Tuesday, January 31, 2006

I am kinda tired of walking today.....Its been a hard day and I am just kinda tired of walking...

Monday, January 30, 2006

Middle School Football, you gotta love it!!
I always liked this Coach Childers. Everytime he brought a kid in on the sidelines he would put an arm around him, like Sam and Max in this picture, and tell him what he needed to do. When they came off the field he would clap for them. Sam likes Coach Childers. There's this other coach that yells all the time. I just envision him calling plays at home. Sam told me Coach Childers spoke at Fellowship of Christian Athletes and told an amazing story.
I think Jesus is like Coach Childers or the other way around. He pulls me to the sidelines and says, "Okay, this is what we gotta do.." I'm glad I have a coach that I can trust who loves me and doesn't just yell plays to me and claps for me when I come off the field. He also benches me when I need it....that's a good thing.

Friday, January 27, 2006

Can I just say that I love my Sam? I love all the middle school boys that come to my house. I love Max....I love Parker....I love Eric.....
They are like toddlers trying to be real. In their coolness their heart is still calling out, "Help me, this world is really scarey!"
We made the trip to Winterfest, last weekend, and I got to watch all four of these precious boys love each other. This guy, Jeff Walling, really spoke to their hearts. They were broken. They were brought to tears not only thinking about the young boy who was not in there midst this year, but also thinking about who they are. I watched these cool, athlete guys hug and comfort each other. Let me tell you it was way cool!
Last night, Sam asked me to come listen to this song. Okay, this is my boy who listens to yes, christian music, but does like him some rap music too. He said, "Mom, I don't know why I just can't stop listening to this song."

I think I know why....


In only moment truth
Was seen revealed this mystery
The crown that showed no dignity he wore
And the kind was placed for all the world
To show disgrace
But only beauty flowed from his face

Would you take the place of this man
Would you take the nails from his hands
Would you take the place of this man
Would you take nails from his hands

And we just don't know the blood and water flowed
And in it all he showed just how much he cared
And the veil was torn
So we could have this open door
And all these things have finally been complete

Tuesday, January 24, 2006

I am sick........we'll talk later.
Have an amazing day

Friday, January 20, 2006

This is my opening farewell...
Well..I am off to spend the weekend with two bus loads of middle school and some high school kids. Aheevay, (something that "like butter" lady would say on Saturday Night Live) you may ask, have you lost your mind?, ..Well, some would say my mind was lost, but I am so excited about this weekend. These kids absolutely energize me...these little precious souls are embarking on a journey again this year, that last year ended in tragedy with the loss of one of our precious little boys. "Wreck." Man, that word will alway conjur memories of what our church family went through last year.
We covet your prayers for a safe trip and for us as sponsors to be ever sensitive to these kids, also for their hearts to be open as God opens His heavens and rains down love, acceptance, encouragement on their little hearts. I know it will be a downpour.
And....I am not so presumptious to think that this weekend, though it is a youth conference, is just for the youth. I know God has something to tell me at this Winterfest and maybe I'll just let you in on it when I get back.
I love you all and God bless your weekend!

Wednesday, January 18, 2006

I'm going to rent myself a house
In the shade of the freeway
I'm going to pack my lunch in the morning
And go to work each day
And when the evening rolls around
I'll go on home and lay my body down
And when the morning light comes streaming in
I'll get up and do it again
~Jackson Browne~

I don't want to get caught up going through the motions. It seems its been like that the last few days...I want today to be different. I want to embrace each face I encounter and love each heart I see. I want to feel the sun instead of putting it in the category of assumptions of things that will always be there. I want to be filled with adventure and laugh at exhaustion. I want to take great delight in the fact that Jesus is here beside me. He's in my van, in my classes, in my work and in my home. I want to see Him...

Tuesday, January 17, 2006

I have talked to a few people that have alluded to the fact that God sent Katrina to wash away the sins and the city and the people got what they deserved. "Did you know they were about to have a gay parade there right before the storm hit?" Its like I was so taken back I couldn't speak...I wanted to ask her, "Do you really think there is more sin in New Orleans than in Abilene?" We read where the pharisees put themselves above those who supposedly were pretty sinful with some pretty obvious sins. I think Jesus reminded them, in a not so subtle manner, what sin was in their hearts. Yikes..talk about your awkward moment.

Monday, January 16, 2006

I believe in God because of little things like tear ducts. Seriously, I would question someone who does not believe, "How can you not believe in a great God when you can look in the mirror, examine your eyes, and find little holes put there for the sole purpose of the outpouring of our hearts?" That to me is a mind-blowing find. Yes, the whole childbirth thing was quite a miracle but the more convincing evidence of a creator is the differences in my children's personalities. The most recent convincing piece of evidence was the Lament service at our church last night. It is the anniversary of the death of one of our own..Little, sweet, precious Brody Bourland, a 6th grader. Our youth had made a trip to Dallas to a youth conference and on the way home one of the vehicles flipped and wounded these precious children but taking Brody. My son was on the trip and played with Brody in the pool and has stories of Brody going forward giving his little heart to Jesus. Sam wasn't close to Brody but his grief was big, along with the other youth at our church. The youth could do nothing but fall into each other's arms asking each other why. Satan's darkness was blown away by the light of God's love in their dependence on Him and each other. Last night was the Lament service, the rememberance of those we have lost. I watched our youth again fall into each other's arms, weeping, and then surrounding Brody's family with God's love. It was truly a beautiful picture painted by the bright beautiful colors of hope instead of despair. I will never forget that moment.

