Dearest One, 

Just minutes ago I opened the front closet where our mail spills when the postman lets it fall from his grip. A collection of flier sheets and several bills remain where they scattered upon contact with my speckled tile floor. I left them there. I have something to write. And though I've never called you "dearest one" (It can come off patronizing), ...you are dear. Jesus is reminding me today just how precious we are to Him. 

My mind has been returning to Jerusalem as of late. It's because Easter is mere days away, I suppose. Maybe it's because a friend who just returned from the Holy City has flooded Facebook with pictures, taking me back. Whatever the case, Jerusalem is on my mind. 

  
  

The place I'm thinking of most though, is a modest grove of olive trees better known as the Garden of Gethsamane. This garden, I remember, almost seemed out of place, surrounded by the bustling city of Jerusalem. Nothing but a wall separates a sidewalk encircling the garden from the busy street on the other side. And yet it was peaceful. It was simple, not ornate like one might imagine a garden-especially one that boasts being the place where Jesus prayed as he was arrested. 

  

Gethsamane is quietly dotted with small bunches of purple and deep pink blooms, but the hard dry ground is more held together by gnarly twisted trunks of the olive tree. Their branches, covered in lush green, seem to reach out in umbrella fashion as if to provide shade and shelter from the elements. Carbon dating puts several of these ancient beings at just seventy years short of a thousand years old. These old trees speak of rest. 

  

The olive branch is a symbol of peace, you know. 

Oh the irony that our Lord sweat drops of blood in this garden.  The night he prayed there must have been anything but peaceful.  Right thereafter he allowed himself to be arrested, choosing death, a shameful excruciating death on a cross. 

The punishment we earned, He took upon Himself. The punishment He freely took, brought us peace. 

  

We have peace in Him

A peace, who with gracious boughs, calms us with a lullaby 

This peace found in outstretched arms reminds us of God's provision.  

It's important that you know that here in this week where responsibilities and anxieties duke it our for first place in your crowded heart. 

We have a place of rest right smack in the middle of busy. 

You may be up to your ears in Easter plans; preparing to entertain company. Maybe you have new Easter dresses or little shoes to buy. Upcoming church activities might be occupying a great deal of your time in the days to come. Our church will be stuffing eggs every day this week. We're shooting for twenty-thousand candy-filled eggs. And then there are school parties and events that will have some of us hopping from store to store. 

It's possible too that Easter has barely crossed your mind. Work or family demands dominate every waking hour. If you're like me, the stress of to-do's creep into your dreams at night. Trouble doesn't take time off for Easter or any other special day. The holidays actually invite stress. 

With Easter right around the corner some of us face harrowing test results, loneliness, loss, defeat and broken relationships that threaten to swallow us up. 

We're overcome with doing. We're weary from worry. And yet there's a in the midst of toil and trouble that waits for us. 

As the disciples were surrounded by darkness that night in the garden Jesus wasn't far away

Luke 22:41 

He withdrew about a stone’s throw beyond them, knelt down and prayed.

He's just a stone's throw away. 

Though your hours be consumed, there's rest available, even in the rush. Come to the garden, an inner sanctuary. You'll find the peace you're searching for. 

  A stone's throw away

No matter the dark place you find yourself in He promises the light of His presence. 

Draw near to God and He will come near to you. James 4:8

Peace is just a stone's throw away. 

Jesus prayed in the garden

I in them and you in me—so that they may be brought to complete unity. Then the world will know that you sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me. 

John 17:23

  

2 Corinthians 2:15
For we are a fragrance of Christ to God among those who are being saved and among those who are perishing

My sense of smell has been dulled the past few weeks due to a stubborn sinus infection. So this morning when I was about to slip on my right Converse tennis shoe it was unscented as far as I was concerned.  I did, however notice a small patch of grass enmeshed with what appeared to be dog mess. Upon closer inspection I confirmed it. 

We're road-tripping today.  I'm glad I could spare my riding companions the foul smell. 

  
Worse than smelling poo on your shoe is being unaware that you stink while others around you are adversely affected. 

I know from experience. I remember a day in my first grade classroom telling the kids that one of them had suffered the misfortune of stepping in mess. I walked around the room inspecting first grade shoes when one of the kids interrupted "It's you!"  

Lesson learned. Check yourself. 

