Taking Time to show Kindness

Sunday morning found me hiding under my covers. For years and years, as long as I can remember, I have been an early riser, mostly because it is the only way I could write and carry on a full fledged ministry and still keep my family as a priority. With books to be written and deadlines to be met and emails to be answered and radio shows for interviews and conferences to arrange, arising early gave me two to three more hours to my day. But this day, I didn't want to get up, feeling weary from the fray. I had thoughts wandering through my head like, "I don't think I can do this anymore. Why have I been driving myself for ministry? You know I love you, Lord. But for the moment, I can't think about everything and I don't want to face this day. I may never get out of bed!" Funny how Satan attacks our thoughts and uses discouragement against us female beings who live and love so much with our emotions.

Now, to give perspective, I was churning inside from the news of a friend's 6 year old daughter who had been sexually molested by a 15 year old cousin; a close family member of mine is struggling against deathly illness, another friend heavy with the care of a precious child who will have mysterious medical challenges forever, the medical issues of two of my own sweet children looming always; and all the other burdens of life. I thought about the time when Jesus was walking along and a woman who had been bleeding for years and she touched his garment and "the strength went out of him." That's how I was feeling--in the midst of my labor with sweet ones, "the strength had gone out of Sally."

Finally, after hours of staying in bed, (from 6 a.m. to 9--that is very late for me!), my feet mechanically moved to the floor. Joy's sweet voice yelled up to me from downstairs, "Don't you dare get up, Mom!" I slipped back in bed, arranged my pillows and waited. She breezed in chattering joyfully about the great morning she was having bearing a tray with a lovely napkin, a steaming hot cup of tea, a glass bowl with freshly cut up cherries, raspberries and blueberries and whip cream on the top, and a small lit candle.

Now, I might have expected this from Sarah, but I wasn't expecting it from Joy. In that moment, Joy became to me the arms of God as she said, "I think you need a nice hug." She squeezed me tight and planted a kiss on my cheek. Her love offering to me seemed to say, "I love you, Sally. I am aware of the ragings of your soul. Here is a sweet angel to soothe your spirit with kindness today," as though it were from God Himself. Joy's service to me became an act of an angel from God, an unexpected flash of light--a gift to strengthen me.

"I have been working for an hour, Mom. I cleaned up the whole downstairs and the kitchen. It looks so pretty. I figured if you were staying in bed that long, you must be in need of cheer. I love you! Now, enjoy yourself alone for a few minutes, I have a couple of more things to take care of!"

Five minutes later, some sweet friends called from Texas, who rarely ever call, and that even on a Sunday morning. "We just wanted to call and pray for you this morning. Is that ok?" Another angel from the Lord--as though He knew the timing, as though He wanted me to know He was still in the battle with me. After we prayed, I could sense my soul lifting.

The battle lines are familiar to me. I am what one might call an old warrior--familiar with the darkness, the battles raging, the issues at stake. I have learned to put one foot in front of another year after year, because my eyes are on what lies ahead--the reward of being with Jesus in His place that He is preparing for all of us who love Him. I have looked at Him and thought about Him and cherished His sacrificial life and His pattern has given me reason to keep going. But this day, this weary day, He broke into my moments, through two small acts of kindness to assure me of His presence. How thankful I am that two people responded to the promptings of my heavenly Father to pour out His gentle, quiet lovingkindess on my weary soul. Thank you, Joy, thank you, Macy's.

Fret Not

I love these early mornings. Clay and I sleep with our windows open and in the early morning, cool breezes fill our room, inviting us to snuggle under our covers for a few more delightful moments. (Where we live in Colorado at 7500 feet, no one has air conditioning!) I can't even remember a summer when I have been home so long or traveled so little, let alone sleep in until 6:30 or 7:00. During these moments, when I am awaken, feeling that I am the only one in the whole house who is awake, I have cherished my alone "in thought" moments. It seems sometimes, these are the moments when the Lord brings verses to mind and speaks to my heart. Yesterday morning, these thoughts sprang to my mind, so I thought I would take a few moments to write them down. "Fret not, it leads only to evil doing."

Evil doing sounds bad--like robbing a bank, committing adultery or murdering someone. Yet, David clearly exhorts us 3 times in Psalm 37 to fret not! When I am fretting, I am putting lots of effort into worrying about something that might happen--(fear!)--or worrying about a problem that is in my face but doesn't seem to have a good possible ending or isn't going away (doubt in God, in His goodness and in His ability to take care of a situation.)

Now, I am a practiced fretter--especially in the area of patience. I really wonder at God's timing. I really often have a lot to tell Him about how I think He should be running my life. Maybe if I fret a little bit more passionately, He will work more quickly! And there are so many things about which to fret--finances--always! The kids' futures--jobs, spouses, lives, choices. Our ministry--conferences, book deadlines, articles, Clay's stress and pressure, staffing needs. And on and on.

