonated with me. But my focus has been on how he dealt with what he lost and not on what happens in the final chapter. After all, I knew the end of the story and being cynical or superstitious didn't want to expect my own life to be blessed like Job's. However, as I read and not skimmed the final chapter, I was surprised by two verses.

"I had heard about you before, but now I have seen you with my own eyes. I take back everything I said, and I sit in dust and ashes to show my repentance." (Job 42:5)

Job's words throughout the entire book seemed to mirror my own as I struggled to understand why things have happened in my own life. Why didn't God step in and protect my children from the pain they have endured? Why didn't God protect those who served Him? Even though much of the pain endured was the result of sin, couldn't Almighty God have brought about change and redemption at any point? Couldn't He have restored relationships and changed lives?

In the end, Job has his moment before God and God puts him in his place. The questions of why are not the right questions. Rather, it is the question of "whom." It is not about why God allowed things to happen but about who God is. For me, I have come full circle with God, too. After a couple of years of railing at Him with questions and asking for explanations, I have come to a point where those things are no longer needed. For in the presence of the all powerful and all merciful God the only thing that matters is knowing He is in control. And like Job I can say, "I had heard about you before, but now I have seen you with my own eyes. I take back everything I said, and I sit in dust and ashes to show my repentance." (Job 42:6). In acknowledging God's control, I let go of the burden of understanding and rejoice in the assurance God will never abandon me.

In the past, I thought it was these words out of Job's mouth that sparked the beginning of God restoring his fortunes. But as I read closer I discovered something very different. God rebukes the friends who had argued with Job and required them to make a special sacrifice. And then God instructs Job to pray for his friends who have spoken incorrectly. It is at this point where God begins to bless Job.

"When Job prayed for his friends, the Lord restored his fortunes. In fact, the Lord gave him twice as much as before!" (Job 42:10)

Job's blessing is tied to prayer and not just prayers for himself but prayers for others. For 41 chapters, Job is most concerned about himself and why the tragedy happened. He laments that he didn't deserve such anguish and pain. He wonders why and how he will continue to live in such misery. In chapter 42, we see how Job is re-oriented and the focus moves from himself, to God and then to others. In my own life, I see how God's healing touch has shown me the same thing. When I don't worry about the reasons and accept my place in God's care, the focus moves from myself and onto others.

For Job, it is a two-fold action. First, he prays for those he feels anger toward. These so-called friends called him a liar and told him he deserved to receive the pain he endured. These friends didn't provide comfort for him but added to his pain. So like Jesus will later suggest, Job is asked to pray for those who might be seen as enemies. This is a difficult task for anyone. For myself, it is through God's power alone and in submission to his leading that I can pray for those who have caused pain to me or my family. It has only been recently I have been able to say even the simplest prayer for the ones who have hurt me. And it is only when I am trusting God is in control that I can even think about it.

Second, Job is asked to move outside of his own need and pray for the needs of others. He is called to mediate between God and his friends and bring them right in their relationship with God. Before my divorce, I loved praying for others. It was an honor and a joy to intercede for others, lifting up the needs of others to God. After, I could barely say the simplest of prayers and couldn't pray for anyone. It has been a great joy to me that this love of intercession is returning to my life. I find great joy in praying for others again. I lift up my kids, my friends, and others to God. I pray as I fall asleep and as I awake in the mornings. I honestly thought I would never pray for others again. Now, it feels like a miracle that the desire has returned. God is good.

I would never presume that I will now know the same abundant blessing that God showed Job. Rather, I see Job as a fellow sojourner on a road to healing and wholeness. Healing from bitterness and anger is an enormous blessing alone, how could I ask for more? I have seen God with my own eyes, what more could I ask for? God is good and God is faithful. He is in control.