DebraBee

When I was on the coast I was able to enjoy a walk alone on the beach. Despite the weather not being very hot, I fulfilled my desire to feel the sand under my feet. I shucked off my shoes and socks, leaving them in a pile near a rock so I wouldn’t forget where they were. Heading to the water line I didn’t play caution but walked straight into the area waves had been rushing.

The first wave to wash over the tops of my feet felt chilling but I was refreshed by the sensation. I hadn’t anticipated the depth or the power of the water so it was a little shocking to have so much of my pant legs get soaked. The more interesting thing I took notice of was how fast the sand shifted beneath my feet making me feel as though I might topple over.

The feeling of not being solidly planted gave me an odd sensation. I wanted to remember what this felt like so I walked back and forth for a while to understand the moving sand in the waves. This took on an importance for me as I had read many times the wisdom of not building your house on an unstable foundation, but actually feeling what it must be like was a tangible lesson to be understood.

Matt 7:25    The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall, because it had its foundation on the rock.

A few years back I bought a book for a young woman who was curious about the Lord and how He would help us. Not being well versed in the word, I didn’t trust myself to share this subject correctly so I looked for a book. The book I chose was relatively simple in reading. I was intrigued by another title I saw that day called, “God Is In The Hard Stuff”. I have never read this but I think about the title often.

I love it when I can feel the grace of God’s hand upon me. You know, those kind of days when it just feels like you can’t make a wrong choice or say a wrong thing? People just love on you for no reason you deserve or expect; very humbling but also very pleasant to be in the middle of.

I have hard days too and that’s when I am reminded of the title of that book. When people aren’t exactly loving on you and it feels quite the opposite; also when you don’t make right choices and everything you say is wrong in some way or another. Days such as these draw me in deep to know how much I need my Father’s grace and His wisdom.

It’s funny how you would think His favor would be what makes you love and need Him desperately but that’s not the reality. The reality is to know, without Him, you are looking at the ugly side of life, in others and in yourself. That’s when you face the desperation of needing to know His love.

For my life, God is definitely in the hard stuff.

San Francisco isn’t too far from where I live. Now and again I will take the ferry over and just wander the streets to absorb the pulse of the city. My favorite activity has no agenda; to walk about, sometimes catching a cable car or taxi at my whim. There is a tangible energy one can often feel within the people you meet; not all of course. Some are so vibrant they exude an expectation of life to be lived in fullness of the moment.

I am sure you can find this in any group of people when gathered together, but since cities have such a huge concentration of humanity in a small area, it just seems easier to notice.

This makes me think about “community” in our society. In times of old, I’m sure people drew together out of common needs to help one another for practical purposes. Of course families and friendships would multiply in such an environment. What is “community” today though? I was challenged by a question last week asking if I knew my neighbors. My answer was I don’t know any of them more than a wave hello a few times a month.

This made me really think about a truth within me from a practical viewpoint. For all the many ways I try to encourage and love people, how can I ever love my neighbor as I love myself if I don’t even know their names?

Karl Marx is quoted, “Religion is the sigh of the oppressed creature, the heart of a heartless world, and the soul of soulless conditions. It is the opium of the people.” This 19^th century German philosopher and revolutionary thought religion to be a tool of the government to keep its people under control.

I am not a fan of religion myself, and for those who don’t walk in faith this is confusing since they see anyone loving Jesus as confessing a religion. Quite often I have strange conversations where someone wants to box me into their preconceived notions. They assume that if I am a Christian than I must be “religious” and now they want to know what kind of “religion” am I.

I can only smile and reply, “my religion is love”.

Publicly we acknowledge mothers as being special today. Flowers, candies, dinners, gift cards and the various assortments meant to display our affection for these special chicks. I try to convey my love more than once a year and although I have lofty goals, let’s face it, I miss a lot, but now and again I hit one!

Being a mother myself, I get the fact it’s not about your kid calling you on a commercialized calendar date, but it’s about having a relationship where you feel pretty good no matter what day they call you.

I’d have to say my moms are pretty darn cool, so in the nature of tipping my hat to them, I offer a special act of love….I wrote their names on my arm to acknowledge my heart felt sincerity. I hope I spelled them correctly?

Many years ago I was quite taken by writing from Jean-Jacques Rousseau’s Confessions Part 1 (1712-1778)…..

“I am not made like any of those I have seen; I venture to believe that I am not made like any of those who are in existence. If I am not better, at least I am different.”

Funny how a truth can be recognized even when we are not looking for it. What a wonderful revelation to realize it’s okay to be different, better still would be to embrace our uniqueness for the gift that it is.

What a lovely world we could live in if people didn’t aspire to be like someone else, but rather chose to be themselves.

My husband was kind enough to write a name upon the palm of my right hand tonight. We went to go raise our hands in celebration of the one heavenly Father who is good and strengthens us in our time of weakness. I wanted to remember the importance of lifting a brother up during a time in his life when the trials and tribulations can be discouraging. Each time I raised my hand of strength, I was glad to do so for the sake of another.

I have been laid low many a time and am thankful for those of faith who understood the importance of coming alongside of me during the hours I felt weak and tired. Without such encouragement I may well have fallen victim to the lies my enemy spews.

Ex 17:11-13 (NKJV)  And so it was, when Moses held up his hand, that Israel prevailed; and when he let down his hand, Amalek prevailed. But Moses’ hands became heavy; so they took a stone and put it under him, and he sat on it. And Aaron and Hur supported his hands, one on one side, and the other on the other side; and his hands were steady until the going down of the sun. So Joshua defeated Amalek and his people with the edge of the sword.

I have to say in the battle of life, I look forward to being one who is willing to come help another see the victory they are meant to have. I only know to do this because of the strength others have offered me when I need it most.