Candy Corn

It's a good thing candy corn is typically only widely available in the fall, because I have a real weakness for it. I'm not sure why ... they don't really look like corn, they are excedingly sweet, and they leave my teeth feeling coated. Their flavor isn't really anything that stands out (though one year they had caramel apple candy corn - oh my! I've never seen them since though, pity).

I have some in a leaf shaped bowl in my apartment right now, and I was noticing the other day how though most of them have a white tip, an orange middle, and a yellow bottom - there are always a few stand-outs. A yellow one with a white tip, a completely orange one, and of course the broken pieces. If there was such a thing as a perfect piece of candy corn, the model the company was striving to reproduce, it does not exist in these bags. Each piece is unique.

Just like us. Some of us have holes where things aren't filled in quite right. Most of us are dented or broken. We have something missing - sometimes as severe as missing an entire "color." But when you get down to it, we all "taste" pretty much the same. We're all human. We're all sinners. To God we all have something missing, something that makes us fall short of perfection. And yet when he made humans, he looked at his creation and said that it is good.

The closest I think I can come to understanding why God loves something so imperfect and often downright ugly - something that misses the mark by so much, is art class. At some point in school I think most of us had to make something out of clay or paper mache. It never turned out quite like what we had in mind, it missed this mark of perfection. But because it was something we made, we cherish it. It means something more to us than a soggy collection of newspaper. I still have my favorite art project, a paper mache butterly-frog-cat, which has become very meaningful to me though many would look at it as trash.

Perhaps there are some of us OCD enough to pick through the candy corn and only put the "best" out in our bowls. But I think most of us would agree that candy corn is candy corn and it all tastes the same (AKA - YUMMY!). They all sit in the same bowl, and (at least in my house) they're all gonna get eaten. I know when God looks at me, He doesn't see that I'm missing a color or that I've been broken - He sees me as the child He made and loves.

Results Driven or Spirit Driven?

I noticed today that I often have a feeling of "unrest" when I have something open at work. Apparently I have a touch of OCD that LOVES closing things. Taping up boxes and sending them back on their way brings me a certain amount of satisfaction.

I've always been a "hard worker" ... something school and work have always given me a little pat on the back for. People who needs things done like people who get things done. But I'm not so sure this little personality tick is always such a great thing.

Last blog, I talked about these hideous caterpillars I didn't kill, because I found out they'd become bright and beautiful yellow butterflies. Once I knew what the outcome would be, I was more tolerant of their appearance (and destruction of my lemon tree).

During the past few weeks, my lemon tree has become nearly leafless. And the ugly caterpillars have fled. How they even left, I'm not sure. Where they went? I have no idea. But they are gone, and I don't even see a hint of a cocoon. I saw ONE on my lime tree, but now I can't even find him.

The fact of life is, we don't always get to see the results. And this can drive a person like me crazy. I like to see the end! If I start a book, even if it is terrible, I want to finish it! If I pay to see a movie, I want to finish even if it is aweful.

But life isn't a race. There is no rush to get to the end. As the song says, "One day at a time, sweet Jesus ..." Life is a journey. There is so much I can miss along the way if I'm focused on the end. I thought I had learned that, but I find myself receiving needed reminders.

Earlier this week, I start watching a movie because I had read the book ("The Ruins" by Scott Smith ... think Stephen King only somehow less ... meaty? Less filling? More soulessly haunting.) and I actually turned it off. I didn't finish.

As irked as I am that the caterpillars ate my lemon tree and left ... that I don't get to see them transform into butterflies ... I'm trying to see what God can teach me from that. That sometimes we plant a seed and don't get to see if it grows. That if I rush through life trying to reach my goals, I'm going to miss things along the way - which may have been what God really wanted, not for me to reach that goal.

A couple of weeks ago I decided to become a Mary Kay consultant. I was excited, I think I would have enjoyed it. Then my face broke out into a pimply rash worse than I ever had as a teen. I truly feel like God was working on something by having me start to move in that direction - but obviously I will not be selling skin care products I'm allergic to!

So, as much as I like results, I'm going to start appreciating the process. Appreciating each precious day God gifts me on this earth. Because the thing I'm focusing on may not even be what He has in mind. Detours happen (HOW many detours have I had thus far in my life? I'm starting to EXPECT them!), plans change, one calling overpowers another.

If my focus is where it should be, on God, I can take all these things in stride. He may change my direction. His path for me may meander up the mountainside, and it may be the twists and turns He wanted to show me, not just the view at the top. How much more do we appreciate the view at the end of a long hike than when we've zipped up a ski-lift?

One day at a time sweet Jesus, show me where I should stop and smell the roses. You love me, and I can trust that I'm not going to miss out on a thing if I'm looking to You.

Beauty from pestilence

Yesterday I walked outside to water my lemon tree. Yes, I have a lemon tree. When leaving a training program in Florida, I saw it in the airport and it's actually grown into quite a lovely little patio tree. It has yet to actually make any lemons, but what can you do?

