I love country music. I haven't always loved it; the twang used to bother me. Now I love it. If you have to be barreling down the LA freeway at breakneck speeds, sharing the road with two or three million other drivers, well, there's something comforting about having Martina McBride belting out "Ride" from the radio. Or Chely Wright singing "Shut Up and Drive". Or Blake Shelton mourning the loss of the woman he thought would never leave him as he goes "flyin' down the highway" looking for her.
Country songs tell stories about a different way of life - porch swings, pick up trucks, country roads. Broken hearts aren't unique to country people but nobody sings about them like country singers do. It's a far cry from life here in a big city. Oddly, although there are 52 radio stations in LA, there is only ONE country music station.* It went off the air for a while, "when the station's parent company decided that country was not the most lucrative format for ethnically mixed Los Angeles (this, despite that Los Angeles is reported to be one of the top markets for country music CDs and concerts)".
I, for one, am glad for a little bit of country in the city. May KKGO live long and prosper.
I stand corrected: KFROG is also present here in SoCal - and fortunately the two stations have commercials at different times!
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Monday, January 12, 2009
Give us THIS day...
As a teacher and a parent one of the things I've learned over time is the importance of teaching children how to solve problems. Instead of jumping in and giving them a solution or telling them what to do, it is far better to help them analyze the steps to solving it themselves. It starts when they are little and cleaning their room seems overwhelming to them. Helping them see that picking up the dirty laundry, then the books, then the toys, then making the bed are all manageable tasks in themselves. That impossible load of projects in high school or that research paper in college submits to the same process with the addition of budgeting time for each task and sticking to it.
Lately there have been a few problems that have cropped up in my own life that at first glance threaten to overwhelm me. I could see the "desired outcome" in each case but fell sadly short when looking at my own ability to achieve it. In some of the situations there really isn't anything I can DO to solve the problem but even praying for a solution seemed to require more faith than I possess. It occurred to me this morning that I need to back up and do the same thing I've preached to the kids for so long - one step at a time.
I don't have the wisdom to deal with some of the problems of life or the things my kids struggle with. I wish I could be the mom who always has the right answer or the woman who knows exactly how to deal with the renter who is out of work and can't pay the rent. But I can pray for the words to encourage today. I can pray for the wisdom to deal with that next phone call or that next situation. It occurred to me as I was mulling this over that that is exactly what Jesus taught us when He taught us to pray: "Give us this day our daily bread." He didn't say to pray for the ability to provide for our needs for the rest of our lives - He wants us to live in daily dependence on the Father's provision. He also said "Don't worry about tomorrow because tomorrow will have it's own share of problems." As we live this moment in faith and dependence on Him, He will tunnel the way through the problem. He doesn't even need me to figure out where that tunnel is leading!
My faith may not be big enough to move a mountain, but it is big enough to pray for that next spade-full of dirt.
Lately there have been a few problems that have cropped up in my own life that at first glance threaten to overwhelm me. I could see the "desired outcome" in each case but fell sadly short when looking at my own ability to achieve it. In some of the situations there really isn't anything I can DO to solve the problem but even praying for a solution seemed to require more faith than I possess. It occurred to me this morning that I need to back up and do the same thing I've preached to the kids for so long - one step at a time.
I don't have the wisdom to deal with some of the problems of life or the things my kids struggle with. I wish I could be the mom who always has the right answer or the woman who knows exactly how to deal with the renter who is out of work and can't pay the rent. But I can pray for the words to encourage today. I can pray for the wisdom to deal with that next phone call or that next situation. It occurred to me as I was mulling this over that that is exactly what Jesus taught us when He taught us to pray: "Give us this day our daily bread." He didn't say to pray for the ability to provide for our needs for the rest of our lives - He wants us to live in daily dependence on the Father's provision. He also said "Don't worry about tomorrow because tomorrow will have it's own share of problems." As we live this moment in faith and dependence on Him, He will tunnel the way through the problem. He doesn't even need me to figure out where that tunnel is leading!
My faith may not be big enough to move a mountain, but it is big enough to pray for that next spade-full of dirt.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Beauty or Blindness
It was a perfect spring day. The air was still and so soft it felt like a caress on my skin. The sky was blue, the sun shining and flowers blooming everywhere. Never mind that it was the day after Christmas and most of the country was locked in ice and snow. This is southern California and days like this are more the rule than the exception.
