The Dream I'm Dreaming

Today I posted a question on my Facebook page: "What do you want to be when you grow up?"

Okay - I'm 46 years old, and ya think I would know this by now, let alone already doing what I want to do. Up until recently, I thought I was doing what I want. I've been at the same company for 17 years - a small employee-owned wealth management service - and I honestly believed I was a lifer. I mean it's a great company, the owner is nice and generous, zero turn-over, great pay, great benefits, flexibility when you need it. So what's wrong? I have a job!! In today's environment I should just be grateful to have a job. But what's wrong?

A friend responded to my Facebook question: "What is your dream? Never, ever give up reaching for that dream."

Good question. What is my dream? Outside of that really big, little-girl dream of being a famous singer (which btw was quickly laid to rest when as an adult I was told I'm too pitchy - sigh, I'm over it now), I realize I never really was that big of a dreamer. My dreams, goals so to speak, were simple. I knew what I didn't want to do. Watching my parents live paycheck to paycheck in low-paying blue collar jobs while raising five kids, I knew I didn't want to work in a factory. So I took secretarial courses in high school - typing and shorthand (ooo - now I'm showing my age!) - because learning those skills was going to be my ticket into a professional office environment, and I'd get to wear really nice clothes. Once I entered the workforce following graduation, the typewriter quickly evolved to the word processor which quickly evolved to the PC. So I took a couple of college courses to keep pace with the rapidly changing technology.

Everything was fine for a very long time. A few college courses here and there, life skills, on-the-job training, and I was coasting right along. Nine years ago I transitioned out of my role as executive assistant (glorified secretary) to the role of operations manager, where I went from managing the bookkeeping accounting system to managing the client portfolio accounting system. New challenges. New skills. Automation took on a whole new meaning. I get to attend the big software national conference every year that's usually in a pretty cool city I've never been to. Regional meetings in Chicago. Great opportunity for networking among peers. Again, I know what I don't want to do: go back to being a secretary. I absolutely loved my new job.

Believed. Loved. Notice the past tense. Somehow in the past year I went from loving my job to dreading my job. Somehow in the past year I lost passion for what I do. I lost motivation.

I don't know if this is a form of mid-life crisis I'm going through, or if I'm burned out doing the same thing over and over again, or if it's time to move on. So I'm doing the one thing I do know - I'm praying and seeking God's will in this. Whatever I do, needs to be with God's blessing and with Jeff's support because whatever I do will affect him as well. Jeff and I will be praying that God either give me back what I once had for a job that I once loved, or that He will guide me through doors I have yet to see open. Doors of education. Doors of career change. Doors of change. His doors. Not mine. Not man's. But His doors. And I need to accept that there might not be any open doors for me to walk through. That I'm already doing God's will, and what I need to do is have a major attitude adjustment. (Ouch!!)

A couple of verses that Jeff and I have claimed for our marriage are from Proverbs 3:5-6.


"Trust in the Lord with all your heart
and lean not on your own understanding.
In all your ways acknowledge Him,
and He will make your path straight."

In the meantime, I need to do some major repenting of an awful attitude I've had at work, and be like Paul and learn to be content in whatever circumstance. After all, this just might be a mid-life crisis I need to ride out.

Miley Cyrus has a new song, "The Climb" that says,

"I can almost see it -
That dream I'm dreaming,
But there's a voice inside my head saying,
'you'll never reach it.'


Every step I'm taking,
Every move I make feels
Lost with no direction...


...There's always gonna be another mountain,
I'm always gonna wanna make it move.
Always gonna be an uphill battle,
Sometimes I'm gonna have to lose.

Ain't about how fast I get there;
Ain't about what's waiting on the other side.
It's the climb."

God, I know what I don't want, but what do I want? I want your will. But what is it? "I can almost see it, the dream I'm dreaming."