Fret not--don't worry--it will lead to evil doing. In what way? Fretting leads me to believe that I have the solution to my problems. Fretting leads me to doubt God and His providence in my life. Fretting can lead to frustration and anger and accusations and distraction and depression---all of which effect our relationships and actions and health.

Is there an example in the life of Christ to show me what David meant about what it looked like to fret not? Peter, Jesus' friend and disciple, saw Him during His most difficult moment on earth. Jesus had been abandoned by all of His precious disciples--leaders--in whom He had been building faith for three years. He was being mocked by the Roman soldiers and Pharisees---those who were supposed to be most holy and most committed to His reality. He was being beaten, spit upon, unjustly treated and wrongly accused--being prepared to die the worst kind of death. Peter must surely have had these moments cemented into his mind, since it was at these moments he had denied three times that he had even known Jesus. If there was ever a time to fret, to worry, to fear, to wonder about the reality of God's goodness, (my God, my God, why hast though forsaken me?), it was this time.

Yet, in his first book, Peter tells us, while being reviled, he did not revile in return. While suffering, he uttered no threats, but (and here is the secret and the choice He willingly made!) He kept entrusting Himself to Him who judges righteously." I Peter 2:22-23. There it is--Jesus entrusted--gave the whole of His being and well being into God's hands and trusted Him with the results. It almost insinuates that Jesus hardly noticed the attacks raging around Him. Entrust yourself to God, Sally!

What does David suggest I do instead of fretting? "Trust in the Lord and do good. Dwell in the land and cultivate faithfulness" Plant seeds of faithfulness, water them, nurture them, build a whole crop of this faithfulness! This indicates a choice of my will--decide to be faithful and then keep working on being faithful!

He goes on, "Delight thyself in the Lord" Make God my joy, my pleasure, my hope. "And He will give you the desires of your heart. Commit your way to the Lord, trust also in Him and He will do it. Rest in the Lord and wait patiently for Him (Ugh--again--wait?!) Seems He makes me practive faithfulness and waiting a lot, like it is an expected action of life for a faithful person.

Did Peter have anything else to say about this concept from his letter that would shed light on my need to fret not, and instead trust God?

"In the same way, you wives be submissive to your own husbands." (Now, God is getting personal---did he mean this husband? This circumstance? This time?) and then He goes on to say, "Let not your adornment be external, but let it be the hidden person of the heart, (the place where no one but God sees!) with the imperishable quality of a gentle and quiet spirit which is precious in the sight of God. So, fretting not, involves the hidden places of my heart where I make a decision about how I will handle my pressures, circumstances and responsibilities. How is a spirit gentle and quiet?--when it has ceased trying to control, manage and take control of the circumstances.

God is transcendent--outside of time--able to see the behind and before--He has already planned to be with me and available to me every step of the way. He has a plan, but I have a choice to make--to rest in that plan, to accept the limitations of this husband, child, family or life circumstance and to rest in the trust that I have of God's ownership of my life and times--or to rather worry, fret, beg, stew, advise--and finding more strife, emptiness and frustration. This is what is precious in His sight--my loyalty, deep inside every day, when He knows what trusting Him costs me, and how hard it was to trust, but whether I made the decision to abandon it all unto Him or choose to fret about it for a few more days. Let me choose to dwell in the land and cultivate faithfulness today---no matter the issue, the relationship or the problem.

So, when I finally rolled out of bed, the Holy Spirit had already initiated a day for me--a day in which I needed rest, entrust, be patient and cultivate faithfulness. He was speaking to me from those very verses I had memorized as a youth--His voice already had a vocabulary built into my heart. Did He already know my computer server would be down for two days, that I couldn't get letters from Sarah and Joel? (I really am tempted to whine and fret when I don't get those expected emails from my sweet ones!) Get big bills from the May birthdays and mission trips prep and graduation and, and, and--oh yeah---gentle and quiet spirit--stop fretting, it leads only to evil doing! and so a new day, a new lesson, and a new understanding of just how patient God is with me, His child , who doesn't always get it right at first, but is learning to listen!

A Recipe Approach to Family Culture

Many years ago when Clay and I were first living in Vienna, I began an interest in bread making. Though we loved the different choices of bread available in the local bakery, we really missed our American sandwich bread. The Europeon breads available for sandwiches, at the time, were either white-flour wonder type of bread, or very chewy rye or doughy whole grain bread. (I just returned from a trip to Vienna and found the variety to be much wider than when we first lived there many years ago!)We longed for a normal, soft wheat bread for our sandwiches.

The drive for familiar bread sent me to several cook books. I read many articles on bread, tried many recipes and started an adventure that turned me into a full-fledged baker. In our small neighborhood market, I could go and have my wheat ground fresh and then take my flour home to use for my bread. One of my fellow missionary friends had my favorite recipe, but I decided to start experimenting with it and added my own touches to our very own bread recipe. Oats, eggs and milk supposedly added to the bread’s lightness. I incorporated them. Honey was a preferred taste. Our children preferred the golden 86 wheat in recipes.