My Midwestern sensibilities, used to frigid temps at this time of year, are still not used to this glory and as Pete and I took our morning walk through the neighborhood I studied the faces of those we met to see if they, too, were glorying in the perfection of the morning. Everyone seemed preoccupied except for a single bike rider who pedaled along the street with a smile on her face. Perhaps it was due to some other cause - I don't know. I like to think she was enjoying the perfect morning, too.
A question that has been rattling around in my brain lately has to do with how we experience beauty. Is it possible to be surrounded by beauty and not even notice it? Shortly after this I received an email, one of those internet stories that goes around. I'm never sure if they are true or not and since this particular one was quite amazing, I checked it out on Snopes.com. Not only is it true, but I discovered that it didn't even tell half the story!
The story takes place in Washington, DC during the morning rush hour at one of the Metro stops. In an attempt to answer the question "What do people do when they encounter beauty in unexpected places?", the Washington Post had staged an experiment. They recruited Joshua Bell to get off the Metro train, position himself in the station and play his violin. They tried to figure out ahead of time what might happen and their predictions included trying to manage the crowds that they thought might congregate. So here's what happens: one of the greatest violinists in the world plays three of the most complex pieces of music ever composed on a $3.5 million Stradivarius, filling the Metro station with music for nearly an hour. Of the hundreds of people who passed during that time one man stopped to listen, one person recognized Joshua Bell and stopped and three different children tried to stop to listen but were hurried along by their parents. One person, stopped by a reporter and questioned later, could not even remember that someone had been playing the violin in the station.
The article that was written describing the experiment is archived at the Washington Post website. The title of the article is "Pearls Before Breakfast" and I highly recommend reading the entire article as the author won a Pulitzer Prize for the work. The interesting part is the evalution of the experiment - what does this really tell us? That we are oblivious of beauty? That the context of the beauty matters? Does it really tell us anything? Very thought-provoking writing.
Last night Pete, Becca and I went to Corona, CA, for a George Winston concert. The minute he touched the keyboard I was blown away by the beauty and complexity of his music. We've listened to his CDs for years but somehow hearing it "in person" is a different experience. Although the pleasure of the music is an experience, perhaps the greatest thing I carried away from the evening is a sense of awe at the things the human brain can do. I cannot imagine the neural connections that have to take place simultaneously for someone to produce that kind of music. Song after song on piano, guitar and even harmonica - all without a score, flowing out of his memory, controlling his muscles to produce that incredible music. I fall down in awe before a God that can create a talent like that. In all honesty, the ordinary things we do each day are no less wonder-full. Sometimes exposure to the greater wonder helps us extrapolate backwards to see the wonder of the lesser also.
Anne, lying in the sunshine on our balcony, just said, "Man, it is just perfect out here!" Time to grab my book and bask in the beauty. The economy may be crumbling and times are uncertain but there are still riches all around us. I give thanks to the Giver.
My Midwestern sensibilities, used to frigid temps at this time of year, are still not used to this glory and as Pete and I took our morning walk through the neighborhood I studied the faces of those we met to see if they, too, were glorying in the perfection of the morning. Everyone seemed preoccupied except for a single bike rider who pedaled along the street with a smile on her face. Perhaps it was due to some other cause - I don't know. I like to think she was enjoying the perfect morning, too.
A question that has been rattling around in my brain lately has to do with how we experience beauty. Is it possible to be surrounded by beauty and not even notice it? Shortly after this I received an email, one of those internet stories that goes around. I'm never sure if they are true or not and since this particular one was quite amazing, I checked it out on Snopes.com. Not only is it true, but I discovered that it didn't even tell half the story!
The story takes place in Washington, DC during the morning rush hour at one of the Metro stops. In an attempt to answer the question "What do people do when they encounter beauty in unexpected places?", the Washington Post had staged an experiment. They recruited Joshua Bell to get off the Metro train, position himself in the station and play his violin. They tried to figure out ahead of time what might happen and their predictions included trying to manage the crowds that they thought might congregate. So here's what happens: one of the greatest violinists in the world plays three of the most complex pieces of music ever composed on a $3.5 million Stradivarius, filling the Metro station with music for nearly an hour. Of the hundreds of people who passed during that time one man stopped to listen, one person recognized Joshua Bell and stopped and three different children tried to stop to listen but were hurried along by their parents. One person, stopped by a reporter and questioned later, could not even remember that someone had been playing the violin in the station.