So I see what looks like rather large bird poop on one of the leaves. Strange, but maybe a bird was sitting on the railing of my patio? But the more I looked at it, I noticed a certain symmetry. It was some kind of caterpillar!

My boyfriend was visiting, so I yelled for him to come look at how gross it was. Before the words were even out of my mouth, I noticed that there were about half a dozen of them all over my plant. Ugh, I'd been invaded by poop-monsters!

Being less squeamish about the bugs than me, he poked at one of them ... which promptly caused it to display menacing looking orange horn-like protrusions from its head-area. Now it looks gross AND evil, or at least poisonous. I certainly wanted them off my plant. But I had to know what they were in order to do that.

It didn't take much of a search to find out that these shockingly disgusting looking creatures actually winters in a chrysalis and emerges in the spring as a giant swallowtail butterfly - 4 to 5.5 inches and a sunny bright yellow with black markings.

Now, I obviously like frogs. But as much as I like frogs, I also LOVE butterflies. The China pattern I always wanted is "Butterfly Meadow" by Lenox, about as girlie-garden as you can get. There was no way I could destroy these ugly creatures who are eating my fruitless lemon tree ... simply based on their potential.

I wonder if God sees us this way? I may have heard it before, but had forgotten that God decided His Spirit could not put up with us humans for longer than 120 years. In our sin and fruitless living we must look at least as ugly as those caterpillars. But God knows that, if we let Him be in control, He can form us into something of awe-inspiring beauty. I want to let God make me into something He can once again look at. It will take a lifetime, but it is worth it and I'm thankful He still gives us a chance. That simply accepting His son is enough for Him to look at us again.

Even beyond that - He can take the ugliest, most painful situations and turn them into something that brings Him incomparable glory.

The poop-imitating caterpillar is hard for me to look at, but because I love the butterflies I'm going to give them a chance.

Trust me ...

Coming from a used-car salesman - its the sound of Bondo and duct tape creaking under a coat of cheap lacquer - something you expect to start dropping bolts as soon as you drive out of the lot.

Coming from a doctor - it feels like this must be about to hurt - perhaps more than you originally thought!

Coming from your investment company - it smells like standing too close to a big city steam tunnel on Wall Street - and you wonder why they think it doesn't stink.

Coming from a loved one - it is a well meant plea or promise - and you want to, but how much can you lean on what they've built? That depends on the foundation.

Something I've been told much of my life, perhaps more often in reference to myself than to others, is that trust has to be earned. And with people, that is true. It is something that it built on time and experience. It is something that withstands the tests life throws at it - and life will test you - if it isn't, you might want to check your pulse.

But oh, the wonder and joy of God. We, who are anything but trustworthy, have been given the gift of always being secure in His promises. We don't have to wait for Him to "earn" our trust (but if you need the reassurance - just look at the history of what He has done for His children ... has He done anything BUT earn our trust?). Isn't trust just another word for faith?

When all our faith, all our hope, is in God ... not resting on the shoulders of men ... we are set free. Free to love unconditionally. Free to pray expectantly. Free from our past and our sin, because He has promised no longer to hold them against us, not once we place our full trust in Him. We free those around us, we stop depending on them for our joy and our peace.

And through placing all our trust in Him, when we really stop taking matters into our own hands, we become more trustworthy ourselves. We don't make promises we can't keep, for we can do all things through His strength, rather than our own. We don't do those things that are hurtful, because we begin acting in His love rather than to serve ourselves.

We trust the brakes in our car to stop us - but a leak can render them useless. We trust that chair we've always sat in to hold us up - but one loose screw, one cracked board, and we're sprawled on the floor wondering what just happened.

I dare you to really trust God. Take all your cares, your worries, to His throne in prayer. Nothing in this world or the next will cause Him to fail. He, who created every star in the sky and hung the moon over the oceans, notices and cares about you and me. All the time, without fail. Embrace the freedom, the joy, the peace, that can come with placing your trust in the one place where it belongs.

Devastation

This morning, I had what was no small disappointment. I'd been planning for today for at least weeks, if not a month, and found out this morning that circumstances beyond my personal control were ending that at the last minute.

My first thought was "I'm so devastated." Really? Devastated? I don't like to think of myself as a drama queen - but that eloquent little voice in my head sure can be sometimes.

There are two definitions of the word "devastate" at Dictionary.com. The first - "to lay waste, destroy." I'm not destroyed! I'm definitely still here. Could I choose to let my disappointment lay waste and destroy? Absolutely. I could waste the entire day laying in bed and crying. I could destroy a friendship over the first very human disappointment we've encountered. Instead - I'm choosing to be forgiving and try to understand. I'm holding back the poisoned barbs of words that I'm tempted to fling before fully understanding what happened.

