The Score

When I'm watching my team play ball, I get frustrated when the scorekeeper messes up. When they add the latest goal/run/etc. to the wrong team, I want to be sure it gets fixed. I want the score to be right, especially for my team.

You would expect the pros never to mess this up, but I've even seen it happen at that level. But there is one score that will be accurate for sure, that's the one God is keeping.

We might think it's wrong. We might think he's missed something, because we sure keep it differently.

We notice all kinds of wrongs that we want tallied. But if forgiveness has been granted, those scores are cleared. We have to let go, whether its us or someone else.

I've done a lot of ministry that seems wasted, unaccounted for, off the scoreboard. It's not on any earthly tally. But God is keeping score.

That gives me remarkable comfort.

It's just as remarkable that there is any score at all, that I haven't canceled out any accomplishments with all the missed opportunities and mangled attempts. That's where forgiveness comes in.

Some days I wish the score were as clearly posted as a flashing Jumbotron. But most of the time, I'm sure I'm glad it's not.

I imagine in heaven somehow finding out our true "score" will neither give us reason to boast or to be ashamed. Mostly importantly I am simply glad that Jesus said even a cup of cold water will not lose its reward. That means that no service done in the name of Jesus will be wasted. That is Kingdom economy, and I am grateful.

Judging

Imagine if I took all the energy I spend judging other people, deciding how they should use their resources, time and creativity, how much I could accomplish? Not just this week when writing, but all the time.

Jesus said judge not lest you be judged, so I am also inviting a lot of judgment onto myself.

I don't think of people as evil, mostly simply misguided. If only they would make the wise choices I make. If I bothered to turn this lens of correction on myself, I would quickly draw back in horror.

Part of me thinks it unwise to post such a confession. The part of me that insists I do so hopes for the redirection that can emanate from transparency about one's shortcomings. What an understated word for sin.

God is in the Details

When I said I wasn't bringing chocolate, I mentioned Dove Dark Promises...those were offered after lunch today.

Something even more important happened before lunch.

We are using the Divine Hours, which is a prayer guide. For Morning Prayers, Midday Prayers, Vespers and Compline a combination of readings and prayers are given. At the end, there is a prayer for the week, which is the same every day of this given week. Then we take a moment for personal prayers. Then we close with the concluding prayer, which is not the same every day.

Today before lunch I learned my son is trying out tonight for his college club baseball team. My daughter is in the midst of trying to get accommodations for her GRE. So during our prayer time, I shared a general prayer for my family that God would grant them favor.

After I prayed, I felt self-conscious. I still struggle with praying for favor. Does that mean I want God to like me or my children more than others? I wondered if the people I was praying with thought it was acceptable to pray for favor.

Then we prayed the final prayer for the midday. And it started like this:
"Direct me, O Lord, in all my doings with your most gracious favor, and further me with your continual help..."

The prayer went on, but I couldn't. Once I read the word favor, in this particular prayer, in a book with different prayers four times a day each day of the year, I was too moved to continue. God obviously wanted me to be reassured.

Back in my room I decided to look up the occurrences of favor in the Bible. A survey showed me that although God does not show favoritism, and doesn't want us to, especially to the rich, asking for favor is not selfish or disdained.

What is more, the angels announced on the night of Jesus birth, "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to all on whom His favor rests." The coming of Christ brought us all favor.

So Lord, I pray without self-consciousness, direct me and my husband and my children with your most gracious favor.

And thank you that you can speak directly to me, through the Bible and through other books, just at the point of need.

Another Safety Net

So I decided not to bring chocolate. They have chocolate here, so that is covered.

What I forgot to bring was my bathroom bag. Packed it, the suitcase didn't have room, left it on the bed.

I'm only ten minutes from home. I didn't discover the missing items until bedtime. I didn't want to leave the retreat center. I really want to be away, even though I could drive home and get my stuff, I didn't want that distraction, or the temptation to do it again the next time something was missing, something probably less essential than my toothbrush.

Roger brought it to me this morning. God is my ultimate safety net, but Roger is my earthly counterpart. Thanks, dear.

No Safety Net

Often when I travel I take along comfort items.

Food, especially chocolate. If I'm staying in a room alone, perhaps a movie to watch.

This afternoon I leave for a writer's retreat. Our days have a rhythm of worship, writing time, meals and evening feedback sessions.

I am not taking a safety net. No movies. No extra food, I will just eat what is available. Not even any chocolate. Ouch.

I want to be fully present for what God has for me. I want to rely on God's promises more than a Dove dark promise. I look forward to what will unfold.