The article that was written describing the experiment is archived at the Washington Post website. The title of the article is "Pearls Before Breakfast" and I highly recommend reading the entire article as the author won a Pulitzer Prize for the work. The interesting part is the evalution of the experiment - what does this really tell us? That we are oblivious of beauty? That the context of the beauty matters? Does it really tell us anything? Very thought-provoking writing.
Last night Pete, Becca and I went to Corona, CA, for a George Winston concert. The minute he touched the keyboard I was blown away by the beauty and complexity of his music. We've listened to his CDs for years but somehow hearing it "in person" is a different experience. Although the pleasure of the music is an experience, perhaps the greatest thing I carried away from the evening is a sense of awe at the things the human brain can do. I cannot imagine the neural connections that have to take place simultaneously for someone to produce that kind of music. Song after song on piano, guitar and even harmonica - all without a score, flowing out of his memory, controlling his muscles to produce that incredible music. I fall down in awe before a God that can create a talent like that. In all honesty, the ordinary things we do each day are no less wonder-full. Sometimes exposure to the greater wonder helps us extrapolate backwards to see the wonder of the lesser also.
Anne, lying in the sunshine on our balcony, just said, "Man, it is just perfect out here!" Time to grab my book and bask in the beauty. The economy may be crumbling and times are uncertain but there are still riches all around us. I give thanks to the Giver.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Get out of the box
Like most people, I am uncomfortable when I sense that other people are "putting me in a box" or giving me a "label". I guess none of us likes to feel that someone thinks they have us all figured out. It's an insult to think I've been oversimplified.
Recently I realized, however, that sometimes I am the worst culprit when it comes to putting me in a box. I don't know if it's a normal phenomenon that comes with getting older but I am becoming more aware of how often I do this to myself. There's a little verse in Jeremiah that may shed some insight on this increasing awareness.
Jeremiah 48:11 says: Moab has been at ease since his youth; he has also been undisturbed on his lees, neither has he been emptied from vessel to vessel, nor has he gone into exile. Therefore he retains his flavor, and his aroma has not changed. (NASB)
This verse describes people who haven't been "emptied from vessel to vessel" - forced to adapt to new situations and environments. The consequence of not having to adapt is that "he retains his flavor and his aroma has not changed". I'm sure there are lots of exceptions but I have noticed that people who haven't had to move, haven't traveled, haven't dealt with people of different ages and beliefs, haven't had their lives shaken up in one way or another (perhaps through difficult circumstances) can easily become inflexible and have set ideas about the way "things ought to be".
The move to California has been a "pouring from vessel to vessel" for me. In a totally new situation lots of things have been stirred up and I've noticed things about myself that I may not have noticed if we'd stayed put. One of the things I've noticed are some of the boxes I've put myself in, some of the labels I've stuck on myself and become comfortable with over the years. Labels do simplify life and they aren't all bad but sometimes they can get in the way of growth and creativity.
Here's an example: Lately I realized that I had put myself into a "frugal" box and that box was keeping me from enjoying something that God has recently lavished on me (via my dear husband). It's time to get out of that box, even if it's only occasionally, and to let my "flavor" and aroma be changed by being poured into a new vessel. Hopefully, new avenues of creativity, joy and blessing for others will result. After all, it's not really about me, it's about becoming everything God has in mind for me to be. And for that, I gotta get out of that box.
Recently I realized, however, that sometimes I am the worst culprit when it comes to putting me in a box. I don't know if it's a normal phenomenon that comes with getting older but I am becoming more aware of how often I do this to myself. There's a little verse in Jeremiah that may shed some insight on this increasing awareness.
Jeremiah 48:11 says: Moab has been at ease since his youth; he has also been undisturbed on his lees, neither has he been emptied from vessel to vessel, nor has he gone into exile. Therefore he retains his flavor, and his aroma has not changed. (NASB)
This verse describes people who haven't been "emptied from vessel to vessel" - forced to adapt to new situations and environments. The consequence of not having to adapt is that "he retains his flavor and his aroma has not changed". I'm sure there are lots of exceptions but I have noticed that people who haven't had to move, haven't traveled, haven't dealt with people of different ages and beliefs, haven't had their lives shaken up in one way or another (perhaps through difficult circumstances) can easily become inflexible and have set ideas about the way "things ought to be".
