Milk. Does a Body good.

A few weeks ago, my husband had a "small accident."  I got a phonecall at about 2:00.  It was Husband asking the signs of a broken arm.  This is the man who refused to go to the hospital two years ago, even though he had a broken rib and a collapsed lung.  I knew if he was calling, it must be bad.  So I gave him the symptoms of a fracture.  He thought about it for a few seconds and then said, "I guess we'd better go to the Emergency Room."

I found a last-minute babysitter, and Husband and I went to the hospital.  His arm looked gross.  He explained that a neighbor's tractor had gotten stuck, and he went to pull it out with a second tractor.  The tow chain snapped, and projected toward Husband's face.  He threw his arm up to protect his face, and the chain hit his forearm.  By the time I saw his arm, it was bloody and swollen to about twice the size of his other arm.  I (along with every nurse and PA who looked at his arm) was 100% positive that it was broken.  It was swollen, he couldn't rotate his wrist, and he had no feeling in his hand.  But we had to wait for a radiologist's report of the X-ray just to be sure.  

While we waited for the X-ray results, Husband kept saying, "It's not broken...I have strong bones because I drink milk!"  He told me, and the nurses, and the housekeeper, and the PA.  And every time he said it, I rolled my eyes and said, "Look at your arm.  It's broken."  But Husband refused to believe it.  Apparently three glasses of raw milk a day counteract the effects of a half-inch chain slamming into your bare arm at 100 miles per hour.  Completely logical.  

After about 20 minutes of listening to Husband rant about how much milk he drinks, the PA came back with the radiology report.  Husband's arm was not broken.  Unbelievable.  To look at his arm, you'd have though he just hit it about twenty times with the claw-end of a hammer.  The muscle was severely damaged, and there was a high risk for infection.  But if he listened to the Doc's orders, he'd be fine within a few weeks.

Fast forward to four days later, and I'm sitting in church, listening to the pastor's sermon.  He was making mention of the Body of Christ, and how sometimes the Body can be in disunity, fractured.  My mind went back to the ER, listening to Husband talk about the benefit of drinking milk.  And then I thought of the scripture in I Peter that talks of the benefits of milk: "... long for the pure milk of the word, so that by it you may grow..."

The Book of Romans tells us that we, the Church, are a single Body.  And just like the human body, there are many different parts.  The different pieces look and function differently, but they are necessary for a perfectly functioning Body.  So it is with the Body of Christ.  But so often I have seen fracturing in the Body.  We become entitled and proud, believing that we are the most important part of the Body, and that other parts are less important, or even worse, dispensable. Very quickly, we begin to cut off parts of the Body...a big toe or a nose or a knee cap.  And we, by our own pride, fracture the Body of Christ.  Or sometimes, the Body experiences a head-on-collision.  There's a disagreement that we can't settle, or a problem that we can't solve.   Instead of turning to the Word for an answer, we allow the situation to get the best of us, to fracture our Body.

The very simple solution:  Drink Milk.  Not the white stuff that comes from cows.  Instead, drink of the milk of His Word.  When we ingest that Milk, it becomes obvious that all the "lesser" or "different" Body parts are necessary.  And the parts that seem so extraordinarily different than us create a sense of balance and moderation.  Soon, the Body will become strong, and will be able to withstand when we face those proverbial head-on-collisions.  So remember to drink Milk, because it does a Body good.

When will I ever learn?

Lately, I've been thinking about women of the Bible.  During my latest study, I took a look at Eve's life.  More accurately, I looked at how Eve screwed up.  And as I've pondered Eve's missteps, I'm mad and sad and ashamed at the whole scenario.  Why am I mad and sad and ashamed?  One reason.  I'm having trouble learning from Eve's mistakes.

We all know the story and it's components:  God, Adam and Eve, the Garden, the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil (specifically one piece of fruit), and the Serpent.  God gives instruction.  Serpent tempts Eve to disobey instruction.  Eve chooses to listen to the serpent and disobey God.  Eve persuades Adam to disobey God's instruction.  God banished the Two from the Garden of Eden, and humanity is cursed because of their decision.