Connecting

I first signed up for Facebook to connect with our other women pastors. My children were mortified because they feared my intrusion into their world. I have made some faux pas along the way, but hopefully have learned how to enjoy seeing some of their adventures without prying into their business.

Meanwhile, having started on Facebook, besides my pastor friends I have reconnected with childhood and high school friends. This is especially meaningful as my son is now attending college in my hometown.

Friends from my past have been fun to chat with, and even to discuss deep life issues. Conversations we may have never had as young folks now reach new dimensions as adults.

This week the interchange between two high school friends brought my friend Dona to mind. She and I were best friends as children, hopping the neighbor's fence to cut through between our houses. We lost touch as I went to junior high first but reconnected at a recent high school reunion. The day after I thought of her, she commented on my wall and we had a nice live chat.

Our college age sons sound similar. We are both seeking a quiet place with God. After all these years and life experiences we can still connect.

CS Lewis liked to remind us that we are eternal beings. It might seem like nations and civilizations outlast individuals, but in reality long after Rome is dust and the US lies in ruins we will still exist.

Any one we know on this earth we may have the opportunity to spend eternity with. When you consider that, it makes our relationships here even more valuable. Think about that the next time you push that friend button.

Home

Real Simple asked readers what Home means. I contemplated this a lot when I moved to Cincinnati. I certainly didn't feel home here at first. But was home back in Lexington, or in Jackson where my parents were from, where our roots dug even deeper?

Here are my definitions of Home:
Home is where you can walk in the door without knocking, and just holler "Hello" or say nothing.
Home is where you can peer into the cabinet or refrigerator and be welcome to eat what you find.
Home is where there is a bed to welcome you for the night if you need it.

By these definitions before my previously nomadic brother really had a home of his own, he could be home at our house. And now I can be home at his house in Santa Barbara, or at Nora's in Baltimore, and my aunt Jackie's in Jackson.

Home is created by the hospitality of those who live there. So when we say Home is where your heart is, we are acknowledging that home is with those you love.

And so someday, I will step into an eternal home, and I can just walk in, find food and rest, and the main reason it will feel like Home is the presence of Jesus.

Can hardly wait. Meanwhile, I hope I can be home for others, the basketball boys who need a drink of water, and my own children when they return from their journeys for a taste of home.

Want Eight?

In case someone is still wondering the mystical meaning of 8, whether it's more than just the Twelve Days of Christmas claiming that the eight maids of milking refer to the 8 beatitudes...no, it's nothing deep or spiritual at all. It doesn't even matter to most of the world.

But if you're from Lexington, and your Kentucky Wildcats basketball team has previously won 7 national championships, then you Want Eight!

Prayer Works

Prayer works. OK, so I shouldn’t be surprised. Studies done on patients show that those with prayer support recover better from surgeries. I know this. God is the master healer, he made our bodies to heal, and I am not surprised when that happens. But sometimes I stand amazed at how prayer works.

This week I drove my oldest daughter Nora to Baltimore to move into her home for the next year. Our youth pastor Randall helped us make the trip, then connected with his wife who was visiting her mother in the suburbs of Baltimore.

On the way to Nora’s house, we had to take a block detour around a crime scene. Randall helped me carry a dresser to Nora’s room before I drove him to see his wife Destiny. As we pulled away, Randall, who grew up in the hood in California, asked me, “How do you feel about Nora living there?”

If Nora had chosen to live in Sandtown with some friends because it is cheap rent, I would be terrified. But Nora is living with three young women who have chosen to be part of New Song, a community development project based on the John Perkins model. The church building is on Nora’s block. Next door is another church family. On the other side is a coffee house run by church folks. The next block has been totally remodeled by the church’s Habitat project.

The morning I left we had breakfast in the coffee shop next door. The owner showed me an article in the local magazine about him and his business partner, two men who grew up in Sandtown, and used to run the drug scene. Now Gerry is pushing coffee, hot fries for students, and Jesus. I told him to watch out for my daughter, and I know he will.

As I drove away that morning I expected to be devastated, broken hearted at leaving my first-born behind, and anxious about her welfare. I expected to cry all the way to pick up Destiny and Randall.

Didn’t happen. I called Liza, she had been praying for me, and I knew that my peace was supernatural. I had been prayed for. Nora is living with a purpose in that neighborhood, and God will protect her. I will still miss her, but I enjoyed a wonderful visit getting her settled, and feel welcome to return.

Of course I know that prayer works. But when it touches me in a way that I do not expect, I am amazed. As I wrote previously about dropping Luke at college, God cares about us even in the details. He is watching over Luke, and Nora, and he even cares enough to comfort me.