Have you ever bumped into a girlfriend you haven’t seen in a long time and the first thing out of her mouth is, “YOU Look GREAT!”  Do you think to yourself…“Liar!”? 

Inside, you’re saying, “I’m overweight, my hair’s a mess, my tan has faded, I’ve got bags under my eyes, I bite my nails, I’m undisciplined, insecure, untalented, unworthy, and ugly.”  Then you hear these words spill out loud, “Thank you! You look Great too!!”? 

Why do we do that?  What in our spirit compels us to dig up all the junk we possibly can about ourselves and then accept it as gospel?  Why do we default to the negative voices in our head rather than cling to the truth of what God says about us?

In 1990 Julia Roberts starred in a movie called Pretty Woman.  You probably even saw this movie.  Roberts portrayed a beauty who made her way in the world by cashing in on her looks.  She lived as though she believed her only worth was in selling her body to the highest bidder.  Oddly though, an ache inside her told her there had to be something better out there.  I remember thinking how strange it was that her character would give herself from the neck down to just about anyone with cash in hand yet she had a hard & fast rule that she would not KISS any of her customers.  She so wanted to believe there was MORE for her than what she was getting paid for, and she held on to a tiny bastion of hope, allowing no one access to the sacred sanctuary of her lips.

What is it in my spirit that has caused me at times to live like this Pretty Woman?  No, I’m not a prostitute.  At least not in the literal sense defined by the law.  But you can bet there have been times in my life where I’ve compartmentalized my value and marketed myself for less than God says I’m worth.   I behaved as if I scarcely deserved 50 cents worth of Christ’s Love but not the full price of His Sacrifice.  Like the Pretty Woman I held certain small things sacred but would rummage through refuse in most other areas of life.  I didn’t value myself the way my Jesus does.

I see this so often in single women and it breaks my heart.  We might start out feeling like we are beautiful but somewhere along the road we lose touch with our true beauty.  Once like a stunning evening gown in Nordstrom, we hung in there for a while.  But the clock ticked off too many days, weeks, months and we were relegated to the sale rack.  Sadly, we did it to ourselves by taking a virtual red marker to our soul’s price tag. 

First, it was just a little…10% off.  We’re still feeling like we are worth a lot but we’re hoping this small mark down gets us noticed.   When it doesn’t, we pick up the pen again…20% off.  Surely now someone will snatch us up…for a date, a promotion, a relationship, a party invitation, a leadership role.  We’re looking for validation from someone, anyone.  And when we still don’t get what we think we need, we tell ourselves it’s because we don’t deserve good things.  Again we pick up the pen… 50% off.  The danger?  We keep discounting our worth until we end up in some bargain basement sale for 90% off.  Or donating ourselves to some guy named Good Will.  Trouble is, Good Will often has Bad Intentions.  What Happened?

In this presentation, we’re going to take a look at things single women use to define ourselves…the tools & traps this world offers us to trade not just our confidence but our true value for.  You may recognize several of these “tools” as ones you have applied to yourself.  You may even have others I don’t mention.  Our goal is to have some fun, maybe even laugh at ourselves, and to also thoughtfully consider who we think we are and who we REALLY are from the perspective of the Grand Designer of the ultimate Pretty Woman.  

Yesterday while waiting in my favorite line at Wal-Mart…the “20 items or less” {fewer} line, I counted 5 shoppers in front of me and 4 more behind me.  At the front of what should have been an express line, the cashier stood motionless waiting helplessly on a shopper who sent her son back to the far reaches of the store to retrieve one forgotten item.  As people became increasingly disgruntled by what most considered a selfish delay, I decided to break into song.

“JOY to the World, the Lord has come…everybody join in…”  The response surprised me.  Shoppers waiting with me in line initially turned to see who the crazy woman was.  In a flash of comic relief…or I prefer to think of it as Christmas Cheer…they decided to sing along.  In mere moments, tension and frustration dissolved into festive self-amusement as several off-pitch enthusiasts joined in singing, “Let every heart prepare Him room and heaven and Wal-Mart sing, and heaven and Wal-mart sing, and heaven & heaven and Wal-Mart sing…”  Applause and laughter followed.

