Coming Home for Christmas . . .

(Decided to send out our Christmas greeting via the blog this year, in contrast to copying, printing, stuffing, addressing, stamping and then mailing at the current postage rate times 75.)

I created this post on Thursday night, but still needed to add pictures. I mentioned in the following highlights that my Grandma turned 100 in September. On Friday morning we received a phone call that Grandma passed away peacefully. So, I changed the title this morning from "Merry Christmas from Dennis and Gwen" to "Coming Home for Christmas . . . " A few years ago while visiting Grandma we were talking about having peace with God, leaving this world . . . and Grandma said, "I just want to go home." And she didn't mean back to her home that she left to enter an assisted living facility . . . she meant heaven. So Grandma is "home" for Christmas this year.

Highlights of the Jackson family in 2007:

JAN – A visit to CA to see Mike & Joni, Josh & Kari

FEB – Josh & Kari left on a 7 month traveling adventure throughout Asia and Central America; Dennis & Clint took Dad J. on a trip to England

APRIL – Evee Marie was born to Clint and Jamie on April 24; Gwen graduated with a Bachelors degree from IWU on April 28th




MAY – Dennis & Gwen had the privilege of going to Israel for 2 weeks

JUNE - Dennis took a 101-day Sabbatical through the summer months with Gwen joining him for most of that time (hiking in Glacier, Eastern Europe, and Midwest)

AUG - Julie traveled to Costa Rica to hang out with Josh and Kari for a week



SEPT – Gwen’s Grandma turned 100 years old in September, Gwen, Jamie and Evee made the trip to PA to celebrate with the family; Julie began her first semester at IUPUI and turned 21 years old!

NOV – Dennis celebrated his 50th birthday

DEC – Speaking of "Home for Christmas," everyone, except Mike & Joni :(, will be home for Christmas this year and Dennis & I will be heading "home" to PA to celebrate Grandma's homecoming on the 29th.

What's everybody doing these days?
Josh & Kari – living in Pasadena, Josh owns an ebay business and Kari is a waitress at a local restaurant
Clint, Jamie & Evee – living in Indianapolis, Clint still a Youth Pastor at Eagle Church, Jamie chose to stay home with Evee
Mike & Joni – living in San Diego – Mike is a student at Point Loma, Joni is a hair stylist
Julie- living in Indianapolis, student at IUPUI (Ind./Purdue Univ.)
Dennis & Gwen – still live in Spring Lake ministering at SLWC, love being grandparents to Evee!

MAY YOUR CHRISTMAS BE MERRY & BRIGHT

WITH THE LOVE OF JESUS

AND MAY 2008 BE A YEAR OF JOY AND PEACE

Late night thinking . . .

It was midnight. We had just settled into bed for the night. Quick goodnight kiss, “love you,” and with that Dennis curled up on his side for a long winter’s nap. Me? I laid flat on my back in thinking mode.

“Honey, what brings you joy?”

“What?” He loves when I ask him questions right before he goes to sleep.

“What brings you joy?”

“Sunrises, sunsets, Evee, changed lives.”

“Changed lives? You mean watching peoples lives changed by God?”

Muffled as it was, I caught the “yea” as he drifted off to sleep. I was happy to get that much out of him.

I lay there for a few minutes thinking about what brought me joy.

Of course, Dennis
My kids
Evee, too
Good friends
Sunshine
Walks on the beach (where I love to pray)
Me too, for changed lives
And I'll throw this one in, comments on my blog (for real)

Joy.

What brings you joy?

Birth Announcements . . .

I’ve been anticipating and watching for the news of two births this month. They both arrived this weekend. Little Kalyn Emily (picture on left) arrived at 2:54 a.m. this past Saturday in Harrisburg, PA, my niece Mindy and her husband Erik’s first. Then, just minutes ago (3 a.m.) I read the news of Samuel James born at 12:44 a.m. this morning to our friends, John and Mandy in Princeton, NJ. I was so excited and rejoiced with both these new little families.

Doesn’t everyone love to hear the news of a baby’s birth?

I was thinking about the news of Jesus’ birth. Mary and Joseph didn’t have internet, which is how I learned of both of the above births, pictures and all. Nor did they have postal service or pony express, as far as that goes.

So God had his own plan to get the news out.

He sent one of his instant messengers – an angel – to some shepherds on the night shift crew. “I bring you good news of great joy for everyone!” the angel announced. “The Savior – yes, the Messiah, the Lord – has been born tonight in Bethlehem . . ." Talk about a unique birth announcement! Then, kind of like “forwarding” messages in our inbox, which I did when I heard the news of Kalyn and Samuel, the bewildered, but excited shepherds ran to the village to see the baby and then proceeded to tell everyone what had happened.

Oh, the joy of birth announcements. But, this one was different. Luke wrote that this news would be the greatest joy to many. "Unto us a child is born . . . " Not just any child, Jesus, the Christ, the Messiah, Immanuel - God with us - you, me, the whole world.

Joy to the World!

Speaking of Hope and Peace . . .

Our little Evee . . .
no wonder God came into the world as a baby!

Peace . . .

Yesterday at church we lit the candle of "peace" as we continue to celebrate advent, the coming of a Savior. The advent season has had special meaning for me this year. The simple, yet complete words like "hope" and "peace" remind me of why Jesus came.

I was thinking about a song written by one of Dennis' and my favorite pianists, Jim Brickman. You probably hear his music as you shop in stores at this time of year. Below are the lyrics to one of his songs called "Peace."

On a city street somewhere someone shoots a gun in the midnight air, and I don’t know why.

Somebody lives, somebody dies, somebody wrongs, and a mother cries, and I don’t know why.

Some things we’ll never understand. Other things you change if you can.

Peace – you find it where the heart is. The heart is right where love lives. Love can always find a way. Hope is the something that reminds us, it’s not too late to find us. One day we may be in peace.

Haven’t spoken in 30 years after angry words and bitter tears, and I don’t know why.

Best of brothers and best of friends, one mistake and their story ends, and I don’t know why.

Some things we’ll never understand, Other things you change if you can.