Mess on our shoe isn't the worst time we give off a bad aroma. Flagrant sin can be an ill-effecting and long-lasting stench in the nostrils of people around us. 

What's your stink? 

Is it the way you treat a cashier when you're in a hurry? The way you talk to your kids when you're irritable or exhausted?

Is it some nasty habit or a lifestyle choice you've convinced yourself is ok, even though God's word leads you to believe otherwise? 

Are you apathetic? Apathy stinks too. 

Self smell checks should be a priority. Scripture reading and prayer help us to identify where we stink. 

When our senses are dulled, hopefully we have friends to help. 

As aforementioned, sometimes we don't smell our stink. Several years ago I sat with a group of friends. We were mainly listening to one friend in the group who was facing a rather important family decision. She was frustrated and worn out. In her anxiety this good friend of mine began to grumble about her husband; something many of us have found ourselves guilty of doing. Another friend in the room laughed nervously and then told her, in the kindest manner, that she was saying things that she wouldn't say had she thought better. 

I'm thankful for friends like that (probably not at the time if I'm the one being corrected). We all need a friend like that; a friend that loves us enough to say "Hey friend that I love... you've lost it" or "Take some time to think about what you're doing". 

Many of us, including myself, are weak in this area. Maybe it's because we have so many aquaintances, but few friends as close as a sister (sisters are awesome at pointing out the necessary). 

We may worry that our words will hurt rather than help. We may be concerned that Godly counsel may end in our losing a friend. Maybe we fear that being a friend who values this kind of transparency will provide opportunity for our own stink to be exposed. 

Proverbs 27:9

Oil and perfume make the heart glad, So a man's counsel is sweet to his friend.

Dear God, 

May you remind us daily to "check ourselves" in prayer and according to your word. May we trust that your correction is gentle and always for our good. Help us to invest time in friendships making it a little easier to say the hard things that will sometimes need to be said. We ask that you shut our mouths when we're about to speak without love and that you'll give us boldness when we should speak. May we come to better know your idea of what a friend is. 

 Let the message about Christ, in all its richness, fill your lives. Teach and counsel each other with all the wisdom he gives. 

Colossians 3:16

Our friendship was struck up twenty years ago as we were both about to be first time mothers. We took Lamaze classes together with a drill sargent of a woman who insisted there'd be no monkey business as we practiced our breathing techniques. 

We saved laughter and monkey business for times we'd visit each other's house and then once when we had a picnic at a local park. It was the first time I saw strength in my friend Judy. 

I'd made pimiento cheese stuffed jalapeño peppers with peppers that were turning black. (I learned about pepper color after this experience.) Deseeding them gave me near second degree burns under my fingernails and I do believe tear stains were still apparent on my cheeks as we picnicked. But Judy ate them. I think she was the only one. And if I remember correctly, she asked me for the recipe. 

It would be the first sign, but definitely not the most impressing sign, of her strength. 

On the 14th day of October 1996, her beautiful baby girl Lauren was born. Lauren was quickly whisked away to the NICU in FT Worth about an hour away. I remember getting ready to go see Judy in the hospital worried about how I'd be able to encourage her. I just remember her courage. 

 

 

Both before and since I've known Judy she's had more major surgeries than I can possibly count. There have been several back surgeries. She's suffered from Crohn's disease for over half her life but she's complained little about its effects.  It has restricted her diet, but has hardly held her back from her duties. I remember the days, sick and thin, she'd mow the yard and cook a meal of chicken fried steak with buttermilk batter and all the fixings. And there'd be pie. 

Proverbs 31

10  She is worth far more than rubies...
13 She selects wool and flax
    and works with eager hands...
17 She sets about her work vigorously;
    her arms are strong for her tasks...
25 She is clothed with strength and dignity;
    she can laugh at the days to come.
26 She speaks with wisdom,
    and faithful instruction is on her tongue.
27 She watches over the affairs of her household
    and does not eat the bread of idleness.
28 Her children arise and call her blessed;
    her husband also, and he praises her:
29 “Many women do noble things,
    but you surpass them all.”
30 Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting;
nbsp;   but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised.
31 Honor her for all that her hands have done,
    and let her works bring her praise at the city gate.

She's been bit by a snake, but she barely slowed down. She's walked through big fires with determination and resolve.  She's taught full-time through every trial sponsoring numerous school events and loving high school kids like they're her own. This woman is strong. 