When finally my turn came to check out, the grateful cashier enthusiastically greeted me.  “Happy Holidays…and Merry Christmas,” she said smiling, as if somehow she knew I am in the 70%…and the 78%.

JOY to the World, the LORD has come!

I am a single mom and My Chair of Thanksgiving is portable.

It’s a white wooden chair at my kitchen table with my family.

It’s a swivel chair at my desk.

It’s a patio chaise on my back deck overlooking our Colorado skyline.

It’s a swing in a nearby park, a boulder on a hiking trail, a bicycle seat, a bench on a firing range–anywhere I’m fortunate enough to hang out with my kiddos.

It’s the front seat of my automobile, sometimes on the passenger side while my teen drives and I thank God for nerves of steel.

It’s a stadium chair at my son’s sports events.

It’s a cold, stiff chair in a doctor’s office.

It’s a sofa in a counselor’s office.

It’s a beach towel on a sandy Pacific shore.

It’s a window seat 33,000 feet above & between majestic Colorado & Alaska mountains.

And anyone who’s ever been a single mom desperate for a few minutes of solitude will understand when I say sometimes my Chair of Thanksgiving is a toilet seat!

My Chair of Thanksgiving is portable because my Bible tells me that I am to never cease giving thanks…

“Rejoice evermore.  Pray without ceasing.  In everything give thanks: for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you.” I Thessalonians 5:17-18

As a single mom, I often struggle with ingratitude.  Some days I don’t feel like giving thanks.  It’s easier to feel sorry for myself, having to parent solo for the better part of 14 years, than it is to say “Thank You, Jesus”.   But when I begin to consider Who it is I am thanking, my gratitude takes on a whole other dimension even as a single mom.

As a woman who parented 18 children through birth, fostering and adoption, I’ve learned that I can be thankful because:

When I feel alone Jesus is “Immanuel, God with Us”.  His presence never leaves me, no matter how lonely my heart feels Jesus is always here with me.  He sees every tear and He holds my heart.

When my world is full of chaos, juggling schedules and homework and carpools and sport practices and doctor’s appointments, He is my “Jehovah Shalom, the Lord is peace.”

When I am exhausted and desperate for rest from all those mothering responsibilities, God is “Maon & Machseh, My dwelling place & refuge.”

When I struggle to make financial ends meet, God is  “Jehovah Jireh, the Lord who provides.”  My children may not always have what they want, but He faithfully gives us all we need.

When my heart breaks from hurtful things my kids say about me & to me, God is my “Magen, my shield,” to protect me from the arrows of young, uncensored mouths.

When I am overwhelmed in the spiritual battle for the hearts of my children, God is “Yahweh Nissi, the Lord my Banner “ who goes before me in battle and protects us.  Confident of His protection, I can fight any battle in His power & prevail in His strength.

When my kids try to push me around and I just don’t feel that strong, He is “Metsuda & Migdal-Oz, my fortress and my strong tower.”

When I am overwhelmed with guilt at all my failures, mistakes and motherly imperfections, He is “Jehovah Rophe, the God who heals.”, healing my mind and my heart, allowing me to forgive myself.

When I am confused about right decisions to make for my children, He is ”Rabbi, teacher” who shows me the path to follow.

When I am discouraged and feel I can’t keep going, He is “Miqweh Yisrael, the Hope of Israel, the God of Hope”.  Hope that steadies me in fear & trials, not because everything in life is picture perfect but because the God of Hope can be trusted in every situation.

Finally, When I am tired of being single and I long for a husband, Jesus is “Nymphios, my Bridegroom”.  I am married to my Lord.  And I can give thanks that my husband not only loves me deeply & unconditionally, He doesn’t leave the toilet seat up.

In this holiday season, I encourage you to embrace your Chair of Thanksgiving, wherever it may be.

