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Let your life prove God to be true, and men to be liars

By the start of my junior year of high school, I was ready to be done with school. I had no plans for my future, no idea what job I’d do to support myself. I just wanted out. So, I took as few classes as possible so my day would end around noon. 

At the same time, my mother was encouraging me to pursue a career in art. All my life, she had pushed me to develop my artistic abilities. She especially thought I had a bent for design and wanted me to enroll in courses at the Corcoran Gallery in Washington DC.

So, I listened, and by the end of my junior year, I had a new vision for my life. Inspired by Peter Max and Andy Warhol, I wanted to become a commercial artist. So, I packed my senior courses with electives in art and design with a plan to eventually study art at the Corcoran. 

Then I got pregnant. 

And abortion sounded like the best option. And who would dare to deny a 17-year-old gifted artist the world that laid at her feet? 

Now, if you know a speck of my story, you know I walked out of that abortion clinic. And you know I married that baby’s father, Tim. But you may not know it was 50 years ago today that I gave birth to my daughter Kelly. Then two years later, her brother, Daniel was born. And my only regret? I didn’t have more kids.

The marriage was hard, really hard. But as I became more deeply rooted in my Christian faith, I clung to scripture for direction. I considered divorce many times, but kept coming back to the verse where Jesus said He hated divorce. 

And just when I was ready to quit, Daniel got arrested. And that forced Tim and me to come together and fight for our son. Again, I went back to the scripture where Jesus left the flock to go after the one. Which inspired Tim and me to buck up and stand by Daniel. So for the next 5 ½ years, every weekend, we laid our lives down and visited Daniel in prison. And when he got out, he never looked back.

Then after 38 years of marriage, Tim got cancer. And once again I was faced with a choice. Do I put my life on hold to care for him? I didn’t even wrestle with the decision. Again scripture led me to say, of course I will. Then all my thoughts and actions over the next 2 ½ years, centered on making Tim’s life the best it could be. And in the process, our marriage blossomed as we discovered a deeper love for one another. A love I never thought possible.

Now I wonder why I ever wrestled with God over choosing to lay my life down for others. Because these few crossroads of my life, have produced in me, the greatest satisfaction. 

Maybe that’s why parenting is so essential to our wellbeing. Maybe that’s why God consistently pushes us into situations like caring for the elderly. Maybe it’s the care giver who gets the most out of those situations. As the world tells me all the ways I am entitled to live my BEST LIFE, I think I’ll stick to what the bible says. And I’ll let what Paul said in Romans 3 prove my point:

            …let God be found true, though every man be found a liar…

When have you followed scripture when the world told you to do otherwise?

Start Heaven Today, Learn Something New

It started in my thirties. The need to push myself to see what else I could learn. I never wanted to settle. So I signed up for piano lessons with my kid’s teacher. Every week, with my music book tucked under my arm, I waited my turn to plink away. After four years, I wasn’t very good, but I proved to myself I could still learn new things.

That started a trend for the rest of my life. Every decade I would pick something new to learn.

In my forties, it was ballet. A friend of mine owned a studio in our town where most of her adult students had ballet experience. But as a kid, this tomboy never considered taking dance lessons. But every Monday for five years I stepped up to the barre and I plié’d. And to my surprise, I really liked ballet and wished I’d taken it when I was younger. 

When a move to Florida took me from the studio, and I faced another decade, I began to wonder what was next. Then in my early 50’s, my life began to unravel. Cancer took my husband Tim’s life leaving me in need of something to process my grief.

For years, Tim had begged me to get my motorcycle license. Ever since our teens, we had spent hours carving out turns on the country roads of Northern Virginia. 

So several months after his funeral, in the early morning dawn, I took my place on the motorcycle range. And for several weeks, I navigated shifting gears and slamming on the brakes and I got my motorcycle permit. 

For the next year, when the loneliness of Tim’s absence overcame me, I backed our bike out of the garage, and drove it around the lake near my home.  Once again I proved to myself that even in my 50’s, I could still learn something new.

Now in my late 60’s, the trend has not stopped. After years of being Tim’s carpentry assistant, I took on the task of renovating my little townhouse. Of course, my family helped, but I learned to cut my own angles on a chop saw as I hung my own trim. I learned to lay hardwood flooring and tile, all by myself. And the best part of all, I mastered the tape measure and all those insane sixteenths of an inch you need for fine art carpentry. 

It’s easy to grow old and think we know ourselves well. That we’re past the age to learn new things. But we humans are far more capable than we realize. Because our God created us to never stop learning new things.

I have a hunch that heaven will be much like this old earth. Only we’ll all have the benefit of endless time. 

So, what if the passions we have here on earth are what we take with us to eternity? What if we teach what we know to others? What if my ballerina friend teaches ballet classes there, and Tim teaches fine art cabinet making? What if one of the best parts of heaven is having endless time to learn and perfect new things? 

What have you not had time to learn that you wish would be there to learn in heaven?  Do you think I’m wrong? If so, tell me about it.

Be Prepared

I have a precious childhood memory of me in the back seat of my parents VW bug with my nose pressed against the glass as the Washington DC suburb of Arlington Virginia rolls by. My father is driving and my mother is in the front passenger seat. 

My mind is racing over something that happened the day before. And as I process the event, I begin to form sentence after sentence, with all the accompanying dialogue, as I ponder the best way to tell the “story” to my mother. Who at that time was my biggest fan.

Fast forward several years and I’m married to Tim. And one day he brings home our first personal computer, a Commodore 64. As he takes it out of the box and sets it on the table, he says, “Honey, I love all your stories. Please write them down.” Then for the rest of his life, he continues to shove the latest and greatest computer under my dancing fingers. 