I've probably read this story ten times in the past two weeks.  And each time I read it I think, "Come on, Eve!  How hard is it to follow one simple instruction?!?"  I mean, really.  It's not like God gave the Couple a hundred rules to follow.  He didn't even give them ten rules to follow (The Ten Commandments come a little later).  He gave them one rule.  One.  Don't eat of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil.  That's it.  He even gave them an awfully good reason: If they ate of the Tree, they'd die.  Plain and simple, right?  Wrong.

Women never make things that simple.  We over-complicate things.  We create drama.  We analyze and nitpick.  We allow our emotions to overrule our brains.   Eve is a prime example of this.  She ignores God's plain instruction, listening to the worst advise EVER. Because this horrible advise appeals to her flesh, she takes it.  Then she panics when she realizes she majorly messed up.  I'm sure she batted her eyelashes, shed a few tears, and presented a (seemingly) logical reason to persuade Adam to participate in sin with her.  Whatever she did, it worked.  Adam listened to Eve and ate of the fruit, too.

When God finally reprimands Adam, it's because he "listened to the words of his wife (and ate of the Tree)."  Ouch.  Direct blow from the Master.  Because of Eve's choice to disobey, we as a human race were banished from the presence of God Himself.

I, as a woman, should learn something from this.  God so often gives me very simple instructions.  But I, like Eve, complicate things, and analyze them, and allow emotion to get in the way of God's perfect justice.  I forget that Eve, even though she is the Mother of all humanity, messed up.  She was created to help Adam.  Instead, she sabotaged their perfect life on a perfect Earth.  I know that sin would have entered the picture sometime.  Someone would have eventually fallen into temptation.  But this is the first temptation ever mentioned, and Eve falls into the Serpent's scheme.  The first time she was enticed, she gave in.  

I want to be stronger than that.  I don't want to make a choice that harms me, and my husband, and every generation after me.  I don't want to let my emotions get in the way of God's perfect plan for me.  I want to be so filled with the Holy Spirit that I'm not hungry for a measly piece of fruit, no matter how beautiful and delicious it seems.  

Maybe, just for good measure, I'll read the story one more time.  Then, just maybe, I'll learn.

Happy Mother's Day

Here I sit at my daughter’s bedside as she heals from open heart surgery.  Tomorrow is Mother’s Day...my first official Mother’s Day.   I will be here, in the hospital, watching Melody as her heart heals.  And I am infinitely proud to be here with my daughter on this Mother’s Day.  I don’t need flowers, or a card, or a piece of jewelry.  I can’t think of a more appropriate activity to be participating in on this holiday....caring for the one who has made me a mom.

If you’ve read any of my blogs, you’ve discovered that I can find an analogy, a metaphor, in just about any life event.  This event has been no different.  Right now, I’m literally caring for my daughter’s heart.  Watching the nurses, learning about the drugs they’re giving my girl. Sometimes, treatment is uncomfortable, even painful for her.  But in the end, it is for her good.  I am always conscious of her condition, looking for signs of infection.  

And I’m realizing that as a parent, I should figuratively care for my daughter’s heart as well.  The first words of the Hebrew Bible read: “Hear, O Israel! The LORD is our God, the LORD is one! You shall love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might. These words, which I am commanding you today, shall be on your heart. You shall teach them diligently to your sons and shall talk of them when you sit in your house and when you walk by the way and when you lie down and when you rise up.  That is serious stuff.  I know I must make an effort to intentionally live a life of purpose, especially in front of my child.  Her heart should be of paramount importance to me.  I must be consciously aware, looking for signs of proverbial infection.    When she becomes a toddler, a child, an adolescent, I know there will be times when I must discipline her, and that it will be uncomfortable and painful for the both of us.  But I, as her mother, must guard her heart, and ask that my Father opens the eyes of her little heart, and that she would love Him with every fiber of her being.

A very Happy Mother’s Day to each of you who have given yourself to this purpose:  “Love the Lord your God with all your hear and with all your soul and with all your might...Teach (His commands) diligently to your sons (and daughters).”

Be still, then you'll know.