The move to California has been a "pouring from vessel to vessel" for me. In a totally new situation lots of things have been stirred up and I've noticed things about myself that I may not have noticed if we'd stayed put. One of the things I've noticed are some of the boxes I've put myself in, some of the labels I've stuck on myself and become comfortable with over the years. Labels do simplify life and they aren't all bad but sometimes they can get in the way of growth and creativity.
Here's an example: Lately I realized that I had put myself into a "frugal" box and that box was keeping me from enjoying something that God has recently lavished on me (via my dear husband). It's time to get out of that box, even if it's only occasionally, and to let my "flavor" and aroma be changed by being poured into a new vessel. Hopefully, new avenues of creativity, joy and blessing for others will result. After all, it's not really about me, it's about becoming everything God has in mind for me to be. And for that, I gotta get out of that box.
Monday, December 15, 2008
Common Grace
Once in a while God gives us the ability to see just how fragile life is and what an amazing gift it is to be blessed with another day of life. Last night I was thinking about that and when I opened my eyes this morning it was with the realization that I opened them to a new day only by the grace of God.
A year ago I would have been hard-pressed to give a definition to "common grace". It was a concept I was vaguely aware of but hadn't thought about a lot. Over the past year I have become much more conscious of the concept, having been instructed in and reminded of it numerous times. Common grace is "common" because it is grace that is showered on all people, regardless of their spiritual condition or their recognition of the Giver of this grace. Common grace includes things like God's providential care of His creation, His restraining of evil in the world, His allowing mankind to live together without total chaos and His many blessings given through the use of mankind's intelligence - science, medicine and technology. "God causes His rain to fall on the good and evil" is a recognition of common grace. Common grace is "grace" because it is something that is totally undeserved by the recipients. God gives it because He is a giver, not because we deserve it.
Of course in a world that doesn't recognize God, common grace is unheard of. Being materialists, most of us think it's our jobs that provide for our needs, not recognizing that our ability to work and our job itself is a gift of God. In manifold ways we ignore the ultimate source, giving credit to the "second causes".
The only sane and reasonable response to an awareness of common grace is thankfulness. There's a whole lot of sound theology in the three little words "count your blessings". So today I'm thanking God for the common grace He showers in my life - things like waking up healthy this morning, starting and ending each day in the arms of a good man who loves me, the love of my family, food in my cupboards and refrigerator, the rain He's causing to fall on LA today, the blessing of music that pours from my CD player at the touch of a button, the mail system and my computer that bring me greetings from beloved friends far and wide, safety on the LA freeways. Of course all of these blessings pale in comparison to the surpassing value of the UNcommon grace He has poured out on me in Jesus' atoning death on the cross. But they are still there, day by day reminding me that the One who spared not His own Son, but delivered Him up for us all, will with Him also freely give us all things.
An understanding of God's common grace helps me when times get tough. If my trust is in the Giver and not in the gift, my foundation is secure no matter what happens. "He does not fear bad news nor live in dread of what may happen, for he is settled in his mind that Jehovah will take care of him." (Psalm 112:7 Living Bible) The God who cares for the sparrows and lilies is also in sovereign control of my life. Life is much better when I spend it thanking God for His blessings than when I live in fear of losing them. May God open our eyes to His grace, common and uncommon.
A year ago I would have been hard-pressed to give a definition to "common grace". It was a concept I was vaguely aware of but hadn't thought about a lot. Over the past year I have become much more conscious of the concept, having been instructed in and reminded of it numerous times. Common grace is "common" because it is grace that is showered on all people, regardless of their spiritual condition or their recognition of the Giver of this grace. Common grace includes things like God's providential care of His creation, His restraining of evil in the world, His allowing mankind to live together without total chaos and His many blessings given through the use of mankind's intelligence - science, medicine and technology. "God causes His rain to fall on the good and evil" is a recognition of common grace. Common grace is "grace" because it is something that is totally undeserved by the recipients. God gives it because He is a giver, not because we deserve it.
Of course in a world that doesn't recognize God, common grace is unheard of. Being materialists, most of us think it's our jobs that provide for our needs, not recognizing that our ability to work and our job itself is a gift of God. In manifold ways we ignore the ultimate source, giving credit to the "second causes".
