Busy!

Hello, all!

I just wanted to let you know I am alive and well. I am working on an assignment that has commanded all of my time, so I am not writing/blogging like I used to.

The assignment? I'm illustrating a children's book that I wrote about a year ago. The original concept came from a puppet show that I wrote about two sisters who were very different from each other and the way their mom helped them to see how special each was. We performed the play "black box theatre"-style with enormous body puppets. At one point in the play, the girls sat together and read the "book". Now it is really becoming a book!

Please pray for me as I seek God's direction in each illustration. I will post more as time permits. The basic sketches are done and the book itself is laid out. I now am working on the color studies and will soon be doing the actual pen/ink/watercolor art pieces.

May God give you a blessing and assignment as well!

Onward, fellow artists and writers!

Of Chicken Soup and Hard Candies

I know I have an active imagination. It is one of the character traits with which God has blessed me. Sometimes, though, it is really “out there”!

Take, for example, one of my mental images of the Holy Spirit.

Scripture calls the Holy Spirit “The Comforter”. That sounds so sweet and soothing. “There, there, Lisa. Everything will be fine, you will see. Here, let’s get you a nice hot bowl of chicken soup.” Envision a wonderful, gentle grandmother with thick, welcoming arms and an abundant supply of Kleenex. You can almost see the dish of sugar-soldered hard candies on the coffee table.

This Holy Spirit whispers in my ear. “Send that person a note of encouragement.” “Pray for this person.” “Check that pocket before you put those pants in the wash.” “Your daughter could use a phone call today.” “Your son in Japan could use some hand lotion and taco seasoning. Send some when you pack that care package this week.” Seriously. Ask Adam if it isn’t so.

But today, I explored a word and discovered a definition that brings a new dimension to my Comforter. I marvel at the depth of meaning and shake my head at what gets lost in translation.

Comfort comes from the Latin word fortis which means “strength”. Like Fort Knox. Like fortified cereal. (Have you had your Wheaties today? It’s the breakfast of champions!) Like A Mighty Fortress is Our God. Add the prefix com, which is an intensifier, and you get something akin to “powerfully strengthened”. My Comforter does more than just gently pat my shoulder and tell me it will be OK. My Comforter suits me up in God’s armor and climbs in with me. My Comforter encourages and empowers me. “Onward!” is the cry!

That’s a pretty powerful “grandma”, if you ask me. What do you want to bet that comfort-food-soup has got more than just seven essential vitamins and iron? And hey, maybe that stone-hard candy is ammunition for my slingshot. Watch out, Goliath!

Do-It-Yourself?

Confession alert!

I love to watch home improvement shows.

There’s always somebody on there who has tackled a project themselves and gotten in way over their head. Then they have to call an expert. Oftentimes, it costs them more than it would have to hire the expert first. They always start off thinking they can do it themselves. Hmmm. See a spiritual application coming?

This week I saw a show with a twist: the inexperienced wife was trying to help the professional-grade husband install cabinets he built. Can you say “recipe for disaster”? At one point, he just needed her to get out of his way. She was crushed. (Emotionally, y’all, not physically!)

Wife wanted to help. She loved her husband. She was excited about his work. She was doing all she knew to assist. But at that point, she was making matters much more difficult than they needed to be. She needed to get out of the way.

Zing! God zapped me on this one!

How many times have I gotten in God’s way? My intentions are pure, but sometimes I am just making things worse by meddling in affairs way too far over my head. I don’t understand why we can’t just nail those cabinets to the wall. Come on, God, I’ll hold it up and you nail it. (I hear you laughing out there!)

Guess what? Impatience and pride are not conducive qualities.

Sometimes He’ll let me try to hold it up myself. (Wow, this is too heavy!) Sometimes He’ll let me just get it nailed up, only to find out there wasn’t enough support in the wall and it tears away and crashes to the floor. (What? I needed to use screws? Find the wall studs? What's a cleat?) At times, I have not measured correctly (ah, what's a half an inch?) or try to put the cabinet in the wrong position (I think it should go here, even if it was designed to go there!).

Finally, I give up and admit I cannot do it myself and step back to listen to the Expert. What time I have wasted! What resources I have squandered!

The lesson? Beware of what you think is a do-it-yourself project. Call the Expert first. And learn to get out of His way!

Portable feast

When I was eleven years old, I got my very own pocket-sized transistor radio. From my tiny Kansas town, I could hear broadcasts from Omaha, Nebraska over 100 miles away. It was amazing to me!