Over the years, I tried whole kernel breads, but found my family preferred not having seeds get stuck in their teeth! (Sarah and I love whole kernels all through our bread!) So I started another experiment—grinding millet, rye, brown rice, spelt and flax seed into fine powder and putting it into my bread, as well.

So making bread, whole grain rolls, pizza dough, herb-onion bread and dinner rolls and pancakes became our family favorites that evolved after years of experimenting, reading, and copying other good bakers. But in the end, my goal was to come up with what suited us. (Please don’t ask me if I give out my recipe—I get those requests all the time, but since I am an “add a little of this and a little of that” person, I don’t know how to come up with an exact recipe. I also use a Bosch, which not everyone has, so I have promised everyone that by the time my next book is finished (and will hopefully come out next spring,) I would perfect my recipe in such a way that others can try it. Promise!)

However, I have noticed that I have never seen anything like my recipe in the books I have searched. It is uniquely mine! As I was thinking about this, I was also thinking of how much scope there is for all sorts of recipes---spaghetti sauce, chocolate cakes, chile, etc., for a great variety of different things combined together, but still taste good! No one recipe is right----they are all different, and yet good to the taste to those who prefer them.

Some are more intellectual, some athletic, some very active, some more practical, others more introverted. Yet, all of these possibilities and more are valid and worthy within the bounds of their own unique family culture. God is a God of variety and diversity as can be seen in so many different aspects of creation. Yet, I have seen many families, and more particularly moms, who are always comparing themselves to others and falling short of someone else’s list of attributes.

Comparing ourselves to others will almost always lead to disappointment. God made us for His glory as we are and as our children are within the limitations of their own personality. My children are so vastly different from each other---in personality, looks, body type, preferences, growth and development, intelligence and skills. To compare them or discipline them the same or to expect that they would all behave the same would place undo pressure on them to conform to a box that they could not fit into.

When Sarah was a little girl, if I just glanced the least bit disapprovingly in her direction, she would immediately repent of whatever she was doing—often even thinking I was disappointed in her because she had such a sense of her own internal excellence. Joel is such an abstract person, that often he would be in his own thoughts and totally oblivious if I had even been talking to him. To train him, I had to make sure I had his attention and then he was willing to obey. Nathan was my confident, strong willed child, much like me. I had to spend lots of time with him talking, playing and doing his school work, and training personally, because his extroversion and active little mind and body required different focus. Joy started out very self-sufficient and calm and is very intuitive about our expectations and what we expect of her. I motivated her by giving her the opportunity to spill all that was on her heart and just pointing her in the right direction. All children needed a different twist in their recipe to make them adequate. No system or formula exactly fit any of my children.

I believe that God offers us great freedom in exercising our authority over out children and home. There are “many ways to skin a cat,” as the saying goes. There are also many ways to love and discipline and instruct children. The result of many ways of such training is excellent.

Many women with whom I speak and work live under a phantom all the time that there is only one way to get it right. I find it unfortunate when speakers or books place great burdens on women’s shoulders to live up to or who define success by such rigid rules, that most feel like failures not living up to the standards. Satan is the one who loves to use these standards to kill the spirits of moms so that they will live constantly under the “feeling” that they have disappointed the Lord. Many seek to live by formula—the exact rules and values and decisions of some arbitrary leader who has spelled out such lists for others to follow. Such legalism kills the spirit of a family, produces an atmosphere of performance and uses guilt to motivate. Not only that, but such an atmosphere of strictness and regulation can ruin our testimony with other non-believers.

That is not to say we throw all rules out! God is a god of order and variety. But we must balance them in order to have a good result through the recipes of our family lives. I have to keep my water from being boiling hot or icy cold if I am going to see my yeast rise. Yet, I have a pretty big margin to work within in order to insure my yeast rises.

If we are too lax in the training of our children, they will be puff-balls and have little self-control or personal strength in their character. If we are too harsh in our discipline and instruction, our children will become performance and works based in their desire to receive our approval and will be subject of great criticism of others---future Pharisees of America, as I have said before. Yet, both are needed to bring a balance, resulting in great souls—love and grace; discipline and training.

How does this work itself in real life? I must establish my standards on scriptural principles. For instance, we have always used the verse in Phiillipians, “Whatever is true, whatever is lovely, whatever is pure,” and so on, as our standard for the kinds of things we should allow into our minds and hearts. Yet, when Clay and I decide what standers those are for our family, some of the movies my children are allowed to watch may be too offensive for your family. Some of our standards may seem too strict. Our choice of clothes style might fit well with your values but might compromise the values of others. Same with choices about books, food, school, college, internet limitations, and so on. . There is not an exact way to make these choices. We are expected by God to operate from our hearts and our consciences and to live by faith and allow the word of God to inform our decisions.