Sunday, January 15, 2006

I wonder if there was any way she could have known what an impact she would make on so many lives. It was the time of the Civil War. My Great Grandfather, just a boy from Alabama, joined up at 14 or 15 years of age. (Family historian still out on exactly the age.) His time in battle was cut short at a battle at Chattanooga. Samuel Jordan was captured and sent to Philadelphia where he spent the duration of the war imprisoned. She made the decision to go down and visit the prisoners. I wonder why? The prison couldn't have been a nice place for this woman, Bible clutched to her breast. She somehow found my Grandfather and passed a Bible through the prison bars to him. She was God's messenger. My Grandfather found Jesus in prison. When the war ended he made his way back to Alabama and found some whom he could share in this belief with. He later founded a Christian college. At his death, his will revealed the love and friendship shared between my Great Grandfather and a black man who worked for him. This man's name was Joel and was instrumental in the raising not only of my Grandmother but my Mother. Samuel Jordan did something unusual, for that time, when black and white were separate and certainly the black man was undeserving of anything. Samuel Jordan willed acres of land to Joel, a black man. To this day Joel's descendants live on that land. A picture of "Uncle Joel" hangs on my family picture wall, in my home. Needless to say, a few visitors have had some questions.
My Grandmother went on to marry an amazing man. He was a preacher in Alabama. My Mother remembers playing under the trees in Tuskegee as her father would visit with George Washington Carver. She said she remembers looking up and seeing them come out arms around each other's shoulders talking. She said she remembers thinking.."Oh they must be friends." My Mother is a Christian, I am a Christian, my children are Christians, my sibling's children are christians.
Is all this the dominoe affect from an unselfish act as a woman slips a Bible through the bars, to a prisoner of war in Philadelphia?...yes.
So many missionaries, messengers of God, go unnoticed....but I think that's okay with them.

Saturday, January 14, 2006

This is for surfer Jim! My friend, Christy Weathers wrote this and I thought of Jim. I love this piece.

Jesus and I walk down the white shore. He smells like Coppertone and so do I. His board, rough and splintered, is tucked safely beneath his tan arms, a sprinkling of blond hairs mixing with the brown. I smile. His hair always gets lighter in the summer.
He found the board one afternoon as we combed the beach for sand dollars. It was cracked and propped up beside the dumpster of an abandoned souvenir shop. I told him we should find a better one, but he said that this one would do just fine. He fixed the crack, but when I suggested he smooth the wood out and maybe repaint it, he just laughed. He said that he liked the board the way it was, that somebody must have really ridden it hard for it to be cracked that way. "It's already been broken in for me," he said, and grinned.
I clutch my board protectively under my arm too as we gallop towards the water. Jesus found my board for me. It's white with a blue stripe, and I try to keep it clean and shiny, thought it has a few scratches from the usual wear and tear.
He's very good at finding things. He always looks in places that I would never even think to go. Mine was underneath the boardwalk, obscured from sight by empty beer bottles and trash. I never walk that deep beneath the boardwalk, but he says that it's safe-that even though it looks scary under there, you could find a lot of cool stuff if you looked hard enough. The board was in good shape when he found it, but I could tell he'd repainted it for me first.
We jump on the boards as the first wave breaks, our bellies slapping the wood. We paddle quickly, waiting expectantly for the calm before a big one.
I never use to want to ride a big one; I was always too scared. But as I watched Jesus paddle out there, so brave, and ride in with his arms raised triumphantly, water dripping from his beard, I wanted to ride with him. Now, I always go for the big ones, no matter how scared I get, because it's totally worth it.
The wave comes and I paddle, but my arms aren't as strong as Jesus'. Before the water crashes over me, I spy Jesus riding the curl. He always rides the curl. The force of the water forces me down, my knees rubbing into the sands of the Gulf Shore. I try to raise myself up, but my legs are too weak and I collapse beneath the tide. A sea of bubbles swims around my face, my eyes wide open. A hand grasps me by my bathing suit straps, yanking me to the surface. I cough and spit a bit, squinting at Jesus through the stinging salt.
"Ready to go again?" he asks. I nod.

Friday, January 13, 2006

I don't like commas. In fact I don't like punctuation period. (no pun intended.) When did I begin to detest this demand on me to enter these ink blots within my writing? I do remember that it seemes English teachers didn't seem to like to teach grammar. I know in Mrs. Fulmer's class we would spend like two agonizing days learning where to put these street signs of writing and everyone would sweat it out anticipating their name being called to go to the board and look like an idiot. Then with a sigh of relief from the class and the teacher we would reenter the wonderful world of literature. In all punctuation commas have been the most baffling. My husband the journalist has tried to help me with it and I just smile and nod like I'm getting it but I'm not.(Don't tell..) I mean am I the only one who just thought you enter a comma when a breath is needed?
Oh and how come Webster gets to make up new words and decide what is a word. Why can't I? Today is a new day and I will begin with a new word that I will make up. I know I risk rejection from those who have bought into the lie of the Webster dictatorshop.
Today's word is commaphobic: a rational fear and aversion to a symbol that has traumatized one's life.

Thursday, January 12, 2006

I was telling my husband, this morning, about how so often we worry about things and go everywhere to find comfort, except to our Father...and then...in the quiet of the morning, when we fall into His arms, we are reminded that He is comfort and He is peace. Its like there is this feast set before us and we are standing a few feet from the table screaming.."I'm Hungry!" and all the while my Father says,... Come and sup with me, I have prepared a feast for you...

Wednesday, January 11, 2006

Could it be that He loves me so much that He would perform such a miracle in my life?
I am amazed and in wonder of this God of ours.