Taming the Beast

A year and a half ago I smacked up against a situation I didn't know how to handle. Actually, I thought I knew how to handle it, but had I carried out my original plan the consequences could have been disastrous.

After Bobby received the news that he had been chosen to be a coach for the Houston Astros we were elated. We put our house on the market immediately, thinking it would take months, or even a year to sell. It sold in 4 days. During this time I was traveling nonstop as an educational consultant and speaker for Truly Fed Ministries, while Bobby packed up his jeep and moved to Houston; never to return to our home state of Colorado. The problem was who was going to move the contents of our home from Colorado to Texas? We knew we could save thousands of dollars doing it ourselves, and frankly, we didn't have the money to pay someone to move us.

As we looked ahead to making a plan, we realized that scheduling this move was going to be tough. I had a speaking engagement in northern California,would get home on a Sunday night to pack the house into a giant moving van on Monday, then begin the drive from Colorado to Texas by myself,as Bobby was in the middle of his baseball season and couldn't take off to help me drive. Once I got to Texas I'd dump the contents of our truck in a storage garage, and have 5 days to reorganize before leaving to work in Uganda. Needless to say, I was going to be tired!

Before leaving Colorado I met my friend Margaret one day for lunch, and was sharing with her our plan for the move. She looked at me quizzically and said "You're crazy! Why don't I drive the moving van with you to Texas?" I was in shock because honestly, the thought of asking for help never dawned on me. Here she was, mother to two kids, full-time job as an high ranking executive at a large company--offering to help me drive a dirty moving truck to Texas. When I asked her why she would do that her response was "Why wouldn't I?"

I've never forgotten that. She had a thousand good reasons to never even mention helping me. I didn't expect an ounce of help, and she was offering it without an inkling of emotion as to the strain it would put on her family and co-workers.

Margaret and I had quite an adventure. We affectionately named the truck "The Beast" as we rolled down the highway at top speeds of 45 mph. People at gas stations would stop and stare at us, when finally one woman shouted "You two are my heroes!" She even asked to take our picture hanging out the doors of our beloved beast.

I've often thought that if Margaret hadn't been with me I'm certain I would have struggled to stay awake and alert. I had just come off an intense speaking schedule where I hardly slept for days. Every time she took the wheel I slumped into the passenger seat and was asleep mid-sentence. I know I couldn't have physically lasted through the rolling highway that lulled me into a snoring haze.

Whenever I think about that move I think about Margaret. She echoed in her behavior the words of Jesus when He said "Greater love has no one than this, that one lay down his life for his friends." And although we don't need to drive giant trucks across state borders with people to show we care...sometimes we just need to lay down our lives for a few moments and pay attention to what's going on. A call, a card, a hug.

When we lay down our lives for someone else, what we've laid down is often just what they need to build up. We lay down, friends build up...it's a great way to tame our beasts.

Blessings!
Gari

A Place to Meet

Today I did something crazy. For those of you who know me, you know that's not unusual! I took a lawn chair, my bible, and a notebook--and pulled up to a path of trees. I've walked this path before, as it sits on the edge of a giant paved parking lot next to my beloved church. What fascinates me is this chunk of land is now forgotten. It used to have a farm on it, and from the look of the worn path, possibly a barn. It must have been a grand site. There's a stunning dirt road carved out of stately trees that line what was probably an orchard strewn walkway leading to a farmhouse that once sheltered a family. People homesteaded this land decades ago, long before they knew that one day a church the size of a small city would sit on their humble stretch of land.

It was on this land that I had a "tree meeting" with God. Before you assume I've lost my mind...let me explain. Several months ago I was reeling from a large dose of insecurity. So many questions fighting for validity in my mind. "Am I smart enough to continue to write books?" "Now that I'm in the big leagues of writing, can I keep up with the demands and the work load?" "What if I fail, and let everyone, including God, down?" With the force of a linebacker, the questions keep knocking the breath right out of me.

One day I came upon a scripture that seemed to spread ointment over my chaffed soul.
"Blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord, For she will be like a tree planted by the water,that extends its roots by a stream, and will not fear when the heat comes; but its leaves will be green, and it will not be anxious in a year of drought...nor cease to yield fruit." Jeremiah 17

For months I kept looking for "my" tree. I pictured a fabulous oak stretched out over a trickling creek. I thought it may be in the mountains, or on a running trail that I would lean up next to and call mine. After looking for that tree for seven months, I was stunned to find it in a paved parking lot.

Every Monday morning before the sun would rise I would walk this lot, praying for God to shine His favor on the speaking and teaching I would deliver in that church on Monday evenings. Boy did He show up! One week as I strolled the lot praying, I looked up at the string of trees that somehow I had missed for months. As I meandered through them, the sun seemed to shine so thick over one of the tree's branches that it looked like it was coated in gold and caramel--gooey enough to lick and bright enough to grab sunglasses to block the glare. I stood there speechless, and quietly uttered a prayer, "Is this my tree God?" The goosebumps on my skin told me it was.