I understand I’m a gifted story teller. But you must know, I don’t rest lightly on that gift. I study writing and I listen to critique. When I’m done typing, I read every word out loud, over and over as I pick them apart just like I did when I was a kid. 

What if I told you, as Christians, we are all supposed to be story tellers. Maybe not to the degree I am, but perhaps we shouldn’t rely completely on others to tell the greatest story we carry in our hearts. The one that tells how we came to the decision to follow Jesus.

I believe Peter’s directive in 1 Peter 3:15 commands us to ALWAYS have a story prepared to give a reason for the hope within us. As the world around us falls darker and darker, and Christianity gets attacked on all sides, our hope becomes the greatest tool we have to share the gospel.

I hear your sighs, and all the excuses. I hear you say you don’t know how to tell a compelling story, or you’re not good at it, or…STOP! Think about this, we don’t hesitate today to pull up a YouTube video to learn how to do just about anything we want to. And to our surprise, many of those tasks are often easier than we ever imagined. So why not use the same tools to learn how to tell a great story of hope? 

Do you need to boost your hope? Well, deeply reflecting on what Jesus has done in your life is the best place to start. So, get out your keyboard and write those moments down. Then get on line and learn basic story telling skills. 

Here’s a few of my favorite sites:

Junk and Passion Don’t Always Mix

Scan 3It wasn’t our finest moment. But truth be told, we had quite a few like it.

I could go into all the details. How Tim always wanted to build his own house. How it had to be on some land out in the country. How I let him talk me, and our preteen kids, into helping him do it. But that’s a story for another time.

But we did pursue his dream. And toward the end, we had a challenging piece of sheetrock that needed to be hung. Only it was on the ceiling, three stories up, over an open stairwell, at an angle, against a large support beam.

For days, I’d seen Tim’s mind struggle to figure out how the four of us could balance on his hand made scaffold. How the kids and I could hold a 12-foot, 40lb board, while he screwed it into place.

But we gave it our best shot. Tim lectured us on his strategy. The four of us teetered on six-inch boards, high above the basement floor. With creative positioning, we finally got it in place. But when Tim let go to put in the first screw, our strength gave way, and the sheetrock slid down the beam.

We regrouped and tried again. But the same thing happened. Not once, not twice, but three, four, or maybe five times. Tim’s frustration grew. About the sixth time I yelled, “I quit!”

Grateful we’d driven separate cars; I stormed out of the house and stirred up gravel as I tore down the driveway.

The kids later told me how Tim picked up that piece of sheetrock and hurled it into the wall of brick that made up our fireplace. Then he followed my footsteps, leaving our kids stranded out in the middle of nowhere.Cannon Bluff

But, you know we both came back. And we did figure out a simple plan. Tim taught Daniel, who was the smallest, to use the screw gun. Then with Tim’s strength, we held the board in place while Daniel attached it to the beam.

If you’d been there, you’d have thought we were nuts. And we probably were. Cause Tim and I were horrible at problem solving. In fact, for 38 years we did just about everything wrong you can do in a marriage.

But if you ask our children today what they saw, they will both tell you, “A love story.”

Cause sometimes passion has an ugly side. And sometimes we bring a lot of junk into a marriage. And when that junk mixes with our passion, explosions take place.

But before you call it a day, or you think you’re saving your kids from the ugly, think again. Cause sometimes, love just doesn’t make any sense.

We lived in that house for 18 years. And the whole time there was a white swatch of sheetrock embedded deep into the brick.

Now I don’t advocate letting our passions run amuck. But I also don’t advocate using them as an excuse to call it quits. Problem solving can take many paths. But the clear path should always be the one that keeps the family working together.

Daniel Cannon bluff

 

 

 

 

He Cut Up That Car

Suzuki2It sat in our yard for years. And it drove me nuts. Tim’s pension for keeping cars long after they were of any use was the source of many an argument. If it didn’t run, I wanted it gone.

But I never imagined the old Suzuki Samurai would come to its end this way. But to hear Daniel tell the story, you’d be in stitches.

That’s right, cause they cut up that car. It became a challenge to get the pieces small enough to spread them out in dumpster all over town. And all these years later, Daniel can tell you where every piece went.

“Mom, we put the transmission in the dumpster behind the 7-11 on Liberia. And the drive train went in the one behind Osbourn Park High School…”Suzuki1

I could just imagine them, laughing all the way to their next destination. Pleased with themselves for the clever way they went about making mama happy.

They had the time of their lives, and they did it their way. Now you can lecture all you want on the rights and wrongs of what they did. But on this anniversary of what would be Tim’s 62nd birthday, I’m grateful my son has such a crazy memory of his father.

And just last week, Kelly and I were talking about that ridiculous Suzuki and how Tim and Daniel chose to dispose of its parts. And she said, with tears in her eyes, “If I had it to do over again, I’d have cut it up with them.”

Sheik Tim 8-4-01“Me too Kelly, me too.”

Cause sometimes, life needs to be a little crazy. And sometimes it’s good to challenge societal pretenses. And sometimes, it’s worth it to ignor what’s considered proper.

Tim beat to his own drum. And many times, he needed to rein it in and follow some rules. But just as many times, I needed to relax and go with the flow. If for nothing else, but to create a lasting memory in the hearts of our children.

Happy Birthday Tim. You left an impression on us that I’m grateful will never go away.

So my friends, what adventure do you need to join in on? Go ahead, throw caution to the wind, and do something crazy.