Most of the time when I work, I wear earphones.  You know, the little squishy ones that go inside your ear.  Since I often run loud power equipment, the earbuds serve a dual purpose:  block out sound AND deliver music (or whatever else is loaded on my iPod).  I don’t hear the roar of the mower, or buzz of the chainsaw...all of my equipment seems to be silenced when my earphones are in.  And then I get to listen to anything I choose.  My style of music, at my volume...all day long. 

Last week, I forgot to recharge my iPod, and the battery went dead, so I was without anything to block out the noise.  Thankfully, I was only doing “quiet” yard work that day, so having music wasn’t an absolute necessity.  I began to weed some planting beds on an area of campus that is surrounded by woods.  If felt a little strange without my music.  More accurately, it sounded strange without my manufactured noise.  Still. Quiet.  

I was going about my business, weeding like a pro, when I heard a noise.  It was loud, coming from the woods.  I startled, and looked to see what could be causing such a commotion.  If I were to guess, it were a deer, or maybe a whole herd of deer, running across the leaf-covered forest floor.  I immediately went from my hands and knees to only my knees.  I looked, but saw nothing.  The noise got louder.  I stood up.  If the volume of noise was any indication of the level of aggression of the animal producing the noise, I may need to run away.  My eyes strained, my vision blurred by the morning sun piercing through the newly budding trees.  I felt a slight raise in my adrenaline level.  I was scared that I was about to be charged by the biggest buck in the Northeast.  I took a step toward the direction from which the noise was coming.  There was a brief moment of quiet, and then again, a burst of activity.

And then, I saw it.  It was not a deer, or a herd of deer, or a rhinoceros, or a 2-ton elephant.  No, it was none of those things.  It was, instead, a squirrel.  A squirrel.  Not even a big fat squirrel.  He was a scrawny squirrel with only a partial tail.  He was pathetic looking.  But for a moment, because of the enormous noise he was creating, I thought he would’ve been able to take me in a bar fight.  

I don’t know how many times I’ve heard the verse, “Be still, and know that I am God.”  I always took most notice of the second command in this verse: Know that I am God.  I thought that God was proud, and wanted me to notice his awesomeness.  For the record, we should take notice of his awesomeness.  He is God, after all.  But the scrawny squirrel taught me a lesson about the first command of the verse: Be still.  

In life, we rarely slow down.  We put in our proverbial headphones and block out God’s voice.  We listen to the media, to our peers, even to our pastors and other spiritual authorities.  Because sometimes these seem more acceptable, less controversial than what we may hear from God.  But we, I, need to remember to take out the headphones every now and then.  Because when we remove the noise of the world, when we are still, then we can hear God’s voice.  And even a tiny whisper can seem like a deafening roar.  He’s the same God who caused Adam to live with just a breath, created woman from a single bone, spoke the Earth into existence with a single word.  So with even a whisper, he can communicate great things to us.  All we have to do is take out our headphones and be still.

Like Always

Last week, on Leap Day to be exact, I awoke at 6 am like I always do.  I put on my house shoes, and went to the kitchen to warm a bottle for Melody like I always do.  I changed her diaper and said “Good Morning, would you like some breakfast?” like I always do.  Then, like I always do, I turned on the computer so that I could stay connected with my “Far Away Friends.”  But that morning, for my hometown of Harrisburg, Illinois, life was not like it always was.  

Facebook updates generally consist of a quote of the day, a little sarcasm, what’s for dinner, or what stupid thing someone said or did.  Not this day.  This day was not like always.  Instead of the quotes and sarcasm, I read of my Far Away Friends in the midst of a tragedy, a disaster.  A tornado bringing 180 mph winds swept through Harrisburg at about 5:00 am, when most residents were still asleep in their beds.  After looking at the photos a hundred times, I still can’t help but cry and mourn for the loss so many have suffered.  Six people lost their lives, and many more were injured or lost everything they own within a matter of seconds.  And now their lives are not like they always were.

