Scripture: Ps 37:1-42; Daniel 5:13-30; 1 John 5:13-21;
Scripture standout: Daniel 5: 23 "You praised the gods of silver and gold, of bronze, iron, wood and stone, which cannot see or hear or understand. But you did not honor the God who holds in his hand your life and all your ways."
Morning thoughts: I did some writing work for a public relations firm several years ago. They specialized in marketing homebuilders and real estate companies — back when selling a $3 million mansion with all the granite countertops and stainless steel appliances was like selling hotdogs. You should have read some of the press releases I had to write for these homebuilders. "You'll love the luxurious feel of the wall-to-wall wool carpeting massaging your feet and the alluring glow of the ridiculously expensive tile in the six-bedroom, eight-bathroom Stella Luna model home in the glorious community of Brigadoon." People ate it up.
The feast didn't last long.
Thursday, May 12, 2011
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Day 63
Scripture: Ps 38; Ps 119:25-48; Daniel 5:1-12; 1 John 5:1-12; Luke 4:38-44
Scripture standout: Luke 4: "38 Jesus left the synagogue and went to