The Showdown

Fear sat on a low, three-legged stool in the corner of a boxing ring,
Oiled muscles glistened in the spotlights.
He thought of his lady friend and the spaghetti dinner that would be waiting.
A hangnail diverted his attention now,
His coach checked in briefly, “Piece of cake, Champ. Piece of cake,”
With a slap on the back.



I sat across the ring like a stunned deer crossing the road at night,
Eyes wide and alert, lean limbs skilled at fleeing.
I watched a mental movie of my past failed bouts.
Humiliating memories, but the soundtrack was pretty decent.
Strong hands grasped my shoulders from behind and a face pulled close to my ear.
“Say my name,” he said.



A crowd in shadows was on their feet, with a rush of cheers and whistles.
The well-groomed announcer bent, weaving between ropes,
Took a breath long enough to let his slot of fame linger.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I welcome you here tonight to witness a spectacular showdown!
In this corner, we have Fear! The Author of Nightmares, the Terror of Terrors!”
Fear sauntered forward, arms overhead, encouraging the crowd.
The rafters rattled with the stomping ruckus of his dedicated followers.



Nodding acknowledgement and raising his hand like a traffic cop, the announcer regained the floor.
“And, over here, please welcome tonight’s opponent….”
“JESUS!”
His name bubbled out of my constricted throat with surprising force.
I watched from my stool perch as my Savior calmly took His place next to the announcer.
Fear fell to his knees, face to the floor, yielded.
Jesus beckoned me to come and stand next to Him, under His arm.



“Folks, we have our WINNER!!!”
The announcer’s voice rang through the arena.
Half the crowd fled, everyone else broke out in celebration, like a kettle of popcorn over hot coals.
Jesus’ face was next to my ear again,
His whisper cut sharply through the din,
“I am your God. I will always help you.”

“So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God.

I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.

All who rage against you will surely be ashamed and disgraced;

those who oppose you will be as nothing and perish.

Though you search for your enemies, you will not find them.

Those who wage war against you will be as nothing at all.

For I am the Lord, your God, who takes hold of your right hand and says to you,

Do not fear; I will help you.”

Isaiah 41:10-14

If I Could Be Something From This Morning

If I could be something from this morning,


I would be Trader Joe’s creamed honey,

Generously smoothing over

The bumpy cellulite shamed thighs

Of a warm, gluten-free biscuit.



If I could be something from this morning,

I would be the crisp, blank pages

In my trendy Austrian journal,

White lines of desert,

Entreating a deluge of God’s revelation.



If I could be something from this morning,

I would be my brothers’ golden retriever,

Taking her Aunt Brooke for a refreshing walk,

Passing a trio of snarling pugs,

She sees potential friends.



If I could be something from this morning,

I would be a rose of Sharon,

A lily of the valleys,

Reflecting the beauty of my Creator,

I would be me.

Last Day of School

Today was the last day of school. My students came for two hours, and then left in a parade of buses with horns blaring, as if to notify the neighborhood: “These kids are yours now!” Since Friday traffic is always dreadful, I decided to go home early and write report cards from there. Not long into my drive, it seemed my plan to miss traffic had failed. There was an accident causing a major backup, even before I reached the freeway. Once on the freeway, I encountered more accidents and more brake lights. Each time I was delayed, I worked to keep my mind rooted in gratefulness.




Thank you for the pretty rain, God.


Thank you that I live in a country where a Christian radio station is legal.


Please bless those in the accident.


Thank you for police officers who provide structure and help in messy situations.



As I neared home, the traffic issues became almost unbelievable. I decided to stop at The Flying Apron for a “happy last day of school” muffin, and nearly got hit as I turned into the neighborhood. Seconds later, a mom and her two kids made a mad dash across the street, requiring me to stop suddenly. In Fremont, cars were backed up the hill, with some trying to weave around others who were waiting to make a turn. It was crazy. I finally turned off the road, and parked on a side street.



I walked several blocks, and nearing the bakery, two police cars blocked part of the road. They were in the middle of arresting someone on the sidewalk just in front of me. I walked out into the street and made my way through the braid of cars. With each section of my journey home, this really disturbing feeling grew inside me.