I was praying about an issue with my children one day. The Lord made it very clear to me that my children would be used by Him in different ways to reach different people. Sarah leans more to the introverted-intellectual side of things; Joel is an artist and musician and loves to espouse a certain value system in his preferences; Nathan is quite gregarious and very people oriented and a performer and actor and musician—a little more contemporary and extroverted in his clothing and behavior; Joy is still in the process of choosing her values and ways of expressing her own personality, but loves speaking, ministry and influencing people. Each child has had their own areas of Achille's heal, but as long as each is progressing in their heart, I validate their unique personality and design..

Yet, I judge how they are doing not by the externals alone, but by their hearts—Do they love and respond to us? Do they love the Lord and are they advancing in their walk with God and developing their heart for others. If the answers to these questions are yes, then we allow them freedom to be who they are. As young adults, they are learning to forge their own “recipes” of life if you will. There will be a Clarkson value system at the base, but I am sure they will add their own imprimatur to the living out of their stories, because they were uniquely made by God for His purposes.

Through this process of growth, over the years, I have had to understand that not all of our own choices of how to live will please everyone. Yet , as long as we feel we are obeying and pleasing God, we are free to express our faith through the integrity of our own family culture. Variety indeed is the spice of life—may we celebrate the unique ways we reflect God’s glory, enjoy life to His glory, and live in the freedom He has provided. Each family culture will have its own flavor, but hopefully, by God’s grace, each can be flavored with God’s beauty and unique design.

Indeed it is a true statement, “The faith which you have, have as your own conviction before God. Happy is he who does not condemn himself in what he approves.” Romans 14: 22

About Me

An eager writer, joyful mother of four children ages 24, 21, 18 and 13, partner for life and in ministry to Clay, my rock. I am a dreamer who always gets bogged down with the details of life. I've moved seventeen times since being married; six internationally and like to think that somehow it expanded my soul! I greatly enjoy creating tasty meals, and bringing festivity into my home through seasonal decor and music, art and candles. I love to spend time with my best friends, of whom my children and husband are at the top. I am probably ADHD and now no longer wonder where my son got it. I sing and have recorded with Clay who is a song writer. I love to walk and hike, love being out in beauty, enjoy writing and speaking. Reading and teaching is a passionate drive and I love to think and learn as well as to engage in lots of thoughts, ideas and discussions. I appreciate loving friends, kindness, courage and thoughtfulness. My wonderful children have become my soul mates and dearest friends. I never feel a bit guilty for enjoying my caffeine - strong black tea and European coffee. I love Jesus and am amazed at His integrity; he is the center of my heart and the passion of my life.

Blessed are the Peacemakers…

Slouched down in my leather seat in a crowded railway car, I was being gently rocked to sleep by the rhythmic swaying back and forth of the old train clattering across the Polish countryside. Returning from a student conference in the mountains where I had been teaching and counseling with college students all weekend had left me a bit weary, lonely and depleted. Working through translators for each message was a slow, tedious process. As an American woman, I felt the cultural distance between me and these youth who had grown up under a supressive, Communist government. The religious freedom I had taken so for granted, made these students eager to know about God, about Jesus, about a kingdom in heaven where they would be free and blessed by the God who made them. Exhaustion tended to exagerate cultural differences and made me feel somewhat isolated as a 24 year old, struggling to understand even a portion of the things that were spoken to me. I remember riding along in the car wondering if I would ever not feel lonely.

Suddenly, the train took a small bend and in front of me were fields of thousands upon thousands of bright red poppies, gently swaying in the wind. Fields of poppies, obviously growing wild, spread over miles of the countryside. I was mesmerized by the beauty and found myself wondering how long it had taken for these beautiful flowers to be planted over the years so that there would be so many everywhere. I began to imagine the invisible hand of God intentionally spreading seed generously over the many fields, so that in a country where there had been so much division, war and darkness for so many generations, that there would still be a picture of His beauty, creation and life to comfort those who would see it. That it would draw their thoughts and hearts, like it did mine, to thoughts of Him who was the artist of such beauty.

This has become to me a sort of picture of my place in the world. Jesus often talked about sowing seed in many of His parables. The people of His time were tied more closely to farming, sowing, reaping because their very lives depended on the well-being of the crops as their source of food.

James 3:18 says, "The seed whose fruit is righteousness is sown in peace by those who make peace." I desire that there be a harvest of righteousness in and through my life as big and expansive as the poppy fields of my memory. This verse would indicate that righteousness is sown by peacemakers. Jesus communicated to His disciples in Matthew 5: "Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the sons of God." Jesus himself, gave His life so that we might have peace with God. His whole being is focussed on redeeming, buying back that which was lost, bringing life where there is death.