What 1970s preteen joy: a starry summer night and American Top 40 with Casey Kasem!

Tuning into the desired station with the analog control knob was tricky. You had to listen very carefully as you dialed, almost crept, into the correct, narrow bandwidth. Oftentimes, you could hear the cacophony of several stations at once! An incremental twist revealed static, another tiny turn brought more overlaid confusion. Then, by turning yourself slightly and finding just the right position, the airwaves became suddenly, startlingly crystalline clear. Then you had to stay still. Very still. But, oh, the happiness of a personal, portable auditory feast!

That prized transistor radio is long forgotten and I’ve long since lost the art of being still. Come to think of it, I have not recently partaken of an auditory feast. Oh wait… what is that I hear? I struggle to tune in, to get past the static in my ears… or is that my heart?

“Be still!”

God reminds me of a little transistor radio and a narrow bandwidth, of positioning myself until the sound was crystalline. He gently instructs my heart to dial, to find the correct position to tune into His voice, His own narrow bandwidth.

My friends, it is time for a feast! Pardon me while I go get ready!

Illuminate

I have a mission for the year. It’s a one-word command: Illuminate.

Years ago, I had a powerful dream. I was standing in a room with two attendants who pulled back a curtain to reveal the most beautiful tapestry I have ever seen. The background was rich, almost-midnight-blue. Intricate, exquisite embroidery in vivid jewel tones wove in and out and around unfamiliar silver and gold letters. I asked one of the attendants what it said.

“It is God’s name for you: it is His vision for your life,” was the reply.

Stunned, I asked, “Well, what does it say?”

The answer has stayed with me to this day.

“It says, ‘One Who Shines’.”

Fast forward to Wednesday night, February 4. I sit in service with dear friends as we soak in the last evening our beloved Worship Leader will spend with us before beginning his new assignment from God. My heart is full and open. I am still. It is the perfect opportunity for God to zap me, to sneak up on me and plant my own new assignment.

The minister has preached about being the light of the world. He uses the word “illuminate”. Suddenly the light goes on in my spirit as God whispers, “Illuminate the text, ‘One Who Shines’! Onward!"

In Art History class, we learned about “Illuminated Text”. It refers to the beautiful, intricate illustrations of the monks who copied scripture. They crafted borders and vignettes on pages of text to not only beautify but also present the scripture to the illiterate, to those who could not read the unfamiliar letters.

Like the tapestry in my dream.

Like the children’s books I am writing and illustrating. Those two unfinished books have been sitting on my desk, collecting dust because I have not given them priority. One God gave me to do last spring. The other came at New Year’s. They have been roughly sketched out, waiting for inspiration. Now, I am literally called back to the drawing board!

Ponder this example of God, the Master Planner: what style of illustration do you think I have used in those books? I have woven intricate borders and illustrations on pages of text to present scripture to the illiterate, to those who can not read. I am dumbstruck with wonder and awe at how God has been guiding as I have been unaware.

Then, just as I think it is only about the children’s books, He reminds me that I am to also illuminate through my online journaling, to illustrate with word pictures.

And for one glorious moment, He pulled back the curtain again.

Accurate Fit

Did you ever play dress up? I remember my son as a toddler, trying on his daddy’s shoes and hat. He couldn’t see out from under the brim. He couldn’t pick up his feet, but strained just to shuffle along. The photo op lasted only a few minutes, not even long enough to find the camera. It was just too hard for him to move under that burden.

It was a different story when Adam had on his own gear. You couldn’t contain him. He was busy getting things done. I’ve got several pictures of him in those little sneakers and ball cap!

At times I have found myself playing spiritual dress-up. Like David in Saul’s armor, I’ve tried to walk around in somebody else’s suit, with pathetic results. Like David, I’ve found Saul’s tunic and accoutrements to be not just ill-fitting but also burdensome. God equipped David with a staff and a sling and five smooth stones to do the job He had set before him. Saul’s armor was not intended for David. Saul’s armor is not mine, either.

I have my own suit, tailored with God’s measurements for my life.

There are spiritual gifts that I simply do not possess. There are missions that are not mine. There are great and wonderful works that are intended for others to do. But God has ordained specific things for me and I need to be about the business of discovering them. I need to stand and be measured, be fitted according to those measurements, not what I wish them to be but what they actually are. I am not a size 6. I am not a size 22.