A Room With a View

My most favorite part of this kitchen makeover is that I can finally enjoy the view of the pool! Though it doesn't look like much now, with the pool cover still on and potted floral arrangements not done (it is only April in Michigan), it's still amazing to be able to look out a window I nearly forgot I had. Due to lack of storage space in the previous kitchen, we used a baker's rack and a book shelf for extra storage, which covered the only window with a view of the pool.Jeff took a sink shelf we had and recycled it to make this window sill, which I plan to put potted fresh herbs on. This weekend has been a beautiful weekend getting as high as 90 degrees at one time. With the window open, for the first time since I planted that little garden almost nine years, I can see, smell and enjoy the hyacinths from the inside. Now that I'll be able to enjoy spring flowers from this window, I believe I'll be planting bulbs this fall. I am blessed!

Triple P Layers

After mad kitchen work, crazy must-make-a-living work, planning older sister's 50th birthday celebration, and traveling to the metropolitan city of Hooppole,IL, population 200, to visit my younger sister and her family, I'm finally taking a time out to give an update on the kitchen. In my last kitchen post, "From the Inside Out", the new floor had been laid, the countertop and sink had been installed, and the inside of the cabinets had been painted a pretty shade of light green.

Many more layers have been added since that post. The walls have been painted,the wood trim/molding have been stained and put in place (for the most part), the new microwave oven, dishwasher, stove, and cabinetry have been installed,and groceries and dishes/pots/pans have found their way back home again. (See why the open-cabinet trend would never work for me.)
Along the way I couldn't resist picking up a couple of items that I just had to have to help kick-start the fun part of this whole project - decorating! I found this beautiful wrought iron wine rack/table while passing time at Pier 1. It was 50% off, had many of the colors of our kitchen, and it was the only one like it in the store! How could I not buy it?
Also, in Kewanee, IL, a cute little town about 30 miles from Hooppole, I happened upon an art gallery and picked up this beautiful piece of art. This will eventually find a spot on the craftsman-style shelf unit Jeff will be making. I got to meet the artist, Pat Monroe. Really makes the art come alive for me when I get to spend some time with the person who created it. (Hey, that could be the subject of another blog post.) A shout out for Gallery on Second! If you're ever in Kewanee, IL, be sure to pay a visit to this wonderful little gallery - amazing works of art made by local people in the farming communities surrounding Kewanee.

One of the most time-consuming projects of the kitchen has been making over the existing cabinetry. Since removing the layers of old shelf paper and paint, I have been applying new layers of prime, paint, & polycrylic (Triple P) as follows:

Prime = 2 layers
Paint = 3 layers
Polycrylic = 3 layers

The lower cabinet base is completed, the upper cabinet base is almost completed, the small drawers are completed, and the backs of the cabinet doors are done. Jeff has began adding molding to the fronts, and when this is done, I can continue the Triple P process.

As I think about this Triple P process of adding layers to my existing cabinetry, and the layers that needed to be removed before I could begin this process, I think about who I was when I first accepted Christ 17 years ago. At the age of 29, I had accumulated many layers of worldly behavior, hurt, and pain. I wasn't one of those "changed overnight" people when I became a believer. There were many layers of my old self that had to be removed. Slowly over the years those old layers have been removed, and one layer at a time God began priming me to take on the new layers. I began trading in my worldly behavior (vocabularly, life style, thinking) for more Christ-like behavior. God began revealing the areas of my life where I had hung on to pain, and what it was that caused that pain to begin with. Through Him, I learned to become less selfish. When questioned by his disciples why so many were following Jesus instead of him, John the Baptist replied, "He must become greater; I must become less" (John 3:30). I've learned that when I surrender control over to God, taking the focus off of myself and giving Him full reign of my life, I become a greater person because of what the One greater than me has done.

From the moment I received Jesus Christ, I became a new creation. However, still today I find myself reverting to some of those old layers. The Holy Spirit then leans in with His paint brush ready to prime the way for a new coat of paint. And just as I'm using the Triple P process with my cabinets, layer by layer, God is making me complete. If I had to guess at which layer I am, I'd say that I've got a couple more layers of polycrylic to go before God finishes with me. With one coat of polycrylic, and every day wear and tear, I somehow keep chipping through the layers only to have God come in and touch them up with new layers.

