the dance

My granddaughter began dance lessons last week. She is not quite three yet and so little of the actual techniques are taught. She is learning to follow directions and move along with the music and the others. She has learned certain positions and she has shared her new knowledge willingly, demonstrating just how one becomes an elephant in dance. Grammy was impressed. I never achieved an elephant while dancing, I must say. And when music comes on and all the boys run for the rhythm instruments, my girl usually puts whatever she gets down fairly quickly in favor of spinning and moving her arms about with graceful waves. She truly is Grammy's girl. Grammy's heart still dances even when my body doesn't.

There are Hebrew words translated to say rejoice that really mean things like skip, leap, twist, dance, spin, move in a sacred procession, shake violently. Just a little more expressive than "make glad" wouldn't you say? Our lives are sacrifices of praise when we live "unto the Lord" and the movement of our bodies speak to that.

I remember standing in a Christian coffee house several years back and watching a group of kids "moshing". Watching them through squinted eyes I wondered how could this bring God glory. The funny thing is that those very definitions flew into my thoughts immediately and I remembered wondering what "shaking violently" would look like. Hmmm.

I'm not asking you to agree with me as to whether any particular form of "dance" is godly. I'm just thinking about how we use our bodies to bring glory and become living sacrifices to him. The church in general many years ago decided dance was evil or maybe they really decided it was too much trouble, this is good, but that is not. Then in the 70's & 80's a huge revival of worship dance came into the church through the charismatic movement. Some of it filtered into the 90's and even today. For the most part though, I think it has been put back on the shelf once again too much.

Whatever the church does with dance in the place of corporate worship my prayer is that my grandchildren will find those secret moments of intimate worship that exist between them and Him and in those moments find the tangible dance of the spirit that touches deep and calls to deep. For it is in those moments that I have found who I am in Him, who He is in me, and what the dance is really all about.

The Dance
The rhythm
the movement
entwining of feet
the flow of the fabric
ribbons fall in graceful billows
the point of the toe
a finger
eyes lift to Him
from the heart
not for show
in sharing
from the spirit
submission of the flesh
act of worship
living sacrifice
clc

tasting, trusting, moving, crazy fast

I don't know about your life, but my life feels crazy sometimes. Not crazy like funny or over-the-top. No, crazy like mentally insane. And this usually happens when really good things are going down.

This past weekend was one of those crazies. We got a call on Wed. asking us to come for an interview for a school we wanted to send our son to. Sure, no problem we can come in a week or two. No, Friday. Friday? Like 2 days from now? Yes.

So schedules were rearranged, info passed to who needs it, really discussing and fussing over the details that were being discussed but not in urgency. Run a five hour drive on Thurs. for an interview and tour on Friday. Home on Friday. Shopping on Saturday. Family goodbyes on Sunday and packing. Up early Monday and 5 hours there to leave behind our precious boy.

I expected it to be hard. I thought I would cry on the way home. I didn't. It really wasn't. Not because I don't miss him. Not because I'm not emotional. I do. I am. It was easier in one sense because the reality of his leaving for long term is not real to me yet. But even more, the reality that this was something only the Lord could pulled off. help with the finances so that it could happen; Tim wanting to go and liking the idea (at least until the last minute); even my husband being in and ok with it, none of that was normal or easy. yet, it was easy. It happened and everything fell into place.

The weekend passed and Tim is there and the house if extremely quiet. My heart is assured by this peace that is beyond natural. I know this is right. Crazy fast weekend aside, it all worked out perfectly; or maybe because of the crazy fast weekend. There was no time to chew on it, think it through further, mull it over and discuss it unceasingly. It happened. It is what I was praying for. It's put together and I know He did this. I stand believing that what is left to come together to make this work will come together. For I didn't act rashly; I prayed for three months and then moved when told to move.

And the complete assurance of scripture is that because I am trusting the Lord to work this out for Tim's good and mine, I know that I can't really make a mistake. He will work it out for our best. I trust Him. He has never given me reason not to and every reason to lean on Him.