Peace – you find it where the heart is. The heart is right where love lives. Love can always find a way. Hope is the something that reminds us, it’s not too late to find us. One day we may be in peace.

It’s all about forgiveness, with God as my witness, I want to live to see . . . peace.

Some things we can change . . .

Is Mrs. Jackson coming today?

This is Leah. She's my little Kids Hope girl who I visit every week for an hour at her school (or a bit longer cause we have so much fun doing things together). Our church has 50 Kids Hope mentors who meet one on one with children from Jeffers School - children who will benefit from a one-on-one relationship that invests in their lives emotionally, socially and academically.

Her teacher, Mrs. Mumby, told me when I was only three weeks into my visits, that Leah asks every Tuesday morning, "Is Mrs. Jackson coming today?" It brought tears to my eyes that my one hour a week in a very short amount of time was making such a difference in this little first graders life.

I look forward to seeing Leah every week - we color, read books, work on her math, play games and just chat. Leah is a very special girl. What a joy to bring hope to her life.

Hope for the world . . .

I've thought a lot about "hope" since I posted my last blog entry just a few days ago. I took time tonight to look through mail after a few days away visiting family in Indy. One newsletter reports of orphaned children in Nigeria whose parents were murdered in the midst of religious conflicts. A Christian agency provides food, shelter and education at a center where they live and study. The director of the center says, "There can always be hope, even in seemingly hopeless situations."

Then on a website today I read of a village in Zambia where a Christian organization purchased a well drilling rig to provide the people with healthy and accessible water. A pastor touched the water that gushed up out of the earth and said, "This is Resurrection day - we have been resurrected to hope when we had none."

Jesus . . . a father to the fatherless.

Jesus . . . living water.

Jesus came to bring hope to the world.

Hope . . .

I have the privilege of teaching the 3rd and 4th grade children's church at my church. I love to teach, but most of all I love the kids. They are so fun and full of creative energy, wonder and questions. This past Sunday marked the first week of the advent season. Alex lit the candle of hope and Emma read the scripture passage from Isaiah 9:6 . . . "For unto us a child is born, a son is given . . . and he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace."

We had just finished a unit that covered key people and events in the Old Testament. These kids understood the meaning of hope - they understood how much the Israelites needed the hope of a redeemer. We wondered together if we could ever mess up so badly that God would say he was done with us or wouldn't love us anymore. The Israelites had certainly had their share of goofing up. Before the answer came out of my mouth, the kids were nodding their heads to say "no." They understood that God is real, that he loves them, and that God sent Jesus to bring hope to the world. Hope to Alex and Emma and Seth and Nolan and Mia and Katelyn and David and Andrew and Mason and Elizabeth . . . hope to me.

Sometimes in life we need someone to lend us hope. Someone did that for me last week. Someone who drew me into the presence of God. Someone who spoke words of love, value and life into my heart. I needed that. Someone who had a certainty that God is, that he is a God of truth, a God of hope. As funny as it might seem coming from a pastor's wife, I needed that. The heart of the problem was my heart - it hasn't been all God's - it's been divided. So, I got down on my knees and told God that I wanted him to have all of my heart. I asked him to make himself "at home" in my heart again.

My heart was made to be "at home" with God. Trying to fill it with something or someone else, or trying to search for something outside of his truth, will always keep me searching. The search and the answers are only found in him and when I get that, I don't need to search anymore, only seek. Every heart needs a home and it's never truly "home" unless God lives there. So, I'm done with the divided heart thing. It's all his. A fresh joy and peace fill my heart - how good to be all his - a renewed hope.

Today is Thanksgiving . . .

I liked what Julie said today. She said, "I like Thanksgiving because it makes us realize how much we have to be thankful for." So true . . . we take so much for granted in the ordinary days of life. Mostly people we love and spend the greater part of life with in some degree or another. Do you ever notice that most people are thankful for people? People matter. That's why grace and forgiveness and "I'm sorry" and love and commitment and "I love you" and "I believe in you" and "I'm proud of you" and laughter and hugs matter in this world. Because they all have to do with the blessing of meaningful relationships.

So, today I am thankful for the special people in my life . . . Julie is one of them!

On a more serious note . . .

We all know Thanksgiving is so much more than turkey's.

On this eve of Thanksgiving, I am most thankful for:

• the gift of family
• the gift of friendship
• the gift of health
• the gift of life itself
• the gift of God's love and grace to me in Jesus

Blessing Thanksgiving!

A Sun Lover's Thanksgiving . . .

I love the sunshine, so this recipe does it for me during the sometimes dreary gray days of winter in Michigan. As my own tan lines fade, it's nice to know that some still get the sun (even if it's in the oven). Here's a new way to prepare your Thanksgiving Turkey, especially for you sun lover's out there.

1. Cut out aluminum foil in desired shapes.
2. Arrange the turkey in the roasting pan, position the foil carefully.
(see attached picture for details)
3. Roast according to your own recipe and serve.
4. Enjoy a sun lover's Thanksgiving . . .

Happy Thanksgiving
to all who read my blog
out there somewhere!

Retraining my Brain Waves . . .

During my elementary years, particularly 3rd through 5th, my teachers seriously impacted how I viewed myself. For years I struggled with feelings of inadequacy with the deep-seated lie that I was actually dumb and stupid. Over the years through God’s grace I have found healing and restoration from a destroyed self-esteem. But there was one more piece to the puzzle – something I hadn’t considered – how those childhood years affected my ability to learn.

You see, I love to learn, but reading a book meant going back to read what I had just read, conversation with a friend meant asking questions that had already been answered, listening to a lecture found me leaving class with my head spinning, studying for an exam meant many laborious hours. The question wasn’t how long I stuck with something, because I was diligent to persevere through whatever. The question was how much I absorbed and retained from that book, conversation, lecture, or review.