I went to work the next day and was approached by a co-worker.  I could tell by the expression on her face that she was sad, or mad, or perhaps both.  She explained that she had just discovered that her husband has been addicted to prescription pain killers after having back surgery over a year ago.  He’s now trying to quit “cold turkey,” and is going through severe withdrawal.  In this moment, their marriage isn’t like it always was.

Then last night I received a phone call from one of my dearest and oldest friends.  She explained that she had just undergone an emergency surgery because she’d experienced an ectopic pregnancy.  She knew that in such circumstances, the baby could not be saved.  What she didn’t expect was that complications would arise, she would lose one fallopian tube, and that doctors can’t yet tell her if the other tube is functional.  Her life is not the same as it always has been.

I lay awake last night thinking of the tragedy and strife so many experience.  I don’t understand why people experience such horrific things.  It doesn’t seem fair to me.  Then, I roll over in bed and look at my daughter, sleeping five feet away from me.  According to the doctors, she’s not supposed to be here, alive, sleeping in her swing.  And I sometimes feel guilty that I’m here, living life like I always do, in my warm house, with a wonderful husband, with my baby that was miraculously healed of so many defects.  Sometimes the fact that my life is so good seems just as unfair as those who have experienced all the bad things.  And I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve such favor.

But here’s what I do know.  There’s One Thing that will be the same, like always.  That One Thing’s name is Jesus.  He’s the same as always; yesterday, today, and forever.  If we invite Him to do so, he will always be with us, wherever we go, whatever we walk through.  Always.  I don’t understand it, but I know it’s true.  And I resigned myself long ago that this is just how most things are going to work in my Christian faith: I won’t understand, but I have to believe.  That holds true today.  Even though I don’t understand the reason behind all the tragedy that we experience, I do understand that God is kind, and good, and fair.  I must trust Him to be like He always is, to do what He always does.  Because He has everything under control, just like always.

Remain Calm and Carry On.

Since I only have five followers, I'm assuming all of you know that I now have a beautiful, miraculous, 10-week-old baby girl named Melody.  It's amazing what such a small human can teach you about life.  More accurately, it's amazing what God can teach you through a small human.  I must first admit that this particular lesson didn't come to me without the help of a motherly mentor.  I always appreciate it when she thinks outloud...

This little human that I gave birth to is very, very picky.  She likes to be fed a certain way, burped by a specific technique, and sleep in only one position.  And then there's the holding.   As adults, our natural tendency is to grab a baby and either cradle him in the crook of our arm, or lay him against our shoulder, chest-down.  Not the case with Melody.  She'll have none of the traditional holding.  With Melody, you have one of two options.

1)  Place one hand under her neck, and the other under her bottom.  Hold her at arms length in front of you, and begin to bounce and swing her until it feels like your arms are going to fall off.

2)  Place the right side of her body against your abdomen.  Place your left hand on her arm, and then hold her feet with your right hand...DO NOT RUB her feet.  Simply hold them with firm pressure.

Like I said, the girl's picky.  But she (along with God and the motherly mentor) has taught me something while I was holding her.  You see, when I'm bouncing her so hard that it makes me paranoid that social services is going to come barging through my front door at any minute and accuse me of child abuse, she remains calm.  If someone were holding me like that, I'd be a nervous wreck.  But Melody's entire body relaxes, and she just looks at the ceiling fan while I bounce and swing her around the living room.  And then there's the "foot holding"position.  Again, she relaxes.  And the whole time I'm holding her, she's not looking around the room.  No.  In this position, she likes to look at me.

And here's today's lesson:  We, as Christians, are held by our Father.  Sometimes, when He's holding us, it feels like we're bouncing and swinging so chaotically, that He could drop us at any minute.  Relax.  Just like when we're holding a baby, things are fine until they start to squirm.  If Baby relaxes, it makes it so much easier for everyone involved.  As humans, we want everything to be easy, to roll along smoothly, to know what is ahead.  But God is holding us.  He sees our surroundings.  He is completely competent, and He won't drop us.  And sometimes, He holds us closely to His heart and holds our feet in His hand.  Remember to look at his face when He's holding you.  He's got your feet under control.  Trust what He's doing.  Remain calm, and He'll carry you on.