"You make the sunrise, day after day after day
But there's a morning coming, when old things will all pass away
And everyone will see
You make all things new
You make all things new
Come redeem and come transform
Come renew and come restore
You make all things new
You make all things new."
- Steven Curtis Chapman, "All Things New"

"So from now on we regard no one [including myself - emphasis added mine] from a worldly point of view. Though we once regarded Christ in this way, we do so no longer. Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come!"
- 2 Corinthians 16 & 17

Higher, Daddy!

 Last summer my niece Riley, at three years old, discovered how much fun it is when daddy (my brother Mike) brings her up out of the water then throws her in the air as high as he can. When she falls back down into his waiting arms, she screams with delight, "Higher, daddy!" This continues until Mike's fatigued muscles just can't do it anymore.

Standing on the dock with Riley's mom (my sister-in-law Jenny), I'm struck by the complete trust Riley has in her daddy. She knows that every time he tosses her in the air, he's going to be there to catch her when she comes back down. Notice that daddy keeps his eyes fixed on his daughter, and though her outstretched arm slightly covers the direction of her gaze, it appears that she keeps hers fixed on him. Time and time again daddy throws Riley in the air, and every single time he is there to catch her. Riley completely trusts daddy to catch her, and he never fails her.

As I watch this scene unfold before me, I'm further struck by how this is a beautiful picture of how we can trust our Father in Heaven to always be there to catch us when we begin to fall. Psalm 121:3 says, "He will not let your foot slip - He who watches over you will not slumber." There's not any time when He takes His eyes off of us. Whether we are living a life of our own devices or living a life doing the will of our Father, He is there watching us, waiting for us with outstretched arms to catch us when we fall. My brother probably doesn't realize that in his role of father to his daughter that summer afternoon he provided a great example of how much our Father in heaven loves and protects His children. (Mike, if you ever read this, I'm so proud of you!!)

The Aramaic word for "father" is Abba, which is found three times in the new testament (Mark 14:36, Romans 8:15, and Galatians 4:6). Romans 8:15, King James Version, says, "For ye have not received the spirit of bondage again to fear, but ye have received the Spirit of adoption, whereby we cry, 'Abba, Father'." Many Bible scholars believe Abba can be translated to "daddy" or "papa." I'm not a Bible scholar so I'll not try to prove nor disprove this translation, but I will borrow from The Message paraphrased version, which says, "This resurrection life you received from God is not a timid, grave-tending life. It's adventurously expectant, greeting God with a childlike 'What's next, Papa?' God's Spirit touches our spirits and confirms who we really are. We know who he is and we know who we are: Father and his children."

I am a child of God, adopted into His kingdom through the spilled blood of His Son Jesus Christ. Oh, that I may always have the childlike faith and trust displayed by my niece that summer afternoon at Pine Lake, adventurously, fearlessly, and joyfully screaming, "Higher, Daddy, Higher!"

From the Inside Out...

It's been a while since my last post, and many have been asking me when I'll be posting an update on my kitchen. This kitchen has been my life, and though I've been thinking about this post, I've just been too tired to write it. I would rather read other posts or surf the net for ideas or just allow my brain to go into self-cleaning mode.

(Aside: Back in the early 1980s Jerry Van Amerongen, creator of the old single-panel cartoon "The Neighborhood," provided much laughter in the office I worked in at the time. One of my favorites was Cynthia sitting at her desk with this far-off dazed look to her eyes. The caption underneath said, "Cynthia had just gone into the self-cleaning mode." My old boss, the late Russ Leonard, absolutely loved "The Neighborhood" and found this particular cartoon hilarious, especially as it applied to me. So from that point forward, everytime someone was caught staring off into space, we would say they had just gone into self-cleaning mode. Almost 30 years later, this idea of going into self-cleaning mode still applies.)

So it's this mode of self-cleaning that I find myself in more and more these days, which hopefully explains a little as to why I haven't written a post.

In my last update I wrote about being undone. The kitchen cabinets were bare, the layers of previous flooring had been exposed, and we were still in the process of priming every inch of space. A lot has been accomplished since then. The new floor has been laid.... the new countertop & sink have been installed... and the inside of the cabinets have been painted...