At least the muffin transaction was swift. I emerged back on the street and decided to forgo wearing my hood. Who cares about getting wet amidst all this chaos? I was so uneasy. I felt my spirit pushing and struggling, like someone trying to put on a sweater that shrunk in the wash. I crossed the street as two cars nearly collided. One blasted its horn. “What the heck is going on today, Lord? Is the world ending?” I began praying and singing snippets of songs about how much I like God. It felt forced, but I continued, thinking, “If evil crap is having a heyday, then I’m going to stand up for God's side.”



Nearing my car, there was a young boy walking in front of me, struggling. He had a guitar case strapped to his back and was lugging an amp about half his height. A camouflage hoodie shielded his face, but as I stopped my singing, I heard little sobs escaping.



“Hey,” I said.

He looked surprised and sucked in a shaky breath, quickly composing himself.

“Do you need help?”

“No. I got it.”

“Can I pray for you?”

“No.”



I felt like an idiot. What did I think I was going to do? Have a prayer meeting with this kid on the sidewalk? Without thinking much about it, I reached out and took the amp from him.



“I’ll walk a few blocks with you, okay?”

“Okay.”

So, we walked in the rain, a long stream of cars creeping beside us. It was his last day of school too. Just finished fourth grade. “Me too,” I said.



All the yucky muck of the hours before suddenly quieted and I was sheltered in this peaceful bubble of fourth grade chatter. He took up his load again as we parted ways. I walked back to my car in awe of God.



I wish I could tell you the lesson in all this. I don’t think I know. I almost ran into another car driving home. But, I know God is with us. And I know He is good. I love how He ushers us into His sweet presence in the most unexpected ways.

My heart is not proud, Lord, my eyes are not haughty,

I do not concern myself with great matters

or things too wonderful for me.

But I have calmed and quieted myself, I am like a weaned child with its mother;

like a weaned child, I am content.

 

Israel, put your hope in the Lord both now and forevermore.

 

Psalm 131

Love is Patient, aka Hold Out For Your Isaac Promise

When I get home from work, I clumsily bump through the doorway. My lunch bag filled with empty Tupperware containers hangs off one arm, a jacket slung over the other, and running shoes, my big purse, and a Nalgene bottle balance somewhere in between. Discarding the load at my feet in a long, single exhale, I head for the kitchen to get inspired for dinner. I am hungry enough that I want to put something in my mouth to devour immediately. As my Dad jokes, “I don’t have a whole minute!” I search for anything I can heat up in the microwave.




Having celiac disease and several food allergies means that most microwavable, instant-type meals are not suited for my needs. It is safer and often more simple to cook the old natural way. When I slow down, I really enjoy the process of cutting vegetables, taking deep whiffs of seasonings (cumin always makes me smile, thanks to Muslim lamb skewers in China), and arranging the final product on a favorite plate. I sit down with a meal that I don’t just consume, but savor with small, thoughtful bites and the occasional runaway “YUM!”



Waiting for a meal is a low-stakes event for a girl with full cupboards. But how willing am I to forgo the microwave approach to things in life that feel far more critical? I trust God. I trust Him despite circumstances that tell me His promises might not pan out. But, does my trust have the longevity to match God’s timeline for promise fulfillment?



Abraham dealt with this. I know nothing of his eating habits, but I know he had big promises from God and a long time to wait.



“Look up at the heavens and count the stars – if indeed you can count them.” Then he said to him, “So shall your offspring be.” -Genesis 15:5



After some time, Abram and Sarai took the microwave approach. Hagar gave birth to Ishmael. Then, God stepped in and reaffirmed His promise and intentions.



“No longer will you be called Abram; your name will be Abraham, for I have made you a father of many nations. I will make you very fruitful; I will make nations out of you, and kings will come from you. I will establish my covenant as an everlasting covenant between me and you and your descendants after you for the generations to come, to be your God and the God of your descendants after you. . . As for Sarai your wife, you are no longer to call her Sarai; her name will be Sarah. I will bless her and will surely give you a son by her. I will bless her so that she will be the mother of nations; kings of peoples will come from her.” –Genesis 17:5-7, 15-16



The incredulous, old couple greeted baby Isaac with laughter. Abraham was one hundred years old.