(Proverbs 5:3; Rom. 8:28; Ps. 34:8; Ps. 37:3-6) Blessings, Cheri

Praising Him for the Pressure

A familiar feeling hit me today. I am overwhelmed, overwhelmed by the various resposibilities that are weighing on me, overwhelmed by my inability to juggle all that seems to be required of me. There are balls falling left and right and it bothers me. There are huge balls that are threatening to crush me if they fall, and so I dash here and there in an attempt to keep the balls from dropping. It reminds me of the variety shows I watched as a kid and the plate spinners they would feature. Does anyone remember those? The guys that would set a plate on a thin pole and spin it, move to the next and do the same, continuing down the poles and then running back to spin the others again, and eventually grabbing them off safely or every once in awhile a plate would crash and he'd toss another up on the pole and spin it. Yup, I feel like that.

I started working part time at our garage again in the office. I started homeschooling Tim for eighth grade while looking for a better option for both him and me. I started my fourth year toward my degree and I am totally confused with what I'm doing there. I have been desperately trying to spend some time with my brand new grandson, Saor. Haven't worked on my writing in weeks now. Been fussing with phones and computers that didn't work. School shopping, end of summer events, school meetings, and all the stuff that goes with this portion of life. I feel burnt out without ever getting started.

I can't let anything go and I don't think I am doing anything beyond what I am called to do. So what can be the answer then? "Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perserverance. Perserverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. If any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to him." (NIV)

Ok, what I am trying to say is this, I don't feel joyful, but when I think about any testing, any pressure, any persecution (of which I face very little) I can be sure by the Word of God that it will test my faith to develop perserverance. And I want to be perservering because that creates maturity in my faith, and completeness and lacking for nothing. Those are things I have asked the Lord to create in me, to build into my faith. I pray at least daily for wisdom and then I want to complain about the pressure, the weight, the pace, the responsibilities; when in truth I should be praising God for answered prayer!

I don't know how this all will all work out. I don't know for certain that the choices for schooling Tim will work out the way I hope or that I will do a wonderful job on my first assignment for seminary or that I can do the office work and manage to keep up with the teenagers schedules. What I do know though is simple, God's word is true and he is using this to bring my faith into a deeper more complete place, lacking nothing and being granted wisdom for what I need.

So today, I am praising him for the pressure!

Proverbs 17:6

"Do you want to stay for the whole service?" I looked at my husband like he'd lost his mind. Of course I wanted to stay for the whole service. We were only 20 minutes or so into the morning and it was the quiet, reverent, prayer time where we are offered the opportunity to come forward and receive prayer for our needs. Rich had volunteered in the parking lot that morning and was just arriving to our seats. He leaned into my shoulder as he asked, handing his cell phone toward my eyes. I glanced at the phone and saw a text message. I read the message and my heart leaped with the joy and anticipation for the what those words held. Nothing else could have made me react so in the middle of a church service.

"Baby brother meadows born. you can come." My daughter Kristi had delivered her second child and her husband, Dan was inviting us to come see our newest grandson.

I squealed in delight like a child myself, startling some of the worshipers around us. Gathering my things and moving my son out of the row, I stopped to explain to a couple near us and felt my throat tighten with the familiar emotion of overwhelming joy. My baby had her baby; they were both safe.

Saor (Say-er) Meadows entered the world from the safety of his mother's womb at 9:16 am, August 15, 2010 weighing in at 7 lbs. and 19 inches, looking very much like his older brother at birth.

Cadan, Kristi's older child had been present in the bedroom for the birth and watched with apparent ease, reading and singing to the baby. Big brother sang "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" to "Baby Brother" as the tiny new person rested against his mother's side.

When we arrived at the house we sat for a few minutes down stairs waiting. Rich and Tim headed to Duncan Donuts to buy some celebration for when the rest arrived. Even though this is grandbaby number six we knew everyone who could get here would, both our family and Dan's. Our daughter, Melanie was already texting every few minutes to see when she could come.

While Dad and brother headed to the store, I went up with Kristi. The little tiny person lay in the crook of her arm and she lay sideways on the bed covered in a blanket. I looked at her and felt the surge of love and gratitude for the privilege of being her mom. There was my baby girl, my first child, holding her child. She didn't even look tired. Her hair framed her face and her eyes sparkled with pride. I didn't even realize the baby was still attached and the placenta had not delivered yet. Here she was looking ready for the Oscars, well almost. Good work, my sweet girl. I am ever so proud of you. Thanks for this beautiful grandson.