The only sane and reasonable response to an awareness of common grace is thankfulness. There's a whole lot of sound theology in the three little words "count your blessings". So today I'm thanking God for the common grace He showers in my life - things like waking up healthy this morning, starting and ending each day in the arms of a good man who loves me, the love of my family, food in my cupboards and refrigerator, the rain He's causing to fall on LA today, the blessing of music that pours from my CD player at the touch of a button, the mail system and my computer that bring me greetings from beloved friends far and wide, safety on the LA freeways. Of course all of these blessings pale in comparison to the surpassing value of the UNcommon grace He has poured out on me in Jesus' atoning death on the cross. But they are still there, day by day reminding me that the One who spared not His own Son, but delivered Him up for us all, will with Him also freely give us all things.
An understanding of God's common grace helps me when times get tough. If my trust is in the Giver and not in the gift, my foundation is secure no matter what happens. "He does not fear bad news nor live in dread of what may happen, for he is settled in his mind that Jehovah will take care of him." (Psalm 112:7 Living Bible) The God who cares for the sparrows and lilies is also in sovereign control of my life. Life is much better when I spend it thanking God for His blessings than when I live in fear of losing them. May God open our eyes to His grace, common and uncommon.
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Totally Random....
Every blog-less day that goes by makes it easier to not blog. To get over that hurdle I am now going to blog, even if it is something totally inane. Somehow having this empty space before me intimidates me if I think about having to fill it with something significant. So here are a few random thoughts that have been bouncing around my head like pinballs.
Before my mom died, I remember her telling me one day that she would "give everything I own just to have all the grandkids little again for just a day or two". It surprised me at the time but I've thought about it many times since then, reflecting on just how precious those days were to her. Now that we have our own little grandson coming to visit Grandma and Grandpa and scooting around the house I can understand her. TeeTee has taught Micah several hand motions so that even though he can't talk, he can express certain things. The other day when he came over I was holding him, just enjoying the warmth of that little body in my arms. He put up with it for a minute and then he looked at me and used the hand motion for "Feed me!" I had to laugh - he already knows what Grandmas are supposed to do and he lost no time in reminding me. I thought of my mom and knew she would agree with Micah - that's what Grandmas are for.
How many of our memories are associated with the kitchen? At least in our family I know that many of them are. Anne made a reference this afternoon to my favorite hiding place for things I didn't want the kids to eat beforetime: the vegetable drawer. I knew if they went foraging for a snack they weren't likely to look in with the carrots, celery and half-withered apples so I would often slip something I was saving under the aforementioned items and could rest assured that it was safe there. I think it was only recently that I revealed that secret and I may yet regret spilling the beans on myself.
I find myself reflecting often on my place in the flow of generations. Hovering over my shoulder are the memories of my own parents and grandparents. In front of me are my children and grandchild. Definitely one of the benefits of being middle-aged.
Before my mom died, I remember her telling me one day that she would "give everything I own just to have all the grandkids little again for just a day or two". It surprised me at the time but I've thought about it many times since then, reflecting on just how precious those days were to her. Now that we have our own little grandson coming to visit Grandma and Grandpa and scooting around the house I can understand her. TeeTee has taught Micah several hand motions so that even though he can't talk, he can express certain things. The other day when he came over I was holding him, just enjoying the warmth of that little body in my arms. He put up with it for a minute and then he looked at me and used the hand motion for "Feed me!" I had to laugh - he already knows what Grandmas are supposed to do and he lost no time in reminding me. I thought of my mom and knew she would agree with Micah - that's what Grandmas are for.
How many of our memories are associated with the kitchen? At least in our family I know that many of them are. Anne made a reference this afternoon to my favorite hiding place for things I didn't want the kids to eat beforetime: the vegetable drawer. I knew if they went foraging for a snack they weren't likely to look in with the carrots, celery and half-withered apples so I would often slip something I was saving under the aforementioned items and could rest assured that it was safe there. I think it was only recently that I revealed that secret and I may yet regret spilling the beans on myself.
I find myself reflecting often on my place in the flow of generations. Hovering over my shoulder are the memories of my own parents and grandparents. In front of me are my children and grandchild. Definitely one of the benefits of being middle-aged.
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Captain O'Hara's Wisdom
Alhambra Public Library moved to a new building late this summer. Most moves precipitate housecleaning so there were tables of books for sale as they purged the shelves. I came across a book by one of my favorite authors, a book I hadn't read before, Green Dolphin Street by Elizabeth Goudge. It was published in 1944 and I was thrilled with the find. This was the book I was reading as we traveled last August.