It all came about while I was working on finishing a college degree last year. Studying for an exam or writing a paper triggered the same panic and anxiousness I had struggled with throughout all my school years. Brad Oostindie, a pediataric psychologist in my church, introduced me to the idea of retraining my brain waves. I had no idea what that meant, but I was willing to give it a try. After my initial testing to see how my brain waves were working during focus, it was discovered that my brain would work really hard to focus (at an anxiety level), but then give up and jump over to a zoned out state even while I tried to remain focused. I couldn’t believe how well Brad’s description fit what I experienced every time I read a book, studied for an exam, etc. No wonder I was having trouble - jumping from anxiety to zoned out - a pattern, Brad says, that I probably developed as a grade schooler. I just always thought that was how it worked for me. I always figured I had some sort of learning disability that I would never be able to overcome, of course, proving my teachers correct.

After 32 half-hour sessions of neurofeedback*, the therapy Brad’s practice, Ready to Focus, provides, I have retrained my brain waves to function at the healthy ideal levels my brain was made to function all along. Experientially, I could tell I was improving, but the real clincher was when I saw the before and after graphs that showed my improvement.

I am both amazed and grateful that God would bring healing down to the very core of my brain waves - my God-given cognitive potential. My brain waves are fixed and I am a bona fide student and learner without the panic and anxiety I experienced for so many years!

*Neurofeedback is also helping ADHD children, some even to the point of getting off medication. It is a noninvasive procedure of attaching three electrodes to the scalp and each ear lobe to measure brain activity while in focus. Check out the links above to learn more.

Single and Satisfied . . .

Single focused that is . . . had you wondering there for a second, didn't I? I only wish I could be the Type A, multi-tasking, juggling 10 plates at a time kind of woman, but this I am not. Is there such a thing as single-tasking?

Vince Posente writes in his book, The Age of Speed (click to read Tony Morgan's review), "By juggling too many tasks or allowing too many distractions, you condition your brain to stay overstimulated, weakening your ability to concentrate."

Hmm, maybe that overwhelming feeling I get when I've got too much on my plate is called over-stimulation. It effectively paralyzes me.

He also writes, "More options lead to more stress--whether we choose to pursue them or not. When we have a lot of options and many decisions to make, our destinies become less clear."

This explains why I say, Give me one thing to do and I'll give it my best. The one thing, of course, is what I do best - my gifts, strengths, and talents working in harmony to do one thing well.

I no longer wish I could be the multi-tasking queen. I’m perfectly satisfied being single-focused . . . that’s the way God made me and that’s the way I function best. It’s a lot less stressful!

What about you? Multi- or single-tasked?

Family & Friends . . .

It was good to have some hustle and bustle back in the house again this past weekend. I miss that. Jamie and Evee came to visit along with dear family friends, Regina and Michelle. It was our first time to have Evee over a Sunday, so showing her off at church was fun. Regina is back from a year of mission work in Bosnia, moving on to new adventures in life. Michelle is home to raise support as a career missionary, returning to the Asian country where she has been serving. Below are pictures of our time together.

Speed scrabble, chats in the living room, coffee at Starbucks, early breakfast at Morning Star, walks on the pier, keeping up with the World Series, and just hanging out made up the weekend fun.

Up bright and early for breakfast
at our favorite place in town.

Keeping warm in the Michigan fall weather.

Michelle and Regina

Evee got in on all the girl stuff.

Papa and Evee watching the Red Sox
make a clean sweep over the Rockies.

Sadly, the house is too quiet again, but Thanksgiving is just around the corner.

Love your neighbor . . .

Today I learned about the oppression in the country of Burma through World Hope's website. For those of you who may not be familiar with the country of Burma, presently known as Myanmar, it is bordered by India, China and Thailand.

In a nutshell, this is what is happening: Burma is ruled by one of the worst military dictatorships in the world. Last month Buddhist monks and nuns began marching and chanting prayers to call for democracy. The protests spread and hundreds of thousands of Burmese people joined in -- but they've been brutally attacked by the military regime.

World Hope encourages us to be a part of bringing peace, justice and freedom to these oppressed people with the following: "Burma's powerful sponsor China can halt the crackdown if it believes that its international reputation and the 2008 Olympics in Beijing depend on it. To convince the Chinese government and other key countries to intervene, Avaaz (The World in Action) is launching a major global and Asian ad campaign including full page ads in the Financial Times and other newspapers to deliver its message. Avaaz needs 1 million voices to be the global roar that will get China's attention."

I was number 789,508 on the way to a million. Click here to sign the petition to help alleviate suffering in Burma. The petition will be advertised in a massive ad campaign all this week, delivered by a Nobel Prize winner to UN Secretary General Ban Ki Moon, and broadcast into Burma over the radio. Let's not let something like Rwanda happen again.

It's a small act for a world dilemma, but wouldn't you want someone to do it for you?

Love your neighbor . . . as yourself.

Great Deeds or Great Love?

One of the things I said to Dennis while we were on his summer sabbatical was this: I'm going to stop saying I'm going to do great things for God. As we were enjoying the cool waters of the Adriatic Sea one hot afternoon, we were talking about the "what's next" for our lives. He knew what his hopes were for the sabbatical - personal renewal and ministry refocus - but now he was asking about me. We had a laugh about my statement, but seriously . . . I've used this line since I was a teenager and now in my 50's I'm well aware of the fact that I haven't done anything that might be considered "great for God."

This past Saturday our church held a D.R.A.F.T. (Developing Real Action for the Tri-cities) conference where I heard this Mother Theresa quote: There are no great deeds, only small deeds done in great love.

I like this thought - it resonates with my heart. While the first (my line) is a noble cause, the second is simple, yet profound. One's about me, the other about God. This will be my heartbeat for the latter half of life. Not great deeds, but great love. I have much to learn about this great love.

Oh God, may my faith be transmitted to

others out of a heart of love.

Note to 20-somethings . . .

Okay, I’m soon to be 52. I don’t run like I use to. In fact, a year ago I stopped running because my joints were aching too much. I’ve slowed down to a jog or a fast walk. On the other hand, my 21-year old daughter Julie is a fast runner, especially after four years of cross-country in high school where her team made it to state each year. I might have been able to beat her in my 20’s when I could run a six-minute mile, but not now.