The picture of the inside cabinets doesn't do the color justice. Trust me when I say the color is absolutely beautiful. The inside is the only place in the kitchen that you will see this color; I wanted there to be a surprise of color whenever the cabinets were opened. It's so much prettier than the dark brown exposed wood that was once there. I spent a lot of time prepping these inside spaces for the paint color: removing contact paper, sanding, cleaning, and priming the wood surfaces.

During the time I was working on these cabinets, I was studying in my Unleashed God-crazy group about how much more important it is to work on our inside than it is to work on our outside. God said in I Samuel 16:7,

"The Lord does not look at the things man looks at.
Man looks at the outward appearance,
but the Lord looks at the heart."
(NIV)

I thought about this as I was painting the inside of my cabinets. Just as I have spent a good deal of time getting rid of what shouldn't be there so all of the old dirt and grime could be replaced with a beautiful covering of new and fresh paint, God has spent a great deal of time working on what shouldn't be inside of me so all of my old and selfish ways can be replaced with a beautiful covering of new and unselfish ways.

When family and friends walk into our soon-to-be completed kitchen, they will only see the cosmetic dressing that Jeff and I applied to its outward appearance. There will be no window offering a view into the cabinets. These cabinets won't have open shelving with a pretty shade of green as its backdrop. In order to appreciate the inner beauty of our kitchen the physical act of opening a cupboard door needs to take place. Until that happens, the beauty is unknown. It's hidden.

God sees into my heart, into my soul. Nothing can be hidden from Him. He makes this point clear in Jeremiah 23:24 by reminding me that He is everywhere in all the heavens and earth:

"Can anyone hide from me in a secret place?
Am I not everywhere in all heavens and earth?"
(NKJV)

He sees the places that have been cleaned, and He sees the places that are in the cleaning process, and He sees the places that are still in need of a complete cleansing. When I opened the door to my heart to Jesus, I gave Him home-owner rights to begin a new work in me. My heart is no longer mine, but His. It's His home, His dwelling place. I can't hide behind closed doors, cabinet or otherwise. I am completely exposed to Him. And as He continues to take out the old and ugly to be replaced with the new and beautiful, this inner beauty doesn't remain unseen by the world. All that is good and new in me begins to shine through for others to see. No one needs to make that physical act of opening my soul to see my inner beauty. That's already been done by God, spiritually and supernaturally. When I am at my Holy Spirit-led best, God-glorifying inner beauty comes out of me in the songs I sing (Psalm 57:7), in how I treat others (especially those who have mistreated me), in my praises to the Lord, in compassion, in self-control, and in love.

It's my prayer that as I grow in my relationship with Him, the beauty of who I am in Jesus Christ will become evident to all I meet, from the inside out.

Undone

After a long day of sanding, cleaning, testing paint samples, and cleaning some more, I can finally rest. So with a glass of wine nearby, I can reflect on the work done so far in our kitchen makeover. It's been a slow process; Jeff and I both work full time so whatever time and energy we have left over after a long day of work, we give to the kitchen. I confess there's at least three nights that I don't do anything because by the time I get home, it's already after 7:00 or 8:00. At the rate we're going, it could be several weeks, if not months, before we get our kitchen back in order.

A couple of discoveries have been made along the way. First, when Jeff cut off the round end of the countertop, we found what must have been the original floor when this house was built over 80 years ago. Then when he took out the ceramic floor, we saw what I imagine was a stylin'-kind of floor back in the day. Which day we don't know. But I know this, looking at that floor actually made me appreciate the ceramic floor I despised so much. At least that wasn't tough to look at.
Can you imagine a kitchen with that brown linoleum or vinyl? Decreases my appetite just looking at it! The original tile, however, makes me think of a bowl of ice cream with sprinkles on top or confetti cake. Yum!

As hard as this project is, we are having fun along the way. I decided to mix some paint that we had on hand to see if I could come up with a pretty shade of yellow. I didn't. But, I couldn't resist using it to paint on the wall anyway. Not to worry - this wall will eventually be covered with the only new cabinetry we're adding and a backsplash.

As I was looking at the before pictures today, I found myself actually missing that old kitchen, the same kitchen that I have hated since we bought our home. Why do I miss this kitchen? Because it was clean, and the cabinet doors were on, and everything was in it's place. And when I look at that picture compared to the one I took today, it looks so much better! It's done! But is it?