We've been separated by miles for about the past fifteen years, but time has only served to increase my admiration of her strength of character. 

She's battled, and beat cancer in the past three years. I remember sitting on the porch of a cabin in Colorado one morning when she called. When she said the word cancer I braced myself, again wondering how I'd lift her spirits. But like always, Judy was looking for something other than warm and fuzzy words.  Prayer is the only thing she ever asks for. This cancer battle has included several surgeries, long hospitalization and chemotherapy.

 Most recently, last month, she underwent unexpected and especially risky heart surgery. As I talked to her on the phone, her indomitable spirit traveled through the phone line filling me up with a special kind of pride that I have in calling her friend.  When we talk about how I can pray for her she quickly turns her requests to her husband and her two kids. She prays for more strength and to be able to hastily return to her tasks. 

Facebook announced this morning that today is "International Women's Day".  I didn't initially think much of it. Quickly thereafter I noticed a Gofund Me account has been set up for this dear friend of mine as she and her family face medical bills that cannot be surmounted with even  the hardest of work. I believe her enduring faith is one worth celebrating and her cause is one worth sharing. 

My wish is that her example will give you the perspective that it's given me; that even great trials can be faced with courage and, always, hope. Please consider doing one of the following things for my friend Judy. Check out her GoFund Me account that has been set up by a friend. Then please share it. Give a little. Or lift up a prayer or two that her health would be restored and that God would continue to provide for her family. I trust that He'll continue to shine through them. He always has. 

I've posted her Gofund Me link on my Facebook page. 

Thank you

  

I've received two speeding tickets and a warning in my lifetime. Though I was perturbed each time I saw flashing lights in my rear view mirror, I know that I deserved them because I was indeed speeding. 

Because my foot has had an occasional history of being five miles too heavy in a school zone or on the highway,  I usually get a little heart flutter every time I see a cop car. For most of my life I can say I haven't been glad to see a police car. That is, until an experience I had this past summer. 

I had taken my oldest to college orientation in Huntsville. After bossing him around like he was still twelve, I forced myself into a bathroom stall and prayed that God would help me back away and allow him the independence he needed. I asked God to help me trust that He was taking care of my boy. It was becoming clear that miles of distance, not to mention his six foot plus stature, made my control over him a little more difficult. 

The next day Hayden and his friend followed me back home to Nederland in his friend's car. Less than halfway home Hayden and his friend were involved in a minor car accident two cars behind me. I quickly looped around the block and rushed to an unnerving scene. A barefoot man in swim trunks was out of his truck cursing loudly at the boys,  the man's girlfriend was shouting from the inside of the truck while three small children sat in the back. I tried to speak to the man once, but it was clear that talking with him wasn't productive. 

Within two minutes a police officer arrived and took control of the situation. The officer, Tito Reyes, was patient to answer our questions and seemed to be able to de-escalate the emotions of the man from the other car who had dropped "F-bombs" not only at the boys, but also the at the lady with him, and in front of three children in their car. 

We felt safe in this officer's presence. He was unintimidating, but most certainly in charge. 

Proverbs 15:18 "A hot-tempered person stirs up conflict, but one who is patient calms a quarrel". 

That strange encounter ended with the man in the truck in cuffs due to there having been a warrant out for his arrest. 

Certainly God had worked in this situation to answer my call for aid in trusting Him. He reminded me that there are people, like police officers, whom he uses to keep my family safe when I can't. 

We have friends and family serving on the police force. My cousin Roy survived a gunshot wound while on duty and continues to serve. Jason and I lost a friend a few summers back from a gunshot wound he received while protecting citizens. His name was Sargent Lance McClean and he leaves behind his wife Katy who has displayed nothing but courage as she cares for their two children who will grow up without their father. 

John 15:13 

Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.

 Our friends and family who have escaped critical injury in their service still have harrowing stories, as do all officers I'm sure. 

Are all police officers honorable? Certainly not.  I was pulled over by one without a warning in the nineties on my way to college. I'd been driving two or three miles over the speed limit but had people passing me like I was standing still. This officer had me get into his patrol car and asked me questions that indicated his intentions weren't concentrated on neither my safety nor the safety of others on the road. I know there are other officers out there who aren't serving with integrity just as there are pastors and teachers who work in a way that they do a disservice and are sometimes a danger to the people they encounter. 