God has a suit of armor for me and I, according to Ephesians 6:10, am to put it on. (The armor belongs to God, “Government-issued”!) Though we all have the same armor components, He has given me a suit sized especially for me. Let Saul wear his own. Let David wear his own. Let the spiritual leaders in my life wear their own. You wear yours. May God grant me the grace to wear mine.

O Christmas Tree, how lovely are Thy branches!

My to-do list this week included “disassemble the tree.” That was never on the post-Christmas instructions in my childhood home. I grew up in an era of real trees, the kind the whole family could argue over.

My mother’s favorite was Scotch pine. It was a densely-branched long-needled tree. I don’t remember ever going to cut one down: that cultivar must not have grown in the regions where we lived. But I do remember the fussing and cussing and stay-out-of-the-way straining as my father put it up, trying to get it straight in the dysfunctional stand, tying it in place to the walls with nearly-invisible fishing line. More than once, one of us didn't see it and nearly strung ourselves up. Yes, that really set the holiday mood!

Christmas tree hunting with my own children was a much more pleasant experience. We went to the farms, little red saw in hand, and searched acres of rows of fragrant white pines for the perfect One. Sometimes we found a bird’s nest inside, with or without tiny empty half-shells. Those were my favorites.

It was not until I remarried in my mid-thirties that I ever had a fake tree: a “symbol of a symbol”, as I called it.

A Christmas tree symbolizes Christ, from the cross (also called a tree) He was nailed upon to the sacrifice of life it represents. How could an artificial tree embody sacrifice?

I surrendered my real tree because my stepson was allergic to the real thing. At that time, my aunt was getting rid of her old-model artificial in favor of the latest, greatest trend: pre-lit trees! I accepted the 1980s-era cast-off. It is the one I disassembled yet again two days ago. My stepson and all the other children are now grown and gone. The tree, ironically, “lives” on.

In its absence, the corner of the dining room looked absolutely bare and forlorn and yes, dead. I have remedied that situation by replacing it with a live tree! It is not a pine, but a seven-foot ficus, the lovely weeping fig that was becoming cramped in my sunroom.

Throughout the branches I have draped string of twinkle lights. Just now, I have become aware that I can see them reflected on the computer screen. Jesus looks down from the picture on the bookshelf to my right. My verse-a-day desk calendar stands to my left. My to-do list just faded away, supplanted by an urging: be still and know. Soak. Worship.

Even in January, Christmas is here. Christ is here

Whirlwinds and Starry Skies

Friends, it has been a whirlwind two weeks!

We had our Christmas production at church on Friday and Sunday. I played one of the focal characters, a woman named Jade who has become “trapped in the trappings” of Christmas to the point where she cannot even find its true meaning anymore.

Does that sound familiar? I know I can become so distracted that I can pass by the Nativity scene in my dining room and not even look in on the Baby Jesus. I am guilty of passing Him without a glance here in my home. What does that say for my heart?

I read in the Bible this week about the Wise Men. They noticed something in the sky to alert them of that a King of all kings was born. Did you even notice the sky last night? Can you tell me, without running to the window, what the sky looks like today? How much do we miss because we aren’t paying attention? How much do we take for granted? How complacent have we become?

When the Wise Men went to Herod, he asked the religious leaders about where the Messiah would be born. They answered, “Bethlehem”. But did they get excited about the possibility that the Messiah had been born? Did they marvel at the Magi’s quest and go hurriedly to investigate? We have no report or evidence that they even were interested. They knew it all… and still missed it all.

I know the story by heart. I have read the prophecies. All around me is celebration and decoration. But am I still missing it? Am I trapped in the trappings? Are you?

Please, God, help us! Calm the whirlwind around us and in us, as Jesus did the storm on the Lake of Galilee, saying, “Peace! Be still!” Let us investigate with wonder the birth of our Savior. Let us experience Immanuel, even now!

Quick Update

I returned from my visit with the Duke neurologist today.

Let me tell you, it was a good thing we sent God ahead of us, because God was the only thing that arrived in advance.

Neither my records from my neurologist nor the letter I sent were received by the doctor. I called the neurologist's office earlier this week to make sure they'd been sent. They claimed to have sent them. (Hmmm. All these blunders by that office have me convinced that it's time to find a new neurologist!)

But it's OK. The Holy Spirit nudged me this week to copy some of the files I had at home. I brought those few pages, which included bloodwork results, and the copies of the MRIs I've had.