I can’t keep up with you 20-somethings, but I’ll keep on the journey of this cross-era in history. I’ll get there, but not as fast as you will. I’ve got 50 years of tradition and theology to think through. You only have 20 or so. Don’t expect me to catch on as fast. I’ll keep learning and discovering, but it’s just simply going to take me longer. Not because I’m resisting it, but simply because I’m older. Be patient with me (and other boomers). I’m eager to learn, but the fact is . . . I may never catch up. There’s a good chance that I will finish this cross-era journey of life before the phase of post-modernism is even fully developed, while you’re still on the journey discovering it yourself.

Please don’t disqualify me, like my traditions and theology don’t matter anymore. I certainly don’t want to get stuck in the past. I admit there are some shortcomings to Western Christianity, but I’d like to pass the baton of positive things in modern Christianity that would be valuable to the next generation. Moving forward doesn’t cancel out the past, but it does broaden the horizon as two eras integrate into a new future.

So, be patient with me. I'll try not to get defeated or bothered that you are out in front of me. It might be helpful if every once in a while you turn around and cheer me on. And I'll do my best to cheer you on. Better yet, let’s hook up and just talk about our faith from time to time. I’ll walk with you and you can walk with me. I know we can learn from each other as we share in a posture of respect. I want to have an attitude of humility that follows Jesus whatever era I am in.

Someday 20 or 30 years down the road, you’ll find you’re one of the slower ones. You’ll see the young bucks up ahead. Hopefully you’ll be cheering them on while you're at the back of the pack. Hopefully you'll take the time to walk with them on their journey, learning from each other. We’re all in this together.

The Span of 100 years . . .

As I told you in the last post, I went home this past weekend to PA to visit family and celebrate my Grandma's 100th birthday. Here's a couple pics from our time.

Grandma at 100


Five Generations


Great Great Grandma & Evee . . . 100 years apart

Talk about change . . . 1907 looks a lot different from 2007! I wonder what kind of changes Evee will see??

100 Years of life

My Grandma turns 100 years old next week - born on Sept. 24, 1907. Amazing, isn’t it?

I’m going home to PA next week to see her and to celebrate her with my family. She has continued to be spry and active in her old age. Only in the last year a walker has given aid to balance and the loss of sight in one eye has ended her years of countless hand-stitched quilts. Not bad for 99!

My Grandma began to write her life story after recovering from a heart attack in the 60’s. She stopped writing for several years “thinking I may hurt some folks feelings who had been kind to me,” but going on to say “I always tried to finish everything I started, if at all possible,” and so she finished her story in recent years.

She writes of the typhoid fever epidemic that took her grandfather, a grandfather who was a bugler in the Civil War and later taken prisoner in the south, a grandmother who practiced midwifery in the South Mountains of Pennsylvania. In detail she describes her life as it was growing up with a mother with severe rheumatoid arthritis and a father who died at a young age from an injury while working for the government building post offices.

In January of 1918 Grandma and her siblings were placed in an orphanage and so she dedicates her “book” to “all those who have been suddenly thrust out into the world without a home, to fend for themselves.”

I get to take my new little granddaughter, Evee, with me (Jamie, too) and we’ll get a picture of five generations that span 100 years. Pretty amazing!

Life As It Is ... then and now

It was in the late 60's and into the early 70’s that I was not only sorting through the Vietnam War, the Kent State shootings, and later the Watergate crisis, but racism, the free-spirited hippie movement, flower power, miniskirts, end time predictions (my senior year was to be the end of the world), UFO’s (unidentified flying objects often thought to be aliens from another planet, I was sure I saw one), LSD (and other hallucinogenic drugs, which I did not experiment with), among other things. The familiar peace symbol became a sign of the times as protesters called out, “make love, not war.”

At the same time, the Jesus movement was in motion. In 1972 as a 16-year-old I joined 80,000 (85% HS and college age) in Dallas, TX where we sat in the Cotton Bowl stadium night after night encouraged by Billy Graham and Bill Bright to give our lives wholly to God and to be filled with the Spirit. Explo ’72, a Campus Crusade event, literally exploded with enthusiastic young believers that Graham hoped would be “a prelude to a mighty worldwide movement of God’s Spirit upon the hearts of men.”* The predominant symbol was the pointed finger of “one-way, Jesus.” Door-to-door across Dallas, the “Four Spiritual Laws” were shared and people actually responded to the fact that God had a wonderful plan for their lives (the idea behind this: just as there are physical laws that govern the universe, there are spiritual laws that govern our relationship with God). The week long explosion ended with 180,000 attending a 9-hour gospel rock festival where I drank Dr. Pepper and let the ice cubes melt on my legs under the blazing Texas sun as I listened to rock singers like Randy Matthews and Larry Norman sing lyrics like: “Wish we’d all been ready . . . there's no time to change your mind, the Son has come and you've been left behind.”

All these things made sense in my life.

I didn’t know that by the time I was 50 I would be encountering the beginning of what we call postmodernism. I probably didn’t realize I grew up in modernity! I just lived life the way I knew it to be according to where I was geographically located, my family upbringing, my faith, my church, my experiences; all affected by the culture in which I lived.

But something is different today . . . we’re in a cultural and philosophical shift that has not yet taken shape - something like Jesus entering the Jewish world filled with laws and traditions or Martin Luther issuing his 95 theses. It’s an interesting time to live. The beginning of a new era is usually a difficult one, but I’m willing to enter the fray and join efforts to discover the integration of two eras that I hope give new opportunities for the “good news” of Jesus Christ to be proclaimed and demonstrated to coming generations. It may not look like what I’ve known it to be and I’ll be asking a lot of questions along the way, but I’m sure God in His infinite wisdom has a handle on it all.

*Life Magazine, June 1972

Change. Minor Inconveniences . . .

Some changes are life altering, like a massive wave washing over us, leaving us gasping for air and wondering what happened. Or, change can be like a stone skipping across the surface of the water, making a few ripples, then returning to normal.

We probably experience ripple effects every day of our lives. Like when I’m in the middle of a recipe only to realize that I’m missing an ingredient; putting everything on hold while I run to the store is a minor inconvenience. Or like the morning we received the phone call informing us that our evening departure for the Lake Express ferry was canceled, but not to worry, they would provide us with ground travel. The five-hour shuttle bus got us home three hours later than planned. A bumpy ride, yacky people and a late night might have been annoying and a bother, but it didn’t mess up life forever.