I do believe however, that most men and women in uniform are there to protect and serve. They make split-second decisions that can have a permanent impact. They don't do it without training or conscience. Still, some of the decisions they make end in tragedy simply because the situations they find themselves in are with people on the brink of a tragic outcome. 

I'm sure they covet our support. They all need our prayer. 

The LORD is good, a stronghold in the day of trouble; and He knows those who trust in Him. Nahum 1:7

Our youngest, Rylie decided to make cupcakes last night to show our appreciation for the tireless work they do. I read this week where people were performing random acts of kindness in the name of a slain officer, David Hofer. We obliged, thankful for the protection that we have in policemen. 

  
Our experience in delivering treats this morning was one that only further increased our admiration for their dedication. As we delivered cupcakes to the second spot, Officer Will Navarre took time to show Rylie his police car. He reminded me that those who serve are more than courageous men who are willing to sacrifice.  They're our friends.

My prayers go out to these men and women who have answered the call of duty to uphold justice and provide protection. I pray for the families who fear for the safety of their loved one who serves us. I pray for the families whose lives have been changed forever like Katy and her two precious children and the family of Euless Officer David Hofer whose lives changed forever this past Tuesday. May God guide and protect these families and cover them with His love and grace. 

We back the blue. 

  

  
"She's like the ocean," I told someone. The surface, as good
as it is, is only a subtle hint of what lies beneath. You may have known her for years and only know the color of her hair which recently changed from light brown (which she insists was dark blonde) to a rich shade of redd-ish. You may know that she likes theater. And if you're her Instagram friend you know she likes selfies and ice cream. But other than that, she's mystery. 
  

She purses her lips together when she smiles and often turns up the corners at appropriate times because she's been taught it's polite to smile. 

She's not so easily amused. She won't throw you a pity laugh when you tell a joke. She'll designate the times you should laugh if you don't catch her sarcasm or the pun she just made. If you make her laugh you'll feel as if you've truly accomplished something. 

  

 
She's kind, but she's her "own kind". If you asked her for half of her sandwich, she might not give it to you. When she was eight, her Sunday school teachers encouraged the kids to give up the points they'd earned (points given for bringing their bible, a friend or offering). The teachers agreed to turn those points into money that would be used for the Lottie Moon missions offering. Most kids gave all their points. Hallie decided to exchange ALL of her points for something else from the Sunday school "Disciple Dollar" store.  

She came home with a paper sack full of plastic snakes. Before I could shame her for such un-Sunday school behavior, she told me she'd bought the snakes for the girls we'd been serving at an orphanage in Africa. She'd given to missions, but she gave "Hallie style" just like she would later in middle school when she raised over two hundred dollars making bandana headbands. She donated the money to the Humane Society in memory of a friend. 

  

 
She's made numerous pro-life posts on her Instagram account, especially when she was in seventh grade. Sometimes the comments on those posts were full of opposition, occasionally from people she didn't know.  She never argued or gave in. She simply continued to make posts defending the unborn. 

As a teenage girl, she's never needed a posse. She's fiercely independent. Neither insults nor flattery make much difference in the way she views herself. When she was in first grade a girl told her she didn't like her.  She replied, in her monotone voice (I'm sure), "What do you want me to do about it?"  If there were an arm wrestling match that showed inner strength, and we battled, she would beat me. 

  

Her hugs mean something. She doesn't hug you just because... Her "I love yous" aren't said in ritual. She asks me every now and then to drive around with her. That "driving around" is like truth serum and she shares her heart. When she asks to "make a few more blocks" I never say no because we've learned to create a special time that will go down in my book of memories. 

  

She won't get a hot pan out of the oven but if we were stranded without medical help and I needed surgery I'm sure she'd perform it. When she was tiny I let her use tweezers to try to get a splinter out of my foot. I pretended to be in severe pain. She was unmoved, focused on her task. 

At four she picked up a chicken snake and carried it around, urging our friend who screamed in terror to give her fears to God. She's saved chickens from a pesky dog, catching them and throwing them over a fence. She's bold like the coffee her dad drinks. 

  

She's all this and yet she continues to surprise me at the corners of life with some new unexpected characteristic. Thanking God for fifteen years with her and looking forward to more years and more surprises...and more driving around. Before long it'll be her behind the wheel, but I bet she'll be able to handle it. 

Happy 15th birthday Hallie. I love you (and I mean it). 