So this morning I plopped a lawnchair in the back of my jeep, and sat down next to my tree for some time of peaceful insight and praise. The questions that beat me up still surface now and then, but I know the truth that silences them. I nudged next to my tree outlined by a black paved parking lot and busy highway...relishing the new place I have to meet with God. Sometimes He shows up in unexpected paths and parking lots...

Blessings!
Gari

test run

Back on Track!

To all my blogging friends...so sorry for the time that has lapsed between my last post. I got a new lap top, and for some reason this new computer wouldn't let me post my blogs. Truthfully, even my Geek Squad buddy at Best Buy couldn't figure the problem out, but thankfully I think we're back on track! Look for some brand new blogs coming up in the next week or two!
Big Hugs,
Gari
(No...I'm not in the vintage picture of the cheerleaders...Smile...)

Getting out of our Bathrobes

It may be hard to believe, but I actually started a recent speaking engagement in my hot pink, fuzzy robe! The ladies looked at me as if I were half crazy, which once they heard me speak, was confirmed. The truth is, I love my robe... and I love my jammies too. I've been known to go for a jog, run errands, and spend an entire day buzzing around in my favorite nightie T-shirt. Even though I love wearing this shirt, I'm always hoping I don't run into someone I know. I may be comfortable, but I'm not really functioning my best in it.

When it comes to belief in God,we need to get out of our bathrobes. Comfort isn't the essential factor in faith, having some guts is.

In the Gospel of Mark a man brings his son to Jesus. The boy had severe convulsions, so bad that the father was is beside himself with despair. When Jesus asked him how long this had been happening, the jolted dad responded with a litany of pain, and topped his response off with "If you can do anything, take pity on us and help us!"

Jesus responded "If You can! All things are possible to him who believes."

With a sigh in his voice and heart the man shouted back "I do believe; help my unbelief."

This man's cry is the cry of humanity--we do believe, but in the same breath, we don't. Believing that God can actually change the things that hurt us the most may be one of the hardest things about faith. We can't live in our bathrobes and expect to go deeper in our belief.

This desperate father was authentic about his struggle to believe, and still had the guts to present his son to Jesus for a miracle. Faith is messy, and anyone who has ever needed God to transform a life, a habit, a marriage, a disease, a job, a dream--utters the same gutsy plea that this father did.

"I do believe, help my unbelief" is authentic and fresh. It pushes us out of our bathrobes into a gutsy stanz for faith to flourish.
Blessings!
Gari

Postured to Hear

I find myself feeling tired and it's only 10:30 in the morning! My day has already been packed with "must do" and "have to" activities. Like most women today, I'm blazing through my life at a speed that could make the space shuttle look slow.

In the midst of my bulging day, I've pondered how I listen for God. I'm convinced that how we listen for God, can determine our filling by God. So many of us beg to hear from God, and sadly, when He tries to speak to us, we bristle right by Him.

In scripture, there's an interesting pattern to how Jesus filled people.
"And when it was evening the disciples came to Him saying 'The place is desolate, and the time is already past; so send the multitudes away, that they may go into the villages and buy food for themselves.'
But Jesus said to them 'They don't need to go away; you give them something to eat!'
And they said to Him, 'We have here only five loaves and two fish.' And He said 'Bring them here.'
And ordering the multitudes to sit down on the grass, He took the five loaves and two fish, and looking up toward heaven, He blessed the food and gave it to His disciples to give to the multitudes. They all ate and were satisfied, and there were 12 baskets of food leftover." (Matthew 14)

The multitude Jesus fed could have been as many as 10 thousand people! The bible says there were 5,000 men, and this didn't include women and children. That's a big crowd and way you slice it, but what's fascinating is how Jesus chose to get their attention so they could be fed. He made them sit down! Prior to this they were milling around, talking to one another, interacting, trying to get a closer look at the healings taking place. Before they could receive a filling, they had to sit. In another encounter shortly after this one, Jesus said the exact same thing to another huge crowd. "And He directed the multitude to sit down on the ground." (Matthew 15)

Why does Jesus insist on a posture of sitting? Simply put, we don't hear very well when we're milling around! To hear from Him, be filled by Him, and have enough for baskets of left-overs; we have to sit down and be still.

Sometimes I practice this by turning off my radio while I'm driving, or keeping the house quiet while I get dressed. Sometimes it looks like getting up a little early to just kneel or sit without an agenda with God. However it may look in our lives... being still may be the most productive thing we do today.

Blessings!
Gari