I am most like Him when I, too, become a peacemaker, a redeemer, bringing peace where there was hostility, life where there is death. But the reason I so like the verse in James is that it brings us a picture of what we must do to bring this harvest of righteousness about--we must sow the seeds of righteousness, seed by seed, so that our harvest will be plentiful. We must sow seeds daily---weekly--for our whole lives, that there will be remnants of His beauty, peace, redemption, everywhere we go, every day that we live. If we sow peace and not anger in our home, there will be a legacy of peace. If we sow anger, a legacy of anger and death. It is a choice we make, every day, every hour, as to what we are sowing and what we will reap.

The seeds I sow are in relationship to people in my life every day. I must make a decision in my heart to sow a seed of peace where there is strife--to choose to be a peace-maker and to sow God's love and redemption. I must sow seeds of encouragement and faith through my words and through my writing to bring others to the point of peace in their own lives. Seed by seed, choice by choice, I have the ability to bring about a great harvest that will be ready for reaping in the final day when I meet Jesus face to face. But in order for a farmer to have a harvest, he must plan on what he will sow, he must plan the seeds he will plant---it doesn't happen by chance. So I must choose what crop I will sow, how I will sow it, and choose to sow it in each situation and in each relationship that God brings my way. Peace and redemption also do not just happen by chance in my own life. There had to be an intentional plan.

There are times when I get letters from people---sometimes even hostile letters--that criticize my Pollyanna approach to life. Recently, a weary mom wrote, "I am sick of hearing about your perfect children! I am unsubscribing from your newsletter."

Now, I always take emails that I receive to heart. It seems that the meaning behind this letter, was that I only see and report the positive things about my family---and that I put forth only those things which I think are perfect. I hope that I never give the impression that I am perfect, or that my children are perfect or that my marriage is perfect, or anything else is perfect. I would hate to impose guilt on anyone because of creating false standards through the stories of my articles, that someone else feels they can't immulate. I hope instead to always point my sweet friends to the One who has so befriended me. As a matter of fact, I have only made it this far because I so depend on God's grace and when I feel inadequate or like a failure, which I think all women do from time to time, there is a place I have trained myself to go--where Jesus is. I tell Him how I am feeling and then by faith, I acknowledge how grateful I am that He has made me adequate in Himself, by His strength, through His love and for His glory. I seek to rest there, as staying and simmering and swimming in the sea of guilt is destructive and heart-killing.

I have discovered that no matter how hard I try, I often fall short of my own expectations---let alone the expectations of others. If this is true of me, that I fail--even when trying--then I must understand that even the best and most mature person I know, will also fail herself and me! So, my choice in my writing and in my life, is to give a picture of ideals for which I strive, in the context of the messy world in which I live. I want to sow a picture of beauty, a field of hope, and pattern of unconditional love in the midst of fields of life where there are weeds, rocks and untilled ground.

I have had a history of people very close to me who live in anger and criticism. This sowing of strife has left a string of broken relationships, deep hurt, alienation. Sometimes I am afraid to be around these people because no matter how hard I try or what I say or do, I know that eventually I will do something to arouse their criticism again. (I am choosing not to name these people as they are very close to me and I don't want to unnecessarily hurt them.) I used to think that if I just tried hard enough or did enough, eventually I would receive the acceptance I was looking for.

But it took many years, to realize that their anger and criticism had nothing to do with me and no matter how hard I tried, I would never be acceptable to them, because the problem was in their own dark and hurting heart. But in order to have in my heart a harvest of peace, and not bitterness or anger; and a harvest of love and not hate and retaliation, I had to seek to plant seeds of God's righteousness, in order that my heart would truly bear a harvest of His making. This required that I pondered what it meant to be like God, to understand through His word, that love covers a multitude of sin; to learn that Jesus Himself, when He was being crucified, "while being reviled, did not revile in return, but kept trusting Himself to God who judges righteously." (I Peter 2:23) He became my model--that I would choose not to revile those who were angry or negative, but that I, like Jesus, would keep trusting myself to God---to place my issues in His file cabinets and to let Him deal with my difficulties, and then to close the drawer once these issues were safe in His hands.

Instead of hoping that those near me would love me in such a way as to make me feel good about myself, I just kept reading the word everyday----seeking to know my God better, pondering the stories of Jesus, thinking about His communication to me through how He lived and what He said. Now, as I am getting older, I find His love to be deeply satisfying. After literally thousands of hours in his presence over the years, I have been influenced by being in the company of someone so compassionate, loving and strong. I have made peace with Him and appreciate Him. In doing so, I learned that I could give that peace more easily to others, because I didn't have as many expectations of them and I wasn't as dependent on how they responded to me, in order to feel good about myself.

However, I see a lot of people wasting time, effort and energy in being critical of others close to themselves. There is a lot of anger, disappointment, jealousy, hate and bitterness floating around in the lives of people, that color their view of life, suck the energy out of them, and cause them to wonder where God has gone. It is so easy to be critical of a family member or of our husbands and wallow in unmet expectations, or friends who have forsaken us, or in a child who has gone astray or is just immature or has a personality flaw that drives us crazy, or a parent who has abused or rejected us for our values.