During our trip we visited three of the places we've lived in the past - the farmhouse in Illinois, the rowhouse in Bochum and the apartment in Aachen. Visiting the very different places we've called home and seeing the people who were part of those lives was an unusual experience, perhaps because the visits came in such quick succession, giving almost a time-warp effect to our lives.
As we were traveling, visiting these stopping points of our lives, Captain O'Hara, a key figure in the book I was reading, spoke these words: "There's much that goes to the makin' of a man or woman into somethin' better than a brute beast, but there's three things in chief, an' them three are the places where life sets us down, an' the folk life knocks us up against, an' not the things you get in life but the things ye don't get." Those words haunted me as we were revisiting the 'places life had set us down' and the 'folk life had knocked us up against'. It was clear to see that those places and people truly had influenced who we had become.
And now it's been 14 months since we moved to California, the latest 'place where life has set me down' and I have to admit that I'm surprised at how difficult the adjustment has been for me. I guess I expected that within a year I would feel at home and like I fit in. The truth is, I don't. I've been struggling with this some and wondering about it. Perhaps my expectations were all wrong. If my life were a jigsaw puzzle then I expected that I'd dismantle the pieces of my life in Illinois and just put them back together out here in California. Of course I realized that many of the background pieces would have to change but I still expected that the main "picture" would be the same. Strangely, it seems that few of the pieces fit together any more. No matter how hard I beat on those pieces, they just don't seem to fit any more. I've gone from trying to MAKE them fit, to trying to figure out WHY they don't fit, to a slow realization that God in His infinite wisdom is in the process of making a whole new picture out of the old pieces. Perhaps Captain O'Hara would say this is one of those 'things ye don't get' that is going into the making of who I am.
I've been reading two books lately that have given me a new hope for the picture God will eventually make out of the jigsaw pieces of my life. The Holiness of God by R.C. Sproul and Living the Cross-Centered Life by C.J. Mahaney have challenged me to hope that the new picture won't be one of me at all, but a clearer picture of the cross and the One who died on it for me. I'm awed at the drastic measures God can take to dismantle the old so He can form the new. I have to agree with Captain O'Hara, that there is much that goes into the makin' of a man or woman - much more than we want to see sometimes. I'm grateful for God's sovereign grace over it all.
During our trip we visited three of the places we've lived in the past - the farmhouse in Illinois, the rowhouse in Bochum and the apartment in Aachen. Visiting the very different places we've called home and seeing the people who were part of those lives was an unusual experience, perhaps because the visits came in such quick succession, giving almost a time-warp effect to our lives.
As we were traveling, visiting these stopping points of our lives, Captain O'Hara, a key figure in the book I was reading, spoke these words: "There's much that goes to the makin' of a man or woman into somethin' better than a brute beast, but there's three things in chief, an' them three are the places where life sets us down, an' the folk life knocks us up against, an' not the things you get in life but the things ye don't get." Those words haunted me as we were revisiting the 'places life had set us down' and the 'folk life had knocked us up against'. It was clear to see that those places and people truly had influenced who we had become.
And now it's been 14 months since we moved to California, the latest 'place where life has set me down' and I have to admit that I'm surprised at how difficult the adjustment has been for me. I guess I expected that within a year I would feel at home and like I fit in. The truth is, I don't. I've been struggling with this some and wondering about it. Perhaps my expectations were all wrong. If my life were a jigsaw puzzle then I expected that I'd dismantle the pieces of my life in Illinois and just put them back together out here in California. Of course I realized that many of the background pieces would have to change but I still expected that the main "picture" would be the same. Strangely, it seems that few of the pieces fit together any more. No matter how hard I beat on those pieces, they just don't seem to fit any more. I've gone from trying to MAKE them fit, to trying to figure out WHY they don't fit, to a slow realization that God in His infinite wisdom is in the process of making a whole new picture out of the old pieces. Perhaps Captain O'Hara would say this is one of those 'things ye don't get' that is going into the making of who I am.
I've been reading two books lately that have given me a new hope for the picture God will eventually make out of the jigsaw pieces of my life. The Holiness of God by R.C. Sproul and Living the Cross-Centered Life by C.J. Mahaney have challenged me to hope that the new picture won't be one of me at all, but a clearer picture of the cross and the One who died on it for me. I'm awed at the drastic measures God can take to dismantle the old so He can form the new. I have to agree with Captain O'Hara, that there is much that goes into the makin' of a man or woman - much more than we want to see sometimes. I'm grateful for God's sovereign grace over it all.
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