The older I get...

... the less I know.

Sometimes I feel like really knowing God is something that becomes more and more elusive as I age. The deeper I go with Him, the more I realize His vastness. And my limited understanding. It's exciting, but perplexing.

How can I be at this stage of my spiritual journey and still be getting such rapid fire deep truths? Because God is so endless that no matter how far we go with Him, there is always more. Lots more.

A new lesson in compassion

Ever notice how you have so much more to share when you study? Sometimes, I feel too empty to blog because I don't have a new insight. But I studied something this week that really struck me.

I read the book of Jude and then the commentary. The commentator talks about reaching others who are not living the life of a believer. He says we must distinguish between "those who are willful and those who are weak." He - Matthew Henry - encourages us to help the weak and guide those who want to make good choices, but fail. Most of us fall into the "weak" category, so that means we are to encourage each other within the body of believers and reach out to those who don't believe. It implies that the willful are not ready to make a change and while we can pray for them, we should focus on the weak. They are more open to truth and need our Christian compassion and guidance.

It's as if God is showing us priorities in ministry. Reach for the weak.

What if nobody shows up?

Have you ever prepared to host an event at your home? You know that the biggest part is cleaning your house, mowing the lawn, sweeping the porch and a thousand other things we all do (scrubbing the guest bathroom)to get ready. The food is next. Do I have everything I need? Cups, plates, ice, silverware? Are the leaves off of the driveway? Does the house smell clean and fresh? Are the fingerprints off the door?

This week, I was hosting a group at my house and as the arrival time approached, I raced around doing last minute touch ups. I glanced at the clock and it was time. No cars pulling in. I polished the front of the oven. I wiped down the refrigerator. Five minutes later. No one. I swept the kitchen floor again. I watered plants. No doorbell. I went outside and cleaned pollen off the porch furniture. Ten more minutes went by.

Nobody is coming, I thought. All of this work and no one cares. People don't love me. No one wants to come to my house. I feel lonely and unappreciated. OK - that's a bit overstated, but I did feel like it would have been nice if people had called earlier - before all of my hard work - and let me know they are standing me up!

Then God spoke to my heart. He said, "This is how I feel when you never show up for your quiet time. I'm ready. I've prepared. I can't wait for you to get here. I have things I want to say. But your car never pulls in my driveway. You just leave me standing there and I feel disappointed. I wonder if you care."

Eventually, my guests arrived. They were late, but they came - and stayed late. We had a wonderful visit and I enjoyed their company. I was so glad they came. While I was happy to have my house clean anyway, I was happier about the time I spent visiting with friends.

I think I got a glimpse of how Jesus feels about spending time with me. And I don't want to disappoint him.

Revisiting the Beatles

It's amusing to me that teenagers - like my daughter - feel like they discovered the Beatles. Since "Across the Universe" came out (the movie that ties Beatles songs together into a storyline), the young generation is obsessed with the Beatles. My daughter has the movie sound track in her car and all of her friends know every word of every song. Old news. I've known them for years.

This week, I was driving her car and listening to the CD. And reminiscing. I was in junior high when the Beatles first came to America and created a stir. Some of my friends in Tallahassee drove to Jacksonville to see the first Beatles tour. I heard all about the stories of their adventures and marveled that they got to see Paul in person. He was the cutest one, of course.

Looking back is so much different than living in the moment. When I was a kid, I heard the lyrics about the people living next door to the Yellow Submarine (how DOES that work?), and Lucy in the sky with diamonds, and the walrus and Eleanor Rigby died in the church and was buried along with her name. I didn't think much about it. Assumed some of it was written on drug trips and didn't really question it. Listening to the songs now, I wonder how we went from "I wanna hold your hand" to "he likes to keep his fire engine clean. It's a clean machine." And why were we so enamored with it all? What deep truths did we really gain?

The Beatles were a big part of my generation. They shaped fashion, music, culture. What if Jesus were that influential in our world today? Life would be very different. And "all the lonely people" would be gone.

Not Missing My Friends

Don't get me wrong. I really like my friends. But when everyone goes on Spring Break except me, I love it. Here's why:

1. Less traffic. I get to the office faster and then I get everywhere else faster. Nice.
2. Lines are shorter. Fewer people everywhere means shorter lines. Nice.
3. Fewer shoppers. The stores aren't as crowded and the merchandise isn't picked over. Nice.
4. Everything in the evenings is canceled because everyone is out of town. Except me. I'm home watching three nights of American Idol. Nice. (Except for Michael Johns, a real pro with a good voice, who was surprisingly eliminated tonight. If you are just getting back from the beach and haven't watched your Tivo of AI, sorry.)
5. It feels like summer. We stay up late and sleep in a bit. The weather is nice and the routine feels lazy. Nice.
6. Fewer phone calls. Fewer emails. Fewer demands. Fewer requests. Fewer "duties". It's all nice.

So, thanks for the week off at home. I didn't spend a lot of money. I didn't get sunburned. I didn't put lots of miles on my car or eat up a lot of gasoline. I didn't have to find someone to watch my hyper dog and I didn't put anything on my credit card. I didn't eat lots of junk food on the road and I didn't blow a stack of cash eating out every night.

Dave Ramsey would be proud.

Nice.

"Mean People S*ck"

Have you ever seen that bumper sticker? I have, and I've always wondered who in the world it was talking about. I really don't know any mean people, therefore I never understood the significance of the bumper sticker.

Until now. I met the person that bumper sticker was referencing. She was "mean-spirited", as my daughter put it. She was hostile. She was mad at the world and everyone in it. She yells at kids and she calls them names. Unfortunately, she is a teacher.

I've seldom been around someone who couldn't look me in the eye and showed disdain for everyone in the room. Part of me felt sorry for her. She must be miserable. The other part of me was furious because she had screamed at my child and been unfair and unreasonable. The mother in me won out. I couldn't maintain my sympathy for her angry life. She had attacked my child - and my husband and me, even questioning our parenting skills.

She made all of us hurt under her attack, but in the end, we won. We walked out of the room to a life of joy and peace and hope and love. She walked back to her classroom to stand in front of teenagers and belittle them because they can't learn from a teacher who won't let them ask questions.

I pictured her scowling at the class from the front of the room. And I thought, "I know a good bumper sticker for your bulletin board."