I'm curious . . . what things in life cause the ripple effect for you?

The first of a series of posts on change . . .

I love that I grew up a country girl. The wide-open spaces of the outdoors still exhilarate me. About once a year I go home to eastern Pennsylvania where my entire family still lives. A walk along the country road, passing the farm and neighboring farmlands, immediately transports me back to my childhood.

There’s the big hill where I wiped out on my bike because I didn’t think I was going to stop before I reached the highway that rolls past our farm. Maybe the brakes didn’t work. I just remember intentionally falling off my bike while in motion. What was I thinking!?

Heading towards the bridge where we would catch the bus, I pass the field that made a perfect sledding run. On a cold winter evening my brothers and I decided to sled by the light of the moon. Positioning myself belly down on my wooden sled sent me flying down the hill only to find that the runway we had made earlier in the day had turned to ice in the night air. That frozen snow sent me right through the barbed wire fence at the end of the field. I came home from the doctor’s office with 51 stitches in my face. Not the cosmetic makeover a 7th grade girl was looking for.

The bus stop by the bridge . . . well, Mom would stand at the living room window to watch for the bus at the neighboring farm and call out loud and clear, “Bus!” and we would take off out the door, through the front yard, out the gate, running the quarter mile to the bridge with book bags over our shoulder, breathless as we stepped up on the bus. How many times did that bus driver have to wait on us I’ll never know?

Then there’s the cornfield along the way to the bus stop where I wanted to run and hide on a school day because I didn’t like my 5th grade teacher (she didn’t like me, which was the problem). Never had the guts to do it.

There’s the barn where I fed veal calves for 4-H and the pasture on the other side of the road where I would stand with pitch fork in hand when it was time to help put the cattle out to pasture. I never enjoyed this job – I was deathly afraid that one of those steers would come running towards me with head down ready to buck me to my death. A watering trough where fresh spring water flows proved a great spot for a summer lemonade stand for the very occasional passersby.

A few years ago I went beyond the road following the creek to a spot that I fondly remember. I recall spring days when wild daffodils popped up in bouquets along the little stream that flowed into the creek. I’d find a rock to sit on and do my childhood daydreaming. But, now I could barely find, much less hear, the gurgling brook. Brush and brier had taken over this little piece of country paradise. It wasn’t the same anymore. Forty years of time had changed the scenery. I had envisioned it in my mind as it used to be, but the reality of change was obvious.

Change happens and there’s no getting around it. Sometimes change takes me by surprise. Sometimes it's a subtle change, gradually making its mark over time. The closer I got (not get) to 50, change seemed to shift to overdrive. I knew it was coming, but why did it take me by surprise? The family dynamics began to change. Kids started leaving home. The house got quieter. Kids were getting married. Now we have a grand-baby. It's all settling in now, but there for awhile I needed time to catch up. Beyond that, my body is changing. That dimpling thing on the upper legs started. Extra fat cells begin to accumulate for no apparent reason around the waist, butt and hips. Gray, course hair that has a mind of its own makes its appearance. Change. It's inevitable!

Change . . . the need to adjust, adapt, amend, in order to refashion, redesign, revamp . . . in others words, sometimes life needs tweaking.

Grief, Forgiveness, Generosity . . .

Henri Nouwen identifies these three traits as belonging to the father in the story of the prodigal son. Mesmerized by Rembrandt's painting of the return of the prodigal, Nouwen writes a challenging portrayal of this story from Luke 15 in his book, The Return of the Prodigal Son.

With focus often given to the rebellious son who left home and family with his early inheritance, Nouwen challenges us to take a closer look at the elder son who stayed home. Truth be told, a judgmental and disgruntled attitude may describe more of us than outright rebellion (much like the Pharisees of Jesus' time and to whom he is telling the story).

Nouwen asks us to take an even closer look at the father. This, he says, is who we all should desire to become. The father grieves over sin, saddened when we miss the mark of what His Kingdom should look like. Yet, he graciously extends forgiveness, and on top of that is generous beyond comprehension.

The first time I heard a message on the elder son, I realized that I'm most like him, which was just as wrong as the younger son, if not worse! Until I read Nouwen's book, I never thought of becoming like the father. If all I see is that people sin and God forgives (which is true), but fail to miss the challenge of becoming like the father, then I have missed the crux of the story.

What a different world it would be if we became more like the father – traits that move us beyond ourselves.

Allowing my own sin and that of the world (injustice, abuse, misuse, exploitation, greed) to pierce my heart in such a way that I’m willing to do something about it, to make it right.

Stepping over pride, fear, and anger to extend forgiveness without condemnation, with no strings attached.

Choosing to freely give in love – a generous love that offers hope.

Nouwen writes, “This is not the picture of a remarkable father. This is the portrayal of God, whose goodness, love, forgiveness, care, joy, and compassion have no limits at all.”

I found my vocation . . .

While at Rosy Mound Nature area the other day I was sipping my iced caramel macchiato while journaling at one of the picnic tables by the parking area. I overheard a couple gals who had driven in from Grand Rapids trying to figure out the parking fee box where $5. will spit out a daily pass to be displayed on the car dash to escape the $39. infraction fee. It wouldn't take a credit or debit card and the girls only had a ten dollar bill, which would issue them a pass along with 20 quarters in change.

I knew I recently had received some one dollar bills in change, so I walked over to the girls to see if I could be of help. I offered five of my six ones which they accepted with thanks and without further ado the fee box issued a ticket and they were on their way to the beach.

Another lady approached about the same time with only a ten. She and her friend scrounged up four ones and I exchanged my last dollar for quarters which sent them happily on there way. A mom and two sons walked up at that point and I assisted them with the use of the machine.

I went back to my journaling when the mom walked by stopping to thank me for the help. Then I heard the two ladies as they were walking pass the box heading out to the trail say to another visitor, "Do you need any help with that? Someone helped us, so we thought we would ask."