James also spoke to this in the same passage where he taught about sowing peace. His words, "For where jealousy and selfish ambition exist, (getting our own way), there is dis-order and every evil thing! But the wisdom from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, reasonable, full of mercy and good fruits, unwavering and without hypocrisy. And the seed whose fruit is righteousness is sown in peace by those who make peace." (James 3:13-18)

It starts with a choice--to allow the Holy Spirit to be Lord of our lives, even in the midst of strife; to decide ahead of time to imagine what it looks like to bring peace and redemption to each moment of life; to choose to sow righteousness into our relationships, because He chose to sow righteousness and peace into our lives, even at great cost to Himself. I believe that if thousands of His followers chose to sow this way each day, on all of the fields of life, there would be such a great crop of righteousness, visible beauty of His life, even in a place where so much darkness exists, that many hearts would be open to Him and to His ways, because of the overwhelming crop of righteousness present before their eyes. But it all begins with a choice in my heart and a plan to sow today, this day, in these fields where I find myself.

Whoever it is that brings so much emotional disappointment can keep us from the comforting love of God if we never make it to the point of forgiveness and acceptance of the person and circumstances. I know how deeply it can hurt to be rejected or ignored or treated unjustly. I have shed many tears over many years.

Yet, I can honestly say, that it has been these difficulties that have brought me to a place of freedom and joy. I have desperately needed the grace of God and in so seeking it, I have found it to be deeper than even I could imagine. He has shown me how deep His love is for me and how much He wants me to give as deeply to those in my life, who like me, don't deserve it, but need it all the same.

Live Life Joyfully!

I am sitting in my little quiet time chair with a cup of strong Austrian coffee in hand, (there are advantages to travel—I brought home 4 packages of the great tasting stuff along with a small box of chocolates!). From my second story window, I look out on the tops of countless pine trees with the Rocky Mountains peeking through the tree tops in the distance, and a sky full of wispy clouds slowing moving by. A reflection of God’s creative artistry is something I seek in every house we live in. I choose windows that look out on the most beautiful natural scene, so that I can have some of His life-stuff to bring peace and quiet to my soul each morning as I meet with him.

In front of me is a pile of books scattered over a coffee table, a couch pillow thrown onto the floor, a couple of pairs of shoes where they were shaken off and a potted plant that holds 3 wilting flowers in desperate need of water, some child’s abandoned sweat shirt, and a half-eaten candy bar. And this is only the picture of the eight feet in front of my chair. The rest of the house is much the same—meticulously decorated for this season—potted ivy with candles on my dining table, containers of flowers at the front door—blooming, but waiting to be potted, yet other life messes in the midst of the order and beauty. As the proverb says, “Where there are no oxen, the stalls are clean.” I comfort myself daily with the fact that I have 6 oxen living in my home, and thus my stalls are not always clean. My world is always a mixture of beauty and mess, order and piles of things not yet subdued. (Did I mention that Joy has interrupted me three times since I started writing this article? “Have you seen my brush? Will you practice my play lines with me for the play this afternoon? Do you think this shirt is too short to wear?)

Yet there is a significant little wooden plaque within my eye range. It reminds me daily, “Live Life Joyfully!” Choosing to live life joyfully is a choice that I have learned over a period of many years. Choosing to enjoy the moment is an inner discipline I have had to learn. It is not necessarily natural, but has become more so with the choosing of it as my practiced heart attitude.

I often love to watch toddlers. They move through their worlds with delight. We were waiting in a park on our mission trip for a friend to meet us. A toe-headed little boy was squealing with delight as he chased an illusive butterfly around a planting of bright red tulips and yellow daffodils. He was caught up in the joy of the moment, delighting in the toy figures that God had placed in his world for his pleasure. The little one was unaware that he had a milk-mustache, a shoe untied and a soiled stain on the knee of his jeans.

I hope that I am like this little boy to God—choosing to enjoy the beauty of the treasures he has place in my path. Noticing the toys he has given me for delight—Joy dancing through my room—beginning to look more like a young woman than a little girl—truly a beautiful sight to behold. One that will pass quickly. I am enjoying the tulips on my next door neighbors driveway—closest to ours, the green grass that has been so long hidden under piles of snow. Many years ago in the midst of another possible miscarriage, I was sitting by a window near some mountains in Austria. I had begun to bleed and was asking God from the bottom of my heart to please let me carry this child to completion. Just then, a little sparrow hopped up on my window sill and began to chirp. It stayed there for several minutes and hopped closer and closer to the edge where I was looking out. What a sweet, amazing creature—singing its heart out with no one to applause. It was as though God was saying to me, “I am listening. I see the birds on a thousand hills. I see you. I love you and am with you!” I didn’t know what would happen, but I knew that God, who is love, was with me and would be with me in whatever happened. The pregnancy turned out to be Sarah.