Dear Teenage Daughter, 

You finally got an iPhone. I'm pretty sure you knew it was coming. Your youth leader openly teased you about your blackberry (without the smart) phone. He did it in front of us in effort to let us know we should upgrade. 

Then there's that time at the beginning of this school year that your teacher announced you would be using your smart phone.  She asked the class by show of hands who had one. You were the only one with your hand down. 

Plus you've become increasingly engaged in social events this year like after school theater practice and youth events and need a dependable phone. And you just turned fifteen. 

So we got you one. We're not monsters. 

  

Tuesday when you opened your birthday gifts, you opened your phone case first. The cat was out of the bag. You opened the other gifts quickly and purposefully. 

Immediately I sent you some emojis to make up for times in the past that I tried to send you an emoji and it showed up on your phone as some weird intelligible character that reminded you that you weren't a part of the "Emoji Club". I'm sorry for those times I made you feel you didn't belong in the phone world. 

  

But now I'm a good mom and your dad's a good dad. 

We'll sort of. 

It's three days past your birthday and I have a confession to make. I was hoping to share it with you at a later date, but since you haven't answered your texts in a timely manner today, it's best to go ahead and tell you. 

Your smart phone isn't just for you. Really, it's for your dad and me. 

Your phone is useful to us because it serves as a tracking device, much like someone with an ankle bracelet on probation. So keep up with it.  It helps us to know your whereabouts. (Stalking apps don't work on blackberries without smart-like capabilities. )

An hour ago we knew that your college-age brother had just left his dorm in Huntsville -before he let us know...Because we stalk him on a parent friendly app called "Find  Iphone". 

Helpful hint though. We can't stalk you if your phone is off. And if your phone is turned off we immediately think that you're engaging in bad behavior and don't want us to know your whereabouts; kind of like when your little sister used to hide behind the couch when she'd heisted chocolate. 

If you don't return a text promptly, or if your phone is turned off, the next thing we think is that you're dead,or possibly kidnapped. 

See?

  

I realize you're at a theater contest right now.  I understand they probably have you turn your phone off too, being that they don't want performances interrupted. I get it. But rational thoughts such as these only come after the thoughts I previously mentioned -

1. You going rogue 

2. You having been abducted or your untimely demise  

Tell me something. Wasn't checking to see if you had any texts from me the first thing on your mind at lunch break? 

We hope your iPhone will bring you much joy. You have a built-in friend/navigator in Siri and can now take screenshots all you want. I love screenshots. 

But besides all the fun that comes with your new phone, know that it's a tool that will aid in your safety and our peace of mind (Occasionally it will aid in our meddling, but only the good kind that good parents do even when they have good kids). 

  
We'll talk about this when you get home from Tyler tonight, but who knows, since you have a smart phone, you may know about it before you get here. 

Love, 

Mom

  

I just slipped into my Danskin leggings. My meatball and rice supper stretched the limitations of my blue jeans, creating a red-lined indention across my waist. 

I like to be comfortable. 

That's probably the reason I don't ever wear high heels. My mother-in-law did talk me into buying a cute pair of black wedge shoes (see picture above). I should have known by their hot pink box with the word "Fergalicious"scrawled on the side that these shoes weren't for me. I'm a couple of inches taller in them but my happy scale dips quite a few points when my toes are squished inside. 

There are several other indicators that I might be a little bit spoiled when it comes to comfort. Between 74-76 degrees is the only "ok range" on the thermostat.  Anything above 76 makes me break out in a sweat...and I'm cranky. When the house (or car) sits at 73 degrees or less you can bet I'm asking Jason to "feel my nose" which will be cold to the touch. I have a heating pad on my lap now (on top of my Danskin leggings) to keep my body at the proper temperature. I've suggested to Jason that I'm reptilian, or at least cold-blooded. 

I keep Afrin (in its generic form) in my bathroom drawer for the first signs of nasal stuffiness. (Please kind readers, refrain from telling me the stuff is addictive thinking "she knows not what she does"...I know. And please don't try to tell my about the Neti pot or some other "all natural" remedy that will aid in nasal congestion.) I want to breathe, and my Afrin quickly and completely (though not permanently) clears my nasal passages so that I don't feel like I'm suffocating. 