Christ had been crucified like a common criminal.  He died and with Him died the courage of His followers.  His body buried in a cave.  Similarly, 10 of the remaining 11 disciples caved themselves behind locked doors.  They buried themselves, hiding in fear of what Jewish leaders would do  to them next.  Terror was palpable.

For three years Jesus walked with them, led them, taught them, inspired them.  His Presence had been their courage, their protection, their peace.  Now all of that was gone, vaporized with Christ’s last breath at Calvary.  Despite Mary’s proclamation earlier that day, “I have seen the Lord!”, there was no celebration among these men.  Only shaking in their sandals.  For all Jesus taught them and revealed to them… parables, sermons, signs, wonders, miracles, fulfillment of Old Testament Scriptures…it came down to this.  A backroom gathering of fearful, forgetful followers.

John 20:19 says, “Jesus came and stood among them…” I wonder, in their desperation for solutions, did they notice Him at first? Or were they too busy fretting over their circumstances? Were they reliving in heated conversation Christ’s arrest leading to his death?  Did they argue over who was to blame?  “John, you should have stayed awake with Him in the garden.”  “Peter, you ought not have lost your temper with the soldier.”

How long did Jesus stand in their midst before He cleared His throat and spoke?  “Peace be with you.”  Was it a shout? A whisper?   Perhaps a simple observation that peace found its way into the room the moment His Presence entered.

Peace.  The first thing Jesus spoke to His disciples was the very thing they needed most.  Fear that gripped them melted away as they beheld Christ’s hands and side.  The frightened group witnessed the Presence of Jesus and the Bible says, “…they were filled with JOY.”

How many instances in my life have I behaved like the disciples in hiding? Locked up with my emotions and fears.   Fretting over my personal
circumstances.  Playing my situation over and over in my head.   Feeling apprehensive and uncertain about my future. Wondering, “Where is God now?”

As if He knew the message bore repeating to distracted hearts like Peter’s, and
John’s…and mine…Jesus said a second time, “Peace be with you.”

Today as waves of my circumstances crash against shorelines of my existence I hear His voice.  “Peace.”  My deepest need is met in the presence of my resurrected Lord as He stands between me and the unknown.   It is this Peace of His Presence which leads me to JOY.

For My Soldier Daddy
by Matthew & Zechariah Allor

 
 My Daddy couldn’t be here
 cause he’s too far away.
I know he would have liked to come,
 to share this special day.
 
His country said they needed him
 and he prepared to go—
“When freedom’s on the line, ” he said,
 “you don’t tell freedom No.”
 
He lives out in the desert
 and sleeps out in the sand;
His helmet is his pillow,
 his rifle’s in his hand.
 
Some nights he doesn’t sleep at all
 he lays there in the dark,
 listening to the bombs explode
 watching gunfire sparks.
 
He walks the streets of Baghdad
 not knowing what he’ll find
He knows that it is dangerous
 but says he doesn’t mind.
 
He fights with those who need his help
 to try to take a stand
 against the cruel terrorists
 and bullies in their land.
 
 Some people called my Dad a pawn
 in President Bush’s game
They scream that war is hateful—
Well, they should be ashamed.
 
Those people with their protest signs
 I don’t think understand
Daddy went of his free will.
 He’s just that kind of man.
 
He fights to give us liberties
 and not just me & you—
He fights for those he’s never met
 cause that’s what soldiers do.
 
I’m proud of my Daddy
 and all that he’s gone through.
I wish that he could be here
 But he’s got a job to do.
 
So on this Father’s Day
 I hope you’ll say a prayer
 for men like my Daddy
 who fight because they care.
 
I hope that you’ll remember
 his honor & bravery
 are gifts that he is sharing
 so others might live free.

I don’t personally know a single individual who believed the hype about the end of the world though I enjoyed some friendly banter with Christian friends as we teased one another about being left behind… “Will you take care of my dog when I’m gone?”… “Will you sing at my memorial service?”… “Honey, you can finally have the remote control all you want after Saturday night.”  Another friend texted me that he was at the Pearly Gates saving me a place in line cos he knows I’m 3 minutes late for everything.  Nice. 