Baby Meadows the second, Grandchild number six, Grandson five, eighteenth dinner table chair for Thanksgiving, came into the world on Sunday morning, expelling a shout for joy from Grammy and a song of joy from his big brother. Saor, you are engraved on our hearts and a beautiful leaf on the tip of our branch. Welcome sweet boy, welcome. Grammy is already singing your song. Thanks be to the gracious and good God, Lord Jesus Creator for the abundance of life and beauty He has brought into my life and the family He has surrounded me with.

I am working on a story about the woman at the well from John 4. I love to sink into the stories of scripture and dig for the treasures and this story in a few short verses is full of them.

One of the things that catches my eye is that she tells the town, "He told me everything about my life!" Wait, look back at the conversation. No he didn't. What's she talking about? But the point is, he told her what she considered to be important points that touched on tender spots; he spoke in details that a stranger should not know. So in essence he had told her about "everything". It convinced her that he was special, sent by God, a prophet. Not quite the fullness of the truth.

Then he proclaims, right out in the open, straight from his mouth, "I am he." She had just talked about "Taheb", "Messiah", "Christ". Now he tells her plainly, "yup, that's me!" Rarely does Christ announce his birthright so clearly and here he is speaking to a Samaritan, a woman, a woman of low morals, and she's who he chooses to reveal himself to? Wow, now I would have picked someone much loftier, worthy, respectable, or reverent. But then, maybe that's at least part of the point. She needed him. She was one of the sick who needed a physician. She was broken and needed fixing. She wasn't put together and on the A list. She wasn't on any list anyone would want to be on. She knew who she was and she knew she was hopeless. Or did she?

When she begins talking religion, because after all what do you talk to a prophet about other than religious stuff (at least those outside the walls of the Kingdom might think so), she shows some signs of hope if not faith. "When Messiah comes he will reveal all things." How did she know that? This miscreant with the improbable moment in history is showing signs of hope, of faith? She seems to be. And Jesus rewards her with the revelation.

Can you imagine the thunder in her heart as his words penetrate her thoughts and understanding? Can you see her face begin to glow? Can you feel the revelation that not only is this Messiah, but he has just revealed the worst about you and not rejected you, but gave acceptance and even respect in conversing and revealing as much as he had? Can you understand the freedom she must have felt as she left that water jar and ran the trail back into town to tell about him to those who have rejected her? I can. I remember that first moment of revelation when the thunder of his words beat within my heart and so many times after as the revelation came and comes afresh and for me. I can see the glow on the friends and loved one as they "get it" when the Holy Spirit reveals something of Messiah to them. I have felt that acceptance and even respect when the rest of the world seemed to have no use for me, but He did. I have felt that freedom that only my Jesus can bring into the moment of weariness and weight. Have you?

Sunday, July 25 we returned from a family dinner out in the midst of tornado warnings and a thunderstorm. As we exited the car a huge flash of lightening filled the passengers side and a clap that announced something close had been hit. It was pouring rain and in the middle of it none of us heard or saw the other family members reaction to it. We hurried inside and dried off.

Later that evening we found the kitchen phone wasn't working and neither was the cable for the tv or internet. We thought the lightening had knocked out local services and called to report it (from our cell phones of course). Sure enough we were informed that many had lost power, cable, and phone service in the area. At least we had electric.

After two days of no tv, no internet, and no land line we were all reverting to 1918 apparel and wonderin' about those strange looking cars in the front of the house. Actually we started wondering if maybe it was more than just a local outage. So Rich checked the kitchen phone line. The bedroom line seemed to be restored but the kitchen was still down. Swap phones out and check, the line did not work. Plug the kitchen phone in the bedroom, the phone did not work there. So neither the line nor the phone were working. So he got busy checking the rest of the equipment. In the end we lost the router (and are still having trouble getting the new one to work properly). The tv Rich got to work but the wii is fried. The lightening had also bounced across to a second tree and knocked a few branches off, blew the breaker to the pond and waterfall, and made a mess of the yard.

Cutting the grass on Tuesday of that week Tim realized there was a huge amount of wood around the tree line and started looking at the trees. Sure enough, lightening had hit one of the trees on a limb and traveled through the limb and down the bark exploding out the bottom of the tree and shooting across the yard to our cable box (and phone line) and popped it good.