Instead, I'm doing today what I had planned to do tomorrow. If I waste today, then I've wasted tomorrow as well. I'm still off work tomorrow - and its entirely possible my plans could be picked up then. Or I could just go into work and not waste my time off feeling sorry for myself. I'm being thankful that I'm no longer studying organic chemistry like the poor girl sitting across from me in the Honda waiting room.

The second definition is "to overwhelm, confound, stun." Ok, maybe in that sense my initial reaction could be described as devastation. Except that the news that my plans were being scrambled was not the news that I or someone I love has cancer, that my car is falling apart and not covered by the extended warranty, that I've lost my job, or so many other much more important things.

Not that this wasn't important. And I will be devastated if this wasn't an isolated incident, which I believe it was. I just wish it didn't have to be today. But I'm not devastated. I'm just living life as a human with all the fun emotions, broken plans, and grinding gears that come with it. Would I want it any other way?

Open Hands

My pastor often speaks about praying with open hands, meaning going before God's throne with a willingness to let go of everything for Him, for His glory, to be in His perfect will. He asks us to be willing to give anything God asks for, do anything He asks us to do, and to go anywhere He asks us to go.

This is a hard concept for humans in general, and something I seem to have an especially hard time with. And there is really no need ... God promises to give us the strength (Philippians 4:13), resources (Matthew 6:30), and wisdom (1 Corinthians 23-25) for the things He has for us to do.

My biggest problem is in letting go of the things I've received from God. I tend to think of them as permanent. For example, my job. I feel it is definitely a gift from God. I enjoy it, and I feel like I'm contributing back to society at the same time. I started it with the assumption that this is what I would do until retirement. I couldn't imagine a reason why God would ask me to let go of it.

Meanwhile I'm praying for things like a family. And last week I had one of those "aha!" moments. I had been praying open handedly about relationships, the ways that I serve in the church and community, what groups I take part of - but I was clinging to that job for dear life. It was security and independence. But God had me realize that yes, this is what He wants me doing right now. However, He wants me to be willing to give it up if He asks.

And that made me realize, what if He does bless me with a family - do I want to put this job over them? Absolutely not. The fear of thoughts like "But what if God asks me to leave the country and be a missionary - how would I pay my student loans?" dissolved. He will not ask me to do anything He hasn't provided for. I can let go. That's what He asks us to do. It's called trust. Why is it sometimes easier to trust humans, who are going to fail in some way eventually, than a God who never fails and never leaves us?

If I'm really putting my trust in God - its easy to pray with my hands wide open (John 14:1) and get ready to enjoy the ride.

30 ... going on about 8 ...

I keep hearing grumblings of aging among my peers ... but I just refuse to buy it. Sure, I know I AM aging - but I seriously don't feel its affects all that often yet. Granted, I do have a few tricks up my sleeve.

I work out pretty much daily. I don't complain about it, or have a set goal in mind such as "When my weight reaches ___, I'll stop." It doesn't matter what I weigh - its just something I need to do. Otherwise, as the book "Younger Next Year" puts it ... my body starts breaking down thinking (via hormones and enzymes) that it is no longer needed. So I flail and flop in my living room for about an hour every day, and 99.9% of the time feel much better for it.

But mostly - I find joy in the little things. Call me easily amused if you must - I'm not sure why that is considered a bit of a slight. I'll happily sit in a patch of woods and just take in what is around me ... a "majestically placed" boulder, balanced by the hand of God and sprinkled with moss. A butterfly silently flitting about its business, not a bit worried about if what it is doing in life is impactful enough or not (though you know there is that theory about butterfly wings and storms on the other side of the world ...). I really think stopping and appreciating what is around you is that important. How often does someone say "Wow, the moon is really beautiful tonight?" and most people just glance at it and say "Yeah." Why not take a few moments of your precious time to really take it in, and say a little thank you to God for creating such sights just for us to see? And realizing that the God capable of hanging the moon and turning the tide still loves you deeply.

Probably the best way to feel 8 again, to feel that carefree lightness you felt as a kid ... is to swing. It had been years since I had done this - but funny - my rear does still fit on that strap of rubber, or whatever those less-than-ergonomic seats are made of. I'll admit a bit of nervousness about the ability of the A-frame to handle an adult - but it was fine. And really - does it hurt that bad to fall from 2-4 feet onto your well-padded posterior? It's worth the risk.

The next thing you know - the wind is rushing through your hair, making you feel like a princess as you fly backwards and it sweeps across your face. Making you feel like you're flying as you zoom back forwards and it trails behind you. And at the apex of your smile-shaped flight ... for only a moment ... you are weightless ... free-floating ... and everything seems to just stop for a moment. Then a touch of adrenaline as gravity kicks in, and you accelerate back towards the ground ... only to be caught in the arc of the path of that simple chain and rubber contraption and lifted skyward once more.

Who cares what the neighbors might think? If they look at you funny, just tell yourself that they're simply jealous.