It doesn’t come as any surprise to me that “the Rapture” didn’t happen yesterday.  Any first year convert to Christianity can quote Scripture from Mark 13:32:

“But about that day or hour no one knows, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father.”

I doubt very seriously God is going to reveal to an 89 year old Californian the “day or hour” before He tells Jesus.  Any legitimate follower of Christ would have a difficult time defending such a nonsensical prediction. The Rapture didn’t happen.  End of story.  You’d think we’d all just go back to life as normal today.

Yet this morning we awoke to even more hype. Indignant Christian leaders took to public microphones demanding an apology from Family Radio founder, Harold Camping for his “gross abuse of his followers trust”…not to mention their funds in the millions.  Concerned that one man’s wayward teaching somehow besmirched all of Christianity, they decried his errant eschatological prediction and insisted he repent immediately.

 Non-Christians flood cyber space with tweets and comments posted to on-line articles, gifting us predictable vitriol about how foolish & ignorant ALL Christians are.  Mocking abounds from self-proclaimed atheists in a “see, I told you so” smugness that there is no God. They revel in ridicule and extol their superior enlightenment taunting no one in particular and any believer in general, as if Deity failing to show up yesterday lends credence to their non-belief.   

But did God really fail to show up yesterday?  I don’t think so.  The Divine Creator showed up on May 21, 2011 just as He does every day. 

God showed up in the Colorado morning sky as infant sunlight stretched and yawned across a pink & blue celestial nursery illuminating snow atop Pikes Peak.  He showed up as stars cavorted and played across the galaxy.  He showed up in a silent hospital room as a family gathered to say their last goodbyes to a dying loved one. He showed up as a young woman gave birth for the first time and gently placed a joyful kiss on her newborns’ forehead. 

God showed up in an emotional outdoor service as a flag draped a soldier’s coffin. He showed up as a small group of devastated wives banded together to support one another & pray for combat veteran spouses ravaged with PTSD.  He showed up in forgiveness offered to someone undeserving of mercy.  He showed up as family and friends witnessed sacred vows spoken between a man & woman pledging their love & lives to one another in holy matrimony.   He showed up in a nursing home when someone took the time to encourage and hug an elderly man who hadn’t spoken in weeks. 

God showed up as committed activists rescued young girls from human trafficing in Mexico and sexual slavery in Asia.  He showed up in songs of praise shared in a secret worship service behind closed doors in Afghanistan.  He showed up as volunteers rocked babies in a Russian orphanage.  He showed up as tent-makers shared the Gospel of Christ with a Muslim in Turkey.

God showed up in gifts of outreach at food kitchens and homeless shelters. He showed up in a million acts of compassion, in simple, unselfish kindnesses demonstrated toward the poor and in countless words of encouragement for the brokenhearted. 

On May 21, 2011 God Showed Up.  The question is, “Did we see Him?” Or were we too busy watching the sky for something less miraculous?

I’m so grateful for friends checking in with me.  Otherwise my human interaction is limited these days to nurses, strangers in a hospital cafeteria and a frequently sleepy mom…we’re blaming it on Compazine for her nausea. 

My reply text, “4 hrs sleep. Got thrown up on. Cried to see mom so sick. Ate junk 4 lunch for comfort. And just got beat at cards cos mom was bored. Good day.”  I no longer ask or desire for my days to flow flawlessly.  I’m choosing to embrace reality and to thank God for every moment, even if I’m saying, “Thank you, God” through tears.

I used to puzzle over Ecclesiastes 7:3, “Grief is better than laughter…” Today I’m rethinking that.  I’ve grieved much these past few months, mostly related to mom’s multiple myeloma and all she has suffered in this process for hope of healing.  There have been days when I have forced a laugh, feigned a smile trying to put up a good front.  But the tears…those have all been real.  Laughter can be faked but grieving cannot.  Grieving is honest.  In that respect, Scripture holds true. Grief IS better than laughter.