God has loads of time. God is not worried if He will do what He says or not. When He promises, it’s almost as if the covenant’s reality has already arrived. When God promises something too huge to grasp (your descendants being as numerous as the stars, for instance), does the quick solution call out because patience is gone, or because doubt has begun?

Over the years, I’ve picked up some promises from God, things for which I am waiting. They feel pretty important, but not so vast as the stars. I believe there is more if I am willing to risk asking for it. I feel like my safe, concrete little human mind can’t even come up with questions of a God caliber. So, I’ve been asking Him what to ask.



God, what crazy, dangerous, outlandish question can I ask You today?



It reminds me of the night when I found out my dear friend Karli’s mom had passed away. I hung up the phone and cried hard, sitting in my car in a Target parking lot. I had this brash attitude and I challenged God with the boldest question I could come up with in that moment, “God, would you just get rid of all death forever?”



His gentle answer was, “Yes. I did.” (Revelation 21:4)



God’s scale is HUGE, and doesn’t make sense always. And, as I said, God has loads of time. He could fulfill what He says in an instant, if He chose. The fact that it doesn’t happen on my timeline suggests that there is a purpose to His process; a shaping of my will to His. I believe Abraham became a father long before Ishmael or Isaac came along. Through the waiting, he became a new man; a man with all the character and leadership of a father. And then, a baby was born.



I only recently noticed that bell peppers have a beautiful, sort of scaly pattern on the inside flesh. I am there, in the small steps, paying attention, and welling up with incredible gratefulness. Isaac babies and good dinners; marriage, kids, a friendly dog; an end to world hunger and all the insane list things I’ll ask when God leads me. . . they all seem like the big deal, but they’re not. They’re a wonderful, rich celebration that follows the big deal of showing up for the steps it took to get there.



God is doing the work. He’s asking us to wait with Him and be changed into His likeness along the way.



So, let’s ignore our microwaves tonight and hang on to the Isaac promises in our lives.

I Trust You, Lord

Flower in a pot,
Waitin' to be watered,

Plant in the desert,                                           
Thirsty for rain.

Leaves turnin' brown,
Roots gettin' brittle,
Waitin' to be watered,
Thirsty for rain.

Oh the tree by the stream,
Has plenty of water,
Roots drink deep,
Leaves shine green.

Oh the tree by the stream,
Has plenty of water,
Fruit hangin' heavy,
Even in drought.

"But blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord,

whose confidence is in Him.

They will be like a tree planted by the water

that sends out its roots by the stream.

It does not fear when heat comes;

its leaves are always green.

It has no worries in a year of drought

and never fails to bear fruit."

-Jeremiah 17:7 & 8

Cheese in Heaven (with apologies to Eric Clapton)

I've said goodbye to many foods in the past few months, and my well-being seems to be improving every day.  Every once in awhile, a yearning for tastes and textures of the recent past hit me.  Tonight, it was cheese.

I jogged to the PCC market down the hill to get special ingredients for my vegan, gluten free cookies I'm making for Sunday's church gathering.  I walked in, sweaty from running, drinking cold water from a Dixie cup and stopped dead in my tracks.  For there before me was a giant display (an homage, if you will) of cheese.  Oh golly, I spent the rest of the time in the store thinking about all the different ways to eat cheese.  PCC is one of those places that sells non-dairy "cheeze", but I'm not ready to go down that road yet.  Not yet.

As I left the cascading pile of glory behind to go measure out my bulk brown rice flour, I consoled myself with this thought, "Maybe I will eat cheese in heaven."

Thus began the song that entertained me for the rest of the shopping trip and all the way back home.  Sing along...

Would you know my name,

If I ate you in heaven?

Would you taste the same,

On my nachos in heaven?

I must be strong,

And carry on,

For I know cheese must belong,

Up in heaven.*

*Note to Biblical scholars:  I have no Scriptural proof that cheese exists in heaven, but I do have abundant Scriptural evidence of hope and healing.  I'm pretty sure eating lots of cheese can reasonably go in the "hope and healing" category.