Later when I was finding my spot to sit on the beach, I passed the young gals from Grand Rapids. We exchanged a friendly hello and words to enjoy the perfect day. Later the ladies walked by me, giving me a smile and a wave with a "hello again."

It struck me how kindness multiplies itself once given - how easily it is reciprocated. I may be out five dollars, but the spirit of kindness was well worth it. It was a little thing, but it seemed to go a long way with smiles and friendliness.

(Maybe it's a sign for the "what's next?" in my life - "fee box attendant" OR maybe it's a cue that the township should make the fee box a bit more user friendly :)

It's good to be back home . . .

Home, bed, shower were a welcome sight when we arrived in Spring Lake last Friday after 5 weeks out of the country. Home for a couple weeks before we head out again (not so far away this time).

I love where I live. Although the Adriatic Sea was beautiful off the shores of Croatia there's nothing like the sandy beaches of West Michigan (which I recently heard is the softest sand around). I can get a "mini vacation" at the beach anytime just minutes away from our home. (Now if we could just keep the EColi levels down for safe swimming it might bring the tourists back who come on the recommendation that Grand Haven is one of the top 10 family vacation spots in the country. You would think with the Eco focus these days someone would make this dilemma right. Sorry, had to vent my frustrations with that.)

I went out to Rosy Mound Natural Area on Tuesday. If your willing to take the .7 mile hike to the beach, it proves to be a quiet, more isolated place to soak in sun, read a book, walk the beach and just relax. The hike itself is picturesque as you walk through wooded dunes (plus good exercise with it's over 400 steps). Close to the end of the trail is a beautiful overlook that takes in the foredunes below and Lake Michigan beyond.

In Stari Grad we totally missed sunsets due to the location of the town on the island. Dennis and I saw a beautiful sunset right off our own Grand Haven pier when we walked out to the lighthouse Sunday night.

I love where I live . . . I love my friends, my neighborhood, my community, and my church (looking forward to seeing everyone in Sept.). It's good to be back home - a place to belong, a place of familiarity, a place to settle in, a place to call home. I love where I live!

In between . . . Evee time (again)!

After a month of spending time in Slovakia, Bosnia, and Croatia, we were ready to get back to life in the states. We spent a few days in Indy with the family (plus Clint's brother Dean visiting from AU). We got in on Dean's 22nd birthday . . .



Evee has grown and gives us lots of smiles and coos. Here's some recent pics of her.

Evee can't take it without Grandma



Content in Grandma's arms

Now, onto the 3rd block of Dennis' sabbatical . . .

My Thoughts, too . . .

Since Dennis recently gave the lowdown on his daily routine here on the island of Hvar, I thought I might as well join him with my own (check out his blog for his list).

• I sleep up to 9 – 10 hrs/night – about 10 min. more than I get back home.
• Every morning (well, late morning) I enjoy the warm breeze on the terrace just outside our room while eating yogurt with peaches and bananas.
• I journal, not always daily, but when I do, it ends up being several pages.
• Taking communion together daily is a new thing for us – a brief time of remembrance that I’m sure has impacted our marriage more than we realize.
• I get sun daily. I don’t think I’ve had this much consistent sun in my life – 14 days straight of purely sunshiny days – no rain, hardly a cloud, with a breeze. Whether on the beach, on a scooter, taking a walk, your skin soaks in the rays. Expect us glowing when we return. (Dennis doesn’t mind these beaches so much – no sand.)
• Three different days we rented a scooter which has been crazy fun riding all over the island.
• I’ve read 7 books since my April graduation – 4 of these since we left for Europe. I’d recommend all of them as great books. Reading is a sacred pathway for me – I learn about God, I learn about myself, I learn about life, history and others, and hopefully my learning makes a difference in how I view the world. If interested, check out the book list below.
• I eat ice cream everyday (this is very unusual for me – I’m normally not a big ice cream eater, but there’s something about this ice cream that keeps me coming back for more). But, I don’t get as many dips as Dennis. The pounds I hoped to lose . . . well . . . maybe the 2- 4 mile daily walks will help.
• I let Dennis cook our meals (something we started as empty nesters) and I do the clean up, which I’d rather do than cook.
• I tell God everyday that I trust Him – a simple prayer, but of great significance.
• Every night we prop the bed pillows up (wait, what were you thinking?) and watch a movie on the laptop at the foot end of our bed. Dennis brought all action movies, except for Sleepless in Seattle. You would think a guy for romance would know better, but then this sunny island has plenty of atmosphere to keep the romance flowing.
  
  The Testament – John Grisham
  Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close – Jonathan Safran Foer
  The Source – James Michener (beware, this novel is just under a 1,000 pgs long)
  The Ultimate Blessing – JoAnne Lyon
  The Return of the Prodigal Son – Henri Nouwen
  Contrarian’s Guide to Knowing God (Spirituality for the Rest of Us) – Larry Osborne
  A Generous Orthodoxy – Brian McLaren

I love my Keens!

Many of you have heard me say this, but I can't help it. I really do love the versatility they give me. I bought them 2 years ago for a trip to China, in fact the only pair of "shoes" I took with me on that trip and I've never had sore feet, blisters or lost any toe nails (unlike my hiking shoes).

Now I wear them for just about everything - they were great for hiking in Glacier (through creeks, snow patches, etc.), they are great for swimming here in the Adriatic Sea with its rocky bottom, comfortable to walk in or ride a scooter - just great all-around shoes.

Have I told you how much I love my Keens?

Israel.finalpost - Religion Collision

Islam, Judaism, Christianity – they all seem to bump into each other in Jerusalem. You can pass a synagogue, a mosque and a church all within one city block. Each has their own quarter with shops and eateries within the Old Jerusalem walls. The wall was re-constructed by the Muslims 500 years ago. Massive stone arched gates lead into various sections of the walled city. All except for one that is.

The Eastern gate was built, but there's no way anyone is getting through. It is totally sealed off with blocked stone where it is believed the Messiah will return on the Day of Judgment. Muslim graves line the hillside along the Eastern gate and wall. Devout Jews would never walk among the dead. The Muslim mosque stands over the site of the original Jewish temple where it is believed that Muhammad left his footprint before ascending into heaven. For Muslims, this is the place of the final judgment where they believe Jesus will return declaring, “The only God is Allah, and his prophet is Muhammad.”