“Do not ask why the old days were better than these, for that is a foolish question.”  Ecc. 7:10

We’re often tempted to look back over the “old days” and tell ourselves those were better days.  Past pain diminishes. Foggy recall occludes accurate details.  Selective memory clings to positive while it ferrets out, then dismisses negative…well, at least in those who favor optimism.  Whether a fact, tainted sentiment or complete denial, ascribing “good” to the past can easily be accomplished if we so choose.  But today, when my heart is aching over mom’s suffering, when I smell like vomit, I’m coming down from a self-inflicted sugar high,  I’m sleep deprived and I can’t seem to stop my eyes from leaking, “Thank you God” has a much different feel to it.  I’m steeped in the misery of this day and still I’m choosing to say THIS is a good day.  Why?  Because I was blessed to spend time with someone I love.  Because any “bad day” side-by-side with a loved one is better than the most beautiful day without love. And because God sees my day, sees how it pales in comparison to what mom is dealing with and He graces me with divine perspective…compared to what His Son went through at Calvary, this is a very good day.

“Consider God’s handiwork: who can straighten what he has made crooked? When things go well, be glad.  When things go ill, consider this: God has set the one alongside the other in such a way that no one can find out what is to happen next…man is greatly troubled by ignorance of the future.  Who can tell him what it will bring? It is not in man’s power to restrain the wind and no one has power over the day of death.  In war, no one can lay aside his arms, no wealth can save its possessors.”  Ecc 7:13-14; 8:6-8

Control is an illusion.  I can’t predict what will happen and I am powerless to control outcomes.  The only thing I can fully control is how my heart will respond to the here and now.  By God’s mercy, as long as I have breath in my body, I get to decide one day at a time to say “Thank You, God” even when grief overshadows laughter.

Somewhere along this cancer journey with mom I lost my will to look people in the eye.  I became aware of it yesterday afternoon walking down a hospital corridor, my head hanging.  My eyes have frequently filled with tears these past few days especially.   I can’t stand pity but in my tearful state, pity often stares back at me in the expressions of nurses, other caregivers, even strangers in ICU & the hospital cafeteria.  I feared if I saw concern in the eyes of others I would “lose it”, cry all over them.   A couple of times I almost did.  So I put my head down and everywhere I walked I stared at my feet. 

Last night I received an email from another precious friend, this one clear across the world.  She was up in the middle of her night praying for mom and me and she wrote, “may you both be used as an encouragement and witness of God’s greatness, peace and mercy for all the doctors, nurses, families, patients you encounter.  He is GOOD.  He loves you both.” 

There was a strong message in her words, “be an encouragement…”

Living in the midst of anguish does not extinguish the Light of Christ in us.   There is much darkness and despair in an ICU.  If God sees fit to put Momma here, it is for His Glory.  Who am I to hang my head and perpetuate the despair?  My friend is right, God is GOOD.  All the time.  That is not a simple saying.  It is Truth.   

At the end of her shift this evening, Momma’s nurse who has been an ICU RN for 12 years came in to our room to say “good night”.  She leaned into my sweet mother and spoke sincerely, “It has been an honor and privilege to care for you.”  Despite all her suffering, my mother had been a strong witness of God’s greatness, peace and mercy for this nurse. 

I pray that I can do as much as I trust the One Who is the Lifter of my head.

 “But you, O LORD, are a shield about me, my glory, and the lifter of my head.”  Psalm 3:3 ESV

Glancing up at a monitor, I read beautiful numbers 100/54 and 98, up from last night when they were 67/33 and 52.  Who knew readings for blood pressure and heart rate could make time seem to stand still?  In what I consider the most painful night I’ve ever endured, helpless to change abhorrent side effects of chemo treatments for multiple myeloma wreaking havoc on my dear mother, I cried out to God and reached out to friends through quick texts, pleading for prayer.  At all kinds of unholy hours, you relinquished sleep to intercede for us and replies poured in…

 “the Lord your God is with YOU, Di…He is with your mother as well…He is mighty to save”

“His love is unshakable, though the mountains be moved to the sea, His love cannot fail…”

“PRAYING!!!”

“Even as much as I love you, God loves you infinitely more. Trust Him.”