From then on, I decided to take notice of birds who sing—to believe that they are especially praising God. I see them also as a personal reminder from God that He is present. Often on my walks when I am pouring out my dark heart to God, a bird hops or sings along my trail and I am reminded that God is there—present with me! May He bring the reality of His joy to you today in the midst of your order and mess.

Grace upon Grace

I am on hold to the passport office trying to find out why Nathan's passport hasn't arrived yet. We ordered it eight weeks ago. Last week, we traveled up to the Denver passport office to get one on the spot. They told us that Nathan's passport would surely get here in time as they checked the status and told us that it was coming from South Carolina. Now, the Tuesday mail has come and it is not here. The passport office in Aurora doesn't print its number because they have too many people who call there. I found another number that took Joel and me 40 minutes to find. Now I have been on hold with them for 15 minutes. I wonder if people idealize what it takes to be in missions or to make a journey? I know before I left to go overseas the first time, I envisioned very spiritual people who talked in scripture phrases and trusted God daily to see miracles. Instead, I found very normal people who struggled with the administrative details and governmental requirements to live in a foreign country, the difficulties of a new language, missing familiar things like M&M's, chocolate chip cookies and English. They, like me, felt had to live through the stress of getting passports, visas, and all the other effort it takes to pas governmental regulations.

The difference was, that they had felt somehow responsible to see that everyone had an opportunity to hear the gospel message. When they read in Matthew that Jesus had compassion on the crowds and admonished His disciples to pray for the Lord of the harvest to send more laborers into the harvest, they felt that they must be an answer to the needs.

I know that many others I know, have a heart for the great things of the kingdom of God. However, their work is not so noticeable---or honored, but just as precious to the Lord. Some taking care of a sweet mother who has alzheimer's; holding and rocking a sick child who cries through out the night of an ear-infection or stomach ache; as a young single man or woaman, keeping faithful to keep to a pure moral standard and putting up with the lonliness of being a part of such a small minority of those who hold Biblical ideals, or a homeschooling mom patiently serving always in the home children without a break while daily hoping for progress in each of her children's education; or a single mom wondering how she will meet all her children's needs and daily depending on God to fill in the cracks. All are so very precious to God---all seen by Him--each minute act of faith, love and perservence.

As I have been thinking of what it requires each of us to make it through the maze of life graciously and with joyful energy that can only be explained by the Lord's presence, the kind of joy that allowed Paul to sing in prison, I have been so grateful for the unexplainable peace that comes in the moment I need to know I am not alone; the life that bubbles up in my heart as I seek, one more morning to find God as I open my Bible and lay my soul before Him. Though it is overused and could sound trite, the grace of God is that which carries me---mysterious, untouchable, foundational.

I was reminded of a song Clay, my husband, wrote many years ago. Be blessed as you read it. Blessings to all of you who are praying for us on our journey the next three weeks. You can see our pictures and reports online as we go, at whworld.blogspot.com. It will be a couple of days until we can send anything back, but we would love to have you follow us as we go! Peace! Grace Upon Grace All my selfish vanity and pride I laid beneath the cross where Jesus bled It was for those very sins that He was crucified But for His grace should I have died instead When at last my will to His conceded Jesus took me in that I might see All I never had was never needed To know that He has love enough for me

Now every day I know my Savior leads me Safely through the battlefield of sin Helping me to keep my eyes on Calvary Knowing someday soon He'll come again

But in my fleshly weakness I can falter When Satan puts the world before my eyes ' Til at the feet of God before the altar I fall in shame and then I realize

He gives me grace upon grace All of His fulness is mine And someday I will share All of His glory divine Unworthy servant am I That He should embrace All of my sin and my guilt With His grace upon grace

Blessed are the poor in spirit, Jesus said Blessed are the merciful and meek Blest be those who mourn they will be comforted Blessed is the God by grace we seek

Not a day goes by without His mercy All creation sheltered by His hand Members one another of His family Love so great I'll never understand

Why He gives me grace upon grace All of His fulness is mine And someday I will share All of His glory divine Unworthy servant am I That He should embrace All of my sin and my guilt With His grace upon grace

copyright 2007 Clay Clarkson

Go Down Dancing

Thou hast turned for me my mourning into dancing; Thou hast loosed my sackcloth and girded me with gladness That my soul may sing praise to Thee and not be silent. Oh Lord my God, I will give thanks to thee forever. Psalm 30:10-11

My sweet Father passed away 14 years ago. He was a figure bigger than life to me when I was a little girl. He was 6’3, an extrovert’s extrovert. He would often whistle, sing hum, and wiggle and dance through life. His nickname in college was “slick”. Because he had grown up as a depression child with much sadness, he lived his life as an adult with as little acknowledgement of sadness as possible. He worked hard to provide our family with the ability to enjoy life and have pleasures that his own family had not been able to afford. I didn’t get a lot of personal, one on one time with him. Very little, as a matter of fact. But there are a few, sweet memories that live in my soul as exaggerated in size because of the rarity that made them so precious.