Now you know why there was no blog from me last Monday. I had no internet all week (and still not on my laptop). But I started thinking about how that one single bolt of lightening had affected our lives, all of it pretty minor compared to what lightening is capable of, and yet still it affected every person who lives here for days. How often in the spirit something comes into our lives with the potential to destroy and even though we may be sitting in the shelter of His wing, there are still effects from the strike. I don't know about you, but I find it less of a decision to stand for the Lord when it is a major moment and all eyes are on me. Then there is no choice. But when the "foxes are among the grape vines" and causing several minor issues, that's when I'm caught off guard and get frustrated, angry, and fail to walk in the way He walks before me. Just like the frustration of not having internet on my laptop and having to wait my turn for the computer, or knowing that the brand new game that never got played but was opened and nonreturnable is sitting on the shelf never to be played on our wii, and while I run like a crazy lady in a 5K run across the house to reach the bedroom before the phone goes to message, since we have no kitchen or family room line now, in the same manner I can see those small things in the spirit that zap my peace and my oh-so-good intentions.

I also find that the loud noise of the issues also can separate me from what others are going through. Like the four of us doing whatever was natural for each of us, so in the spirit we may cringe and pull away. But what a mistake that is when we retreat from others in our moment of need. We may be embarrassed or frightened in some way to share, but the answer lies in connection to the body. Just like the lightening zapping the source of power, if we allow those issues to separate us from the body of Christ, we also lose power. We are not intended to do this Christian thing alone. It is always a group effort in some measure.

I am learning how important it is to stand firm against the fiery darts of the enemy. And how do we do that? According to Ephesians 6:17-18 we take the sword of the Spirit and "pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests . . .and we keep on praying for all the saints."

The Word of God and the power of a praying saint are undefeatable for we are powered, protected, and pushed forward by His Spirit. Even when we fall it is used for our good and His glory. How can we possibly go wrong?

Small things

I noticed something yesterday with fresh eyes. It was one of those revelations that is more of an "oh, yeah!" rather than an "ah-ha!" I need to be reminded once in awhile of things I already know to be true. Sometimes in the day to day flow of life, things, important things get lost in the shuffle of activity. Yesterday brought one of those moments, and like breathing deeply the rush of air filling your lungs, I awoke an understanding that had been just sitting there waiting for notice.

The "oh, yeah!" was recognizing the hand of God in the small things of my life. When my oldest three daughters got married, each wedding was an "ah-ha!" moment as I saw the Lord doing something amazing. When each one of my grandchildren were born there was that moment when awe and the spirituality of the moment was thick with His presence. I love the fact that the Lord doesn't dwell in those huge moments of life only though. I love that He has chosen to live in relationship with each of us, individually in the mundane, the everyday as well as the huge, spectacular moments.

I was packing my purse getting ready to leave for church yesterday morning. There nearby was a pile of business cards. Now I just had these things made up to take with me to a conference I am attending in August and don't usually carry them around everyday. When I saw them I felt a "nudge" to take some with me and so I grabbed a few and popped them into the pocket of the purse. I attended church with my parents in Harrington yesterday, having the opportunity to sing. After the service the guest pastor came over to comment on my song and asked if I would come to their church and sing. I handed him the card I had been "nudged" to bring.

I have been praying for more opportunities to sing. I don't call people and ask for opportunity or time in their service and I have no desire for a "singing ministry". I just miss singing, so I asked the Lord to open up a couple of doors. I wanted the chance to sing for others and in the process hoped to bring God glory and bless Him. Here in this small thing, this little desire of my heart and the small prayer request that would not have been a big disappointed if He said "No you've already had that day. It's over.", in that small thing, the "nudge", the card packed, the invitation, the giving of the card, I was reminded that He is involved in my small things, the little desires of my heart. He is constantly orchestrating my path to bring into the fulfillment of His plan. It's part of the relationship.

Now you might be thinking, "big deal, she carried a card! Isn't that what cards are for? How's that God's hand?" All I can say is those small moments of ordinary things bring His presence in my everyday life into focus and remind me that He is present, yes; but more He is looking for relationship with me, daily, on-going, involved in my days relationship. And by the way, He's looking for the daily, on-going, involved in your days relationship with you, too.