In situations where physical comfort can't be found, I deal with it. I put 32 hours of discomfort behind my belt through the labor of having my first child. And I must say I was pretty tough and nice through the ordeal. I also suffer from migraines. I take a pill and hide in a dark room with my head under a pillow when I can. When I can't, I answer fourth grade math questions and pick my daughter up from theater practice. 

Just like ten year old Rylie belted out last night in the car 

I can do it

I can do it

I'll get through it

But I'm only human 

We do what we have to, but we all like our comfort. 

Not just physical comfort, but emotional ease too. When I can't find tranquility through my own effort I reach for it. 

I had someone ask me the other day what I did to combat stress.  I threw in prayer 

1. Because I do pray  

2. Because I was talking to a fellow minister's wife and I know it's the right answer 

In addition to, and sometimes in lieu of prayer, I spend time, energy and money attempting to remove emotional discomfort. I, in part, believe that a cold Dr Pepper will cure just about anything. Google is my frenemy that distracts me from my woes. I engage in retail therapy at Target or my favorite eating joint every now and and then. I text Jason, family members or my friends with my complaints expecting sympathy and encouragement. 

It's my desire that prayer and all these things will make me comfortable. 

I wish Google or one of my friends would remind me that, just maybe, discomfort serves a purpose. 

Discomfort makes us contemplate our situation. 

Is the discomfort suggesting necessary change?

Can the discomfort provide perspective as we're forced to look beyond our current circumstance?

Discomfort reminds us that we are limited in our abilities. 

Neither we nor our loved ones will be able to fix all the ills (physical and emotional). 

Discomfort can remind us "where our help comes from"

From the ends of the earth I call to you, I call as my heart grows faint; lead me to the rock that is higher than I. 

Psalm 61:2

We're promised comfort. 

It's just not like Afrin or that Molten Lava Cake dessert at Chilis. God is concerned with more than treating our symptoms or tickling our fancy. He's not a quick fix. His main goal isn't making us comfortable like your stretchy pants do. 

His work goes deeper. He doesn't always remove our pain, but instead enters it with us. Psalm 23 reminds us that his rod and staff are a tool of his comfort; a promise of his guidance "even though we walk through the darkest valley". 

God's promise is comfort IN our difficulties and discomforts, not always a removal from our trial. 

Psalm 119:49-51 ESV
Remember your word to your servant, in which you have made me hope. This is my comfort in my affliction, that your promise gives me life. 

 2 Corinthians 4:16-18 

That’s why we are not discouraged. No, even if outwardly we are wearing out, inwardly we are being renewed each and every day. This light, temporary nature of our suffering is producing for us an everlasting weight of glory, far beyond any comparison, because we do not look for things that can be seen but for things that cannot be seen. For things that can be seen are temporary, but things that cannot be seen are eternal.

Jason and I usually don't work on Friday. It's our favorite day of the week. This Friday all the kids are well. We had a fried oyster lunch in Bridge City... and a nap!  That hasn't been the only bright spot in our day. The sun presented itself right on time this morning and has shifted across the sky seldom interrupted by scattered dots of white clouds. I remarked today, "Life is good". 

Both birds and my windchimes are singing in agreement as I type. 

It's a spring kind of day in the middle of winter, but as we all know, cold days could easily be around the corner. I know winter; when branches outside the window are void of leaves or birdsong...or any kind of life. There are days when my soul feels just as bleak. I feel alone and as if worry is my closest companion. 

This time last February I'd lost three family members (two of them tragically) within a month. Hayden, our oldest, was recovering from a tough surgery.  We seemed to be surrounded by bad news. Some seasons are like that; like a walk in the wilderness. 

This past summer we traveled to Israel. Scripture I'd read about the wilderness came to mind as day after day we sat our feet on hard ground, much of it unlevel. Dust danced at our feet making its way inside our shoes, clinging to tired feet. 

I better understood the pilgrimage made by the Israelites. Though they were rescued from Egypt, fed manna and given protection, all these people of God could focus on were their seemingly barren surroundings. 

They hated the dry ground, but 

dry ground had been their salvation as they crossed the Red Sea; the waters not drowning them. 

They hated the wilderness. We do too. 

We forget that the wilderness is the place past enslavement and  just before the Promised Land. 

We also forget that we're not uncared for when all around us seems barren. 

By day the LORD went ahead of them in a pillar of cloud to guide them on their way and by night in a pillar of fire to give them light, so that they could travel by day or night. Exodus 13:21

  

While in Israel I snapped this picture of a desert thistle. It's been one of my favorite pictures I took out of a thousand. It reminds me of the beauty in lackluster places and that life is found in the desert. 