A Jerusalem Muslim gave a revealing picture of that final day. He said the Day of Judgment will be like a tight rope stretched from the Mount of Olives to the mosque and good works will determine if one can make it to the other side.

Crossing the Kidron Valley, adjacent to the Eastern Wall are thousands of Jewish graves where $25,000 will buy a grave site. Why? Because the Jews believe that the final judgment will take place in the Kidron Valley and to be as close as possible is better than having your soul roll through underground caverns to this significant spot. They continue to look for a redeemer, a Messiah. Devout Jews continue to live by the law. Our hotel had a specific elevator arranged for use on the Sabbath so no buttons would have to be pushed to get to a particular floor.

Not far away is Golgotha where a significant judgment took place 2,000 years ago. Beyond that is a tomb chiseled from the rocky hillside where once laid the Savior of the world. The judgment of the world laid upon Jesus, Son of God, in order that all peoples could be redeemed from the mark of sin on mankind. Jesus’ final earthly words said it all: “It is finished.” God’s grace. It’s about forgiveness. It’s ultimately about love.

Ironically, while singing Amazing Grace by the empty tomb the Muslim call to prayer rang out over nearby intercoms, while the Jews sang through the streets celebrating 60 years of nationhood.

"Thus the people were divided because of Jesus." John 7:43


(Dennis and I at the Mount of Olives with the Kidron Valley and the Old Jerusalem wall in the background. The gold dome-shaped mosque can be seen within the wall as well as the burial grounds just outside the wall.)

This is my final post on Israel. Thanks for letting me share those things that were close to my heart as we encountered this land.

Check out Dennis' Sabbatical Journey on my side links for an update on our Europe trip so far.

In between . . . Evee time!

After our time out west, we had two days turn around time in Spring Lake before we headed to Indy to see family and Evee.

It's always great to see our kids, but miss Josh and Kari, Mike and Joni. It's been a fun weekend hanging out with Clint, Jamie and Evee and Julie.

Tomorrow we fly out to begin the Europe piece of the sabbatical - Slovakia, Bosnia, and Croatia.

Can't send this post without a few pictures of Evee who is now 2 months old. She is such a sweetie! We love her so.

I have one more Israel blog to post in the next few days. Even though it seems a bit after the fact, this one's gripped my heart in such a way that I can't let it go.

Squeaky Clean!

Can't get enough of Evee.

My Papa!

Joining Dennis on his Sabbatical Journey

Dennis and I are just completing the first leg of his sabbatical. I wrote in my journal on my flight out to join Dennis in Salt Lake City the following: Trusting that these next ten days will be a delightful time for Dennis and I - light, fun, easy, comfortable, intimate, laughter, spiritual, with a oneness that only God could bless us with. And it has been just that. We thoroughly enjoyed this time and look forward to the next leg.

Our first day in Glacier National Park while picking up some hiking maps in the visitor center I read with interest the following quote from John Muir: Thousands of tired, nerve-shaken, overcivilized people are beginning to find out that going to the mountains is going home; that wildness is necessity; that mountain parks and reservations are useful not only as fountains of timber and irrigating rivers, but as fountains of life.

Glacier is truly a place of indescribable beauty and a place where in the "wildness" of nature we found great peace and rest. So good! To see some pictures of our time, click on The Sabbatical Journey to your right under links.

Israel.part4 - Brought to Life

I chose to follow Christ as a young girl at the age of ten. I'll never forget that day - it will always be a sweet reminder of the day that God's Spirit made me spiritually alive, the day eternal life began for me, the day I was made new. I remember the faith that rose within me, empowering me to believe that what Jesus did on the cross was really true for me. I remember my Dad being very instrumental in my life that day as he walked with me, hand in hand, to an altar where I asked Jesus to come and live in me. I'll never forget how clean I felt inside - something that to this day I can't adequately explain.

And that's exactly what baptism is all about. An ancient ritual that began in the Jordan River, symbolizing the cleansing of sin and the new life that Jesus gives to those who choose to follow him.


I guess (so my mom says) I didn't want to be put under water after my conversion and so on a Sunday morning I was sprinkled with water as a sign of baptism. In my heart I knew what it meant and so it was a meaningful experience for me. But while we were in Israel we went to the Jordan River where we could be baptized if we so desired. Since I was never immersed, it seemed an appropriate time and place for me to be baptized as Jesus and the early disciples were. And so it was after 41 years of walking with Christ that I was again baptized remembering the new life I began as a young girl. It was even more special to be baptized by Dennis and Pastor Pete.


Brought to life . . . then, now and tomorrow . . . God's work of grace still renewing me day by day.

Israel.part3 - Disrupted Faith . . .

The shore of Galilee

The Sea of Galilee held significance for the three years of Jesus’ ministry life. The city of Capernaum, where Jesus would have preached more sermons and performed more miracles than any other place, sat on its northern shores. Jesus walked on its waters, subdued the stormy sea when the disciples were afraid, and often crossed it to find a place of solitude for prayer with His Father. It was from the shores of Galilee that Jesus called several of his disciples from their fishing livelihood to follow him and be “fishers of men” - one of them Simon Peter.

I stood on its shores where tradition says that Jesus called Peter a second time from his fishing endeavors. The same Peter who Jesus declared was the rock upon which he would build his church. The same Peter who invited Jesus to be a guest in his home in Capernaum. The same Peter who swore he would never disown or deny Jesus. The same Peter who tried to defend Jesus at his arrest. The same Peter while Jesus stood trial, claimed three times that he wasn’t involved with Jesus, that he never knew him. All that he thought Jesus was and all that he hoped for in Jesus was dashed in a moment. Just like that, Peter gave up on Jesus. He wasn’t who he thought he was.

But the thing that gets me most is that Jesus never gave up on Peter. Jesus calls Peter from the shores of Galilee not to reprimand him for his doubts, but to reinstate his love for him. And more than that, he still believed in this “rock” who would help to form the early church. I am always amazed at this story – the incredible unconditional love of Jesus. Peter, do you love me more than these? Do you truly love me? Do you love me? Jesus loved Peter. Now he was giving Peter a chance to renew his love and faith for him – three times to be exact.