“Nothing is out of His control. Use the wisdom and discernment He gives you minute by minute and trust Him for the rest.”

“Thou will keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on Thee.”

“You have the mind of Christ. His power is made perfect in weakness. Clothe yourself in Him now and stay there.  There are angels ministering to you and your mom.”

“Do not fear for I am with you. Do not anxiously look about for I am your God. I will strengthen you, surely I will help you, surely I will uphold you by My Righteous Right Hand.”

If “faith comes by hearing and hearing by the Word of God”, then surely God was speaking through His precious saints last night & today to strengthen my faith.   His Word and your prayers {and someone willing to take my frantic call at 3:40 a.m.} carried me through 40 hours with only 90 minutes of sleep.  We feel your love, support & prayers.  We are profoundly grateful.

Since the WBC measures white cells that fight infection in a body, a number lower than normal–4.0 to 10.0 in a healthy person–indicates compromised immunity.   A typical cancer patient who undergoes the high dose chemo my mother received for 2 days prior to her stem cell transplant last Friday would be much lower.  Her count had been dropping all week and was 2.2 the day of her transplant.   The transplant team told my family it would continue downward, hit bottom after 2-3 days and she would be “stuck there” for at least 10-14 days before she would begin to recover.  Thoroughly briefed on the horrible side effects that would plague mom during that time, we braced ourselves for the worst.
 
God had other plans.  The day after mom’s transplant we expected to see her white blood count around 1.0.  Instead it soared to 20.5!  Our oncology nurses said they had never seen anything like it.  They even called the lab to double-check and confirm the results.  One oncologist called it, ”very bizarre”.  Another simply said, “Weird.”  My family marveled as we prayed for mom’s WBC to remain high, hoping it would indicate God had chosen to heal mother in some miraculous way.  The transplant team & doctor on call discouraged us from getting too excited, speculating that this was “a strange fluke” and the count would surely drop the next day.
 
Since then mom’s WBC has dropped everyday…from 20.5 to 7.7, 3.2, all the way to 0 today.  She has, indeed “hit bottom”.  What a difference a few days has made…watching her now in the thick of side-effects and pain, helpless to offer her any relief is the most agonizing thing I’ve ever experienced.  With every tear she cries, I feel my heart being ripped out.  Yet, I believe when mom’s WBC mysteriously spiked to more than twice that of a normal healthy person, God was shouting, “I AM ABLE”. 

“Able to do immeasurably more that all we could ask or imagine according to His Power at work in us.” {Ephesians 3:20 NIV} 

He did.  And we almost missed it.  We wanted Saturday’s high number to mean mom was healed.  What we almost missed is God showed up in a mighty, yes miraculous way.  It wasn’t the miracle we hoped for, the miracle of complete healing.  But it was definitely a miracle.  The Living God graced us with a personal manifestation of His presence, giving us a glimpse of His Power, encouraging our hearts in  preparation for upcoming devastation and suffering.  For one solitary day God did something extraordinary and exceptional in the Body of His precious saints.
 
In this journey of cancer we have continually prayed we would not miss God.  Healing would be wonderful though we have yet to see if that is God’s plan for mother in the flesh.  What we DO see is that He is here…“The LORD our God is with you, he is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing.”  {Zephaniah 3:17} 

He cares that my sweet mother is suffering. He is holding her when she cries in pain.  Too, He is holding my fragmented heart.  As I consider the events of the past 4 days, I’m coming to realize anew that whether we are in the highs of a mountaintop experience, unexplainable in human terms or at the lowest valley of human suffering and despair, GOD is still God.  He is in complete control. And  His Grace is sufficient…

“He said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.”  {II Corinthians 12:9 NIV}

God’s compassion cannot fail and His mercies are new every morning.

“Because of the LORD’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness {Lamentations 3:22-23 NIV}

 On the ride from the Cancer Clinic to our little apartment this morning, my mother began singing, “Great is thy faithfulness, Oh God my Father.  There is no shadow of turning with Thee.  ALL I have needed Thy hand hath provided. Great is Thy Faithfulness, Lord unto me…”