Why are we redoing the kitchen? Oh, yeah- the floors were cracking, the paint was peeling, the drawers are loose. If you double-click on this picture you can see the cracked floors.
Yes, this is why we're redoing the kitchen. Our kitchen was becoming undone.

And isn't it like that with us? We can look like we have it all together: job is good, hair is great, losing weight, working out, looking in the mirror one last time before we leave in the morning, and saying "Done!" it's out the door we go. But then one day you find out you've lost your job; your hair isn't that great anymore, for some you've lost that, too; no matter how much you work out, the weight just keeps hanging on; and a glance in the mirror reveals another wrinkle or gray hair that wasn't there yesterday. And that's just on the outside. If anyone could really see inside of you, they might discover unhealed wounds from a broken marriage or a difficult childhood. They might see tears for the child who doesn't come home. They might see fear and pain brought on by an abusive relationship. They might discover a person who wants nothing more than to be affirmed for who he is, yet doesn't receive it. They might meet the woman who struggles with addiction, hers or a loved one's. They might learn something you've known for a while: you're becoming undone.

I feel like this sometimes. Every now and then those old insecurities or attitudes of mine creep back in, and always when I least expect it. The stress level gets so high that I can't focus on the task at hand. Or my tongue, once again, gets quicker than the brain can tame, and I've offended someone or hurt someone's feelings.

When these times happen, I know that there's a Friend I can turn to. One who not only sees me from the outside, but especially sees and knows me from the inside out. My Friend is the Holy Spirit; He's always here to remind me of who I am in Christ. I have this relationship with the Holy Spirit because of what Christ did for me on the cross a couple of thousand years ago.

When everything had become so undone in the world around Him, at history's darkest moment, Jesus, while nailed to the cross said, "It is finished." Then committing His Spirit to the Father, bowed his head and took His last breath. Jesus did this for me because He loves me. Jesus did this for you because He loves you. All the sin in the world; all the pain, the tears, the wounds can not keep Jesus from doing His holy work in us. When He returned to heaven after His resurrection, He sent to us His Spirit, the Holy Spirit, to live in those who believe in Him as the only hope of salvation. Jesus said, "It is finished," so that in all of the ways we become undone (our choices, sins, other people's choices, death, pain, etc,), He can undo our undoing. I will never get it 100% right here on earth, but as long as I keep striving, I know one day I'll hear Him say, "Well done, daughter of mine." And I'll finally be done.

As for my old kitchen being clean? That's just appearance. Thanks to some heavy-duty scrubbing, scraping, and elbow grease, the "undone" kitchen is cleaner now than it's ever been.

I Skipped Church (or A Great Man Goes Home)

Last Thursday we lost a great man. His name was John. Though he was tiny in stature, he was large in character and in life. John touched many hundreds of lives with his wisdom, his obvious love for the Lord, his hugs, his smile, and the way he made you feel like you were the most important person at that moment while he talked with you. My memories of John began with my involvement in the singles ministry in the late 90s and forward. John and Mary were married mentors to this wonderful group of older single people who loved the Lord. They were invited to and participated in almost every event. And they attended the weddings of those who just happened to fall in love through this ministry, mine and Jeff's being one of them. The past several years most of my encounters with John were in the welcome center just outside of the worship center. He and his beautiful wife Mary, who I aspire to be, could almost always be found standing near the prayer room, ready to welcome any who would come to say "hi" or who needed prayer. And they were almost always one of the last to leave the building.

Little did I know that two Sundays ago would be the last time I saw John. By the time I left the worship center and entered the welcome area, almost everyone had gone home. Except John and Mary. They were slowly making their way to the door to leave. Because I had spent so much time chatting after service, I was in somewhat of a hurry to leave myself. Every time I saw John, I would give him a hug, no matter what. You know, I honestly can't remember if I hugged John that afternoon. I only remember stopping very briefly to say "hi" and "drive careful," but I don't remember hugging them. You see, I was focused on getting myself home.

The next Sunday Jeff and I decided to stay home from church. We had been extremely busy starting our kitchen makeover, and both of us were exhausted and wanted to just take a day of rest. I think we watched Charles Stanley on TV, and really did nothing that day. Oh, I finished reading "The Shack."