Be thankful for sunny days, but don't despair the wilderness. God is up to something. 

See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland. Isaiah 43:19

...Tell to the generation to come the praises of the LORD, And His strength and His wondrous works that He has done. Psalm 78:4

I stood in the corner of the room with my arms folded across my chest planning my next move. I felt I had little in common with these strangers in front of me, besides the footwear many of us sported, our Converse tennis shoes.

Do I walk up to someone and introduce myself, or do I pull up and share the YouTube video I watched earlier today where Jimmy Fallon plays Donald Trump getting a lesson on "losing with dignity" from the grown up cast of Full House?  I'm sure they could relate to Full House and everybody knows Donald Trump.

I choose a couch instead and begin to listen to conversations around me, waiting for the right moment to enter in. When did engaging become so unnatural?

I got to hang out with our church youth group last night. Out of a room full of them I only knew a handful, one being my daughter who was gracious enough to let me follow her around for the first thirty minutes. When did I become so irrelevant? More important, what could I pull from my bag of tricks used in previous interactions with teens with whom I have a good rapport?

Is loving on our youth population simply a menu item on "ways to serve", or all we all equipped for, and called to this ministry in some capacity?

How can we serve amongst the foreigners we call teenagers, our youth ?

We can be present and get involved. 

We can push a broom when more popcorn hits the floor than their mouths. We can work the Icee machine once a month. We can be chaperones for youth events. Shoot hoops with them or play a game of pool. We can make cookies or a snack.

We can suffer the awkwardness that sometimes comes from spending time talking to kids we don't know well. 

The perfect example came just last week when Hallie invited her friend to come along with her to her one and a half hour hair appointment. (She has a good friend). While Hallie was "getting pretty"  I proceeded to ask  Lilly (the friend) a slew of meaningless questions, mixing pieces of myself into the conversation.

If you could choose the style and color of one of the hairstylists in this salon for your own hair, which would it be?

Where's your family's favorite place to eat? (Me? I'm not a fan of buffet places.)

How are you feeling about Driver's Ed coming up? 

My hopes are that she enjoyed our conversation, but AT THE VERY LEAST, I hope our engagement has advanced from akward to annoying.  For some teens our attempt at conversation may make us sound like just another unrelatable adult. Still, kids could use another adult willing to make an investment in their life. Approach and be approachable even if you think your attempts are uninteresting.

Talking about necessary sensitive subject matters is another form of akward we can submit ourselves to. Some of these kids have some heavy stuff going on in their lives. They all face temptation regarding things that are difficult to talk about. Be willing to leave your comfort zone.

We can show genuine concern.

Maybe there are teens you worked with a few years ago in VBS when they were younger and friendlier. They were free in their sharing of hugs and questions. They may not be as free with their hugs and conversation these days, check on them anyway.

This also goes for that existing relationship you have with those teens with whose parents you go to Sunday school or sit by in church. Ask them how they're doing.

Show interest in the kids like the ones I encountered last night that I've never seen before. I don't know anything about them or their parents. Some were loud and, upon first impression, seemed like they were there for reasons other than making much of Jesus.

Though that should be our main reason for gathering together, I STILL frequently fail at accomplishing that goal within and outside the church walls. I can assuredly say I stunk at it on a regular basis when I was a teen.

If there's one period of life I'd be least willing to relive, it would be my teenage years. I didn't quite accept myself as I was, and was  sure that even my most faithful friends would drop me like a hot cake if they discovered my life was an act aimed to please the multitude of peers.

Teenage-hood can be a fragile time even for those who act like they think they're ten feet tall and bulletproof.

Many of them feel invisible at any given moment and then like a contemptible spectacle a moment later (even the ones with "good home lives").

We can love these kids just as they are. 

We can pray for the change God wants to bring in lives; those we've known from the cradle, those who think they've got this Christianity thing down, and those  who wear those big ear gauges that both me and grandma agree are just tacky.

We can treat them as church family. That's who they are. They're in our midst.  Let's be ready to care for them just the way someone cared for us when we were once foreigners.

Ask your youth leader for ways you can be involved with your youth.

Please share, inviting others to answer the call to care for these important members and potential members of our family of God. We can all play a part.