An exam and consult later, the Duke neuro noticed something in that bloodwork that my neurologist's office had not. Then we talked about results of a liver screening I'd had done about ten years ago that had showed problems. He connected a few dots and recommended that I have a full liver screening done. Funny, no one else had ever thought to dig that far.

If the liver is not functioning properly, the toxins it is supposed to filter out end up in the blood and can affect the whole body... including the nervous system. Presto! Enter my symptoms.

So Monday we will draw some blood at my primary care doctor and I will be asking a friend at church for her neurologist's name (local).

I'll keep you posted.

But for now, thank you for your prayers and for sending God ahead. God imparted wisdom to a doctor who was flying in the dark. He had it under control. No surprise there. :)

Onward,
Lisa

Divine Appointment

Y’all, I am just not writing enough! Do you feel neglected?

I’ve had another neuro-episode and I’ve been doing more resting than anything else. It is about the only thing that seems to help when my nervous system decides to take a spin on the merry-go-round! Plus, my computer has had a few neuro-issues of its own, poor thing!

My episodes make writing more difficult because my coordination is challenged, even down to fine motor skills. I encounter fat-fingering (when I hit two keys together) as well as a sort of typing dyslexia: my fingers get out of order when I hit the keys. It can be frustrating but occasionally amusing: changing the order of two letters can give an entirely different (and strikingly inappropriate or hilarious) word, like playing MadLibs!

But I do have good news and a God story.

I am scheduled for an appointment at Duke University Medical. YAY!

We had discussed Mayo Clinic, but Mayo discontinued its association with my insurance company as of October 1. Mayo recommended Duke. My appointment was scheduled for March 5, but when I went online to research the doctor I was to meet, I found out she was a stroke specialist. Curious. I have not had a stroke, nor do my symptoms match pre-stroke signs. I backed up one page on the website.

Before me were twenty-plus pictures of Duke neurologists. I asked God to show me the one He wanted me to see. Two faces immediately stood out. I clicked on their profiles and found experience with my symptoms. Perfect! I called Duke. The receptionist was a little testy when I told her I’d been scheduled with the wrong doctor.

“Well,” she snipped, “what doctor do you want?”
I smiled. I had a confident answer.

Don’t you know I was able to schedule an appointment with my second-choice doc for November 26! And when Duke called the next day to confirm, I found I was actually scheduled with the doctor who was my first choice! Now that’s God intervention!

So now we send God on ahead of me.

It is the most effective way to get an answer: send God ahead. I’m asking God to permeate the place I will be going. I’m asking Him to solve the riddle. I’m asking Him to shower wisdom on the doctor, even today. I’m begging Him to supernaturally intervene and let this be a fruitful visit. And I submit myself to His plan.

Friends, will you join me? Send God ahead. Send Him ahead of my appointment. Send Him ahead of whatever you are facing, especially with Thanksgiving and its opportunity to be with family and friends who may not know Him. Let Him prepare the hearts. Ask Him to begin to marinate a few minds. Ask Him to guide you into what He would have you say and do. Ask Him to make it very, very clear. Then submit to His plan. Trust. Obey.

Snoopy and Bellydancing

What?????

There’s actually something posted on Lisa’s blog?

Catch me before I faint!!!

OK, y’all I have heard you. I shall bring before you Standard Excuse # 16: I’ve been busy.

Honestly.

I have not put my tush in the seat and written ANYTHING in weeks. Not even scripts for church. And, no, this is not because I now have a Facebook page, though that could easily swallow hours.

Have y’all been on Facebook yet? I got a page so I could keep up with my three children and two stepchildren in their far-flung reaches of the country and, yea, the planet. I found relatives and long-lost friends and people whom I do not know who seem to want to be my friend if for no other reason than to increase the number of people they claim to know. And then there are the invitations to play all sorts of games: I can “grow” plants to save the rainforest; get bought, sold, or kidnapped; accept and arrange “flair” and find out which Peanuts character I am most like. I am Snoopy, by the way.

But I truly have not spent much time on the thing. I’ve been spending time reading and studying. I’m taking this awesome Precepts class that is exploring “covenant”, and let me tell you, my eyes are being opened in ways I cannot even explain. Scripture is woven with such beauty and depth! Covenant language and symbolism are abundant in so many traditions, from the custom of the handshake to the way we exchange food at drink at our wedding receptions! I’ll write more about that later.

But for now…

I have an article to finish for the newsletter our Worship Department publishes. And I need to practice my choreography for my bellydance class. Yeah, you read that correctly.

Doing the Egyptian basic,
Lisa

Think about it