One sparkling summer evening, when the summer roses and honey suckle wafted through the breezes of the night, I was allowed to attend an adult party with my parents. Probably a wedding or social affair of some sort. I remember dressing up in a sky-blue, polished cotton dress that was adorned with delicate eyelet lace and belted about with a satin sash. My black-patton shoes, it seemed to me, were just made for tapping or dancing on the floor where all of the jewel bedecked, rouge-faced women were swirling and laughing with their husbands. Visions of romance marched through the corridors of my girlish mind as I dreamed of a future day when I would be on the arm of my very own partner, gracefully and lightly gliding over the floor.

Suddenly, my handsome, smiling father swept over to the place where I was standing and easily picked me up into his arms. “May I have a dance with the princess of the ball?” My feet hung limply down, as He held me tight in His strong arms and easily swung my 4’8” frame round and round the dance floor. I could smell the spicy aftershave he had lightly rubbed on his face as we danced cheek to cheek, and breathed in the warm, spicy aroma. The bubbling excitement and pride that I felt at that giddy moment, being in the arms of my hero, who always appeared bigger than life, left me almost breathless. I treasured each second with delight. The smiles and admiration of the other doting adults were not lost on me. Finally, the music came to an abrupt stop. Gently, my father glided back to our dinner table in his long strides and set me lightly upon my chair.

“Thank you for the pleasure of your company, sweet princess,” he affectionately said, as he turned to find my mother.

I haven’t visited this lovely memory in many years. Yet, it is a picture to me of one of the ways I have come to view my own relationship with God---dancing through life, with deep joy and gratefulness filling the core of my being, as I am held and cherished in the arms of such a great, admired and worthy partner. He picked me and carries me and celebrates life with me, because of His love, affection and kindness.

The older I get, the more I have come to cherish with great delight the joy and beauty my creator has generously bestowed on me—not because of anything I have done to deserve it—but because His very character is life and love and giving and celebrating and redeeming and creating.

I want to live at that place in my heart where I have come to know Him as such a person. I want to respond to His love with deep, passionate, grateful appreciation. I want Him to know how deeply I am beginning to appreciate all that He made in this world that I might experience pleasure and know beauty and rest in redemption.

I have struggled to get to this place. The onslaught of darkness of an enemy who is jealous of the glory of my precious Lord relentlessly pursues me every day, seeking to destroy the wonderful picture of my Lord that I have learned to cherish in my heart. Satan would love for me to focus on that which has been tainted with the stain of selfishness and destruction of sin. He would love for me to be ravaged in my soul with the fears that a post-modern world, filled with violence, a loathing for all that is pure and lovely, brings.

Yet, he seeks to deceive me on other sides, to doubt the reality of my prince. I am surrounded by those who live in the chains of legalism, a rule for every move in life, an air of condemnation and suspicion for those who celebrate the authentic joy of life. Instead they live  a life of worry, fear and condemnation. These have lost the vision of their Warrior King who has layed down His own life, that they may have unending joy. Satan has deceived them into doubting and ignoring that light that is surrounding them, if they would but open their soulish eyes. These, Satan would use, to drag me down with them to the place of bitterness and harshness and oppression of soul, oppressed by my own inadequacies.

Yet, in order to continue to live beyond the oppressive blackness of the night, I must live with the ears of my soul straining the hear the music of the One who is creating, restoring and bringing life to a glory that will envelope and swallow up all darkness. I must look with the eyes of my heart for the beauty and color and design that every day shouts to me of the creator behind the luminous colors, powerful sounds, lovely words and thoughts that speak to me of His reality. I want to go down dancing---end my life, choosing every minute until its close, to celebrate the reality of His life with the fullness of faith and loyalty my king desires, living in the freedom of His gracious love, looking for the time when we will celebrate, in the final banquet, the victory He has so long ago preordained.

“Praise the Lord! Sing a new song, And His praise in the congregation of the godly ones. Let Israel be glad in His Maker; Let the sons of Zion rejoice in their King. Let them praise His name with dancing; Let them sing praises to Him with timbrel and lyre. For the Lord takes pleasure in His people; He will beautify the afflicted ones with salvation. Let the godly ones exult in glory; Let them sing with joy on their bed. This is an honor for all His godly ones. Praise the Lord. Hallelujah! Psalm 149

Dreaming in Asheville

I think Asheville is the perfect place to begin a blog on dancing through life. It's a place of beauty, of music and good food nestled in the heart of the mountains. It reminds me of how I want to live. So come along for the ride as I dance through this life and share the beauty I find.