Last Sunday as we were sitting in church, I began reading the church bulletin. I went to the "hospitalized" section to see who needed prayer when I noticed John's name printed there not as one who had been hospitalized, but as one who had been admitted to Rose Arbor Hospice Care. My breath caught. I couldn't believe it. John? At Rose Arbor. Only the dying go to Rose Arbor. I pointed this out to Jeff, and spent the rest of the service wondering what happened, why was John dying? I continued praying for John and Mary during the service, but I really wanted church to be over so Jeff and I could go to Rose Arbor and see how he and Mary were doing.

The pastor's message on Sunday was about mercy, taken from Matthew 5:7: "Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy." After concentrating most of his message on what mercy is and what does it mean to be merciful, he then focused on the latter part of this verse, "for they will be shown mercy." He talked about John and Mary, and how they are the best example of people who have selflessly shown and given mercy to so many people their entire lives. He went on to say that now is the time that we needed to return that mercy. Then there it was. In one sentence, Pastor Jeff gave us an update on John's condition. One sentence that not only took my breath away, but filled my heart with a great sorrow and my eyes with tears. He said that last Thursday John exchanged his hospital robe for a robe of eternity.

He died.

The church bulletin is printed each week on Wednesday. John died on Thursday, the day after it was printed therefore the information I read in the bulletin was outdated.

I have to be honest: since yesterday I am experiencing an array of emotions. I'm rejoicing because John has finally met Jesus face-to-face. I know there's a celebration happening in Heaven right now because one of God's greatest has finally come home. I know God has told John, "Well done, good and faithful servant." I'm sad because I won't see his amazing presence in church anymore. I'm sad and a bit angered that I didn't get to say good-bye. I'm quite a bit angered because of all of the people I either met with, spoke to on the phone, emailed, communicated with, not one person mentioned that John had a heart attack. I'm very disappointed in the lack of communication. I feel selfish as I think about how we can get so caught up in our own little lives that we don't think beyond the moment, and we don't share what really needs to be shared. I feel guilty because I skipped church the day it was announced that he had taken ill. Then I get angry with myself for being so disappointed with other people for not telling me about John. I mean it wasn't their responsibility to tell me... was it?

I think of a church email that was blasted out to all those for whom the church has an email address. The email was promoting a date night scheduled for February 20-something. Date night. An all-church email blast about date night. Because this is information that everyone in the church needs. I wonder why this piece of information was so important that it merited an all-church email blast, yet information about the life-threatening illness and subsequent going-home of one of TRC's well-loved and well-known saints didn't merit the same consideration? What criteria is given to determine which piece of information makes it into an all-church email blast?

What about small groups? Jeff and I met with our small group last Saturday night, and no one mentioned anything about John then. Weren't the leaders of small groups given that information to pass on to the members of their small groups? If not, why not? And if our small group leaders knew, why didn't they share?

I have many questions and a whole range of emotions. My questions may never get answered, and I'm working through my emotions. I'm very thankful to God that Jeff and I were in church yesterday, because otherwise we might have missed the opportunity to celebrate John's life this afternoon at a beautiful service in the chapel. I'm constantly reminding myself that this is so not about me. At all. It's all about Him who created me. Him who created John. Him who finally welcomed John home.

As I think about the last couple of days, I'm also thinking about Matthew 5:7 about being merciful. While my emotions are very real, I need to not let that cloud the beauty of John's final homecoming to his Father in Heaven. I need and want to be merciful to myself, to others, and to my church. To let go of the guilt, the disappointment and the anger. To focus on my wonderful memories of John. To remember to continually lift Mary up to the Greatest Comforter of all. To take a deep breath, and let it go. It was I, after all, who skipped church.

I believe I have a picture of John and Mary from our wedding day. When I find that, I'll be sure to add it to this blog. I want any who read this to see the beautiful man and amazing disciple of God named John, who will be missed by hundreds if not thousands of those who he touched while here on earth.

A personal note to John: I expect you to be part of my welcoming committee for my homecoming, and look forward to receiving one more hug from you then. Tell Jesus "hi" for me, will you?