When Jesus called Peter the first time, he didn’t fully comprehend the magnitude of Jesus’ life and death. Now the second time, Peter realizes more than ever the glory of Jesus’ life, death and now resurrection. He later writes to encourage the believers undergoing persecution during Nero’s reign, “we were eyewitnesses of his majesty.” He remembers the upheaval brought to his faith even after he walked and talked with Jesus for three years and writes to the new believers, “though you have not seen him, you love him, and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy . . .”

Disrupted faith . . . how often I am like Peter, doubting who Jesus really is, wondering if he is who he says he is. When my faith is shattered, thrown into disarray and confusion, Jesus calls me from the shore, "Friends, have you caught any fish?" And there he provides me with sustenance and restores my faith by his overwhelming love.

Israel.part2 - The Kingdom of Heaven

One of the most significant days for me in Israel happened to be Mother's Day. The morning began with an amazing breakfast at the kibbutz we stayed at off the sea of Galilee. That morning we headed out toward the mountainside where Jesus took his disciples for teaching - known to us as the Mount of Beatitudes. There was a light rain coming down that morning and so we gathered on the veranda of the church that stood on the hillside and listened to the timeless words from Matthew 5-7.

God blesses those who realize their need for him, for the Kingdom of Heaven is given to them.

You are the salt of the earth . . .

You have heard that the law of Moses says. . . but I say. . .

Wherever your treasure is, there your heart and thoughts will also be.

Don't worry about everyday life.

Do for others what you would like them to do for you.

And so go the teachings of Jesus. As I listened my eyes began to well up with tears. The words of Jesus stirred my heart. I bring His Kingdom to earth by how I live.

Father, help me not to settle for status quo, but to align with your Spirit's leading in bringing your Kingdom to earth, not for self gain, but to give away what you have given to me.

Two other places had meaning for me that day. More to come this week.

Israel . . . Heart & Mind in Tandem

Where the elders met at the gate - where Eli would have fallen off the bench when he heard the news that the Philistines captured the Ark of the Covenant.

Qumran - the caves where all but two books of the Old Testament were found.

Dennis and I standing on a cliff where Herod would throw off his enemies. Galilee in the background.

Wilbur Williams, our tour guide is 78 years old. Our journey in Israel was Wilbur's 132nd trip. He has an amazing wealth of knowledge gained over the past 50 years when he began taking hundreds of people on what he calls a spiritual odyssey. These tours, the fact that he is an Old Testament professor and an archeologist who excavated at many of the various places we visited, makes Wilbur a credible and incredible guide. He wanted the Israel tours to be more than just a history lesson, though it is that, he hopes that those who go will experience the God who is involved in history.

Wilbur prefaced the trip with this helpful insight: "Don't let your heart get ahead of your mind. Don't let your mind get ahead of your heart. Let them function in tandem." I thought about this often as I saw sites that I had only read about in the Biblical accounts. I wanted to understand as many of the historical facts as I could, but I also wanted the experience of these places to penetrate my heart in a way that only God could.

I plan to post several blogs over the next few weeks that share the spiritual odyssey that it was for me personally. More than anything, the trip demonstrated to me the credibility and authenticity of the Bible. The places and people we read about are not just myth or fantasy, but real people in real places. The science of archeology gives evidence to history - an amazing thing to see. To look out over the lowlands of Beth-shemesh and picture the return of the Ark of the Covenant from the Philistines (1 Samuel 6) and then to see the valley where David took down Goliath will forever change the way I read my Bible.

Heart and mind in tandem . . . a good thought for all of life.

Proper Place . . .

My minds a humming, so this one is a bit lengthy, but hang with me.

My kids would be familiar with an old adage that I often used as they were growing up. If they are reading this, I'll bet they know what I'm about to say. "Everything has a place and everything in its place." Even if the toilets needed cleaning or the kitchen floor hadn't been mopped in months, as long as the house was clutter-free I could function a lot better because at least things were in their proper place.

Over the years I've been discovering (and still am) that the phrase "proper place" means more than just an orderly home. Relationships, material things, and even things in the spiritual life have their proper place. It's so easy to place people or things where they don't belong.

For instance, I need to keep my husband in his proper place. And I don't mean this in a derogatory way. I mean like giving Dennis priority over my children, or other things as far as that goes. A mom can easily put children before husband. Don't get me wrong, I love my kids, but I want Dennis to be the one I serve, love and honor the most and my actions and expressions better show it.

On the other hand, I need to keep my kids in their proper place and I need to understand my proper place in their lives, especially with our now grown and married children. As parents we start out as caregivers. Children need us not only to survive in the early years, but to learn and grow in character. Throughout the teen years we assume the role of coach - training them in the game of life, occasionally calling them to the sidelines for a pep talk or a new game play (and at times, discipline), but always their greatest fans. Once they are independent adults we serve as counselors (only when they ask for it - that's the hard part).

Two years ago while taking a college course on Spiritual Formation I realized I had taken "devotions" out of its proper place. "Doing my devotions" had become an idol in my life . . . a check on my spiritual "to do" list, a discipline that made me holy. Now that's called self-righteousness. I'm not saying that reading the Word and praying are not good things to do, but they are only pathways to God. God is the One who makes me holy, not the Bible or my prayer life. We need to be on guard for a Pharisaical view of the disciplines. We need to keep them in their proper place.

And just recently I understood to a greater degree that a certain action didn't belong to me - that of judging. It is not my creaturely role to judge. It is something that solely belongs to God. Only with Him, is judgment in its proper place.

No wonder God made the first two commandments about keeping Him in His proper place. He knew our tendency to misplace even Him. "No other gods before me."

The phrase "proper place" is my "word" for the year. Last fall my schooling consumed me because I had taken it out of its proper place. I loved my classes and all, but not to the point where it took precedence over just about everything and everyone else. I sometimes can become so absorbed with something that life gets cluttered and I need to remind myself, "proper place." Once I put it in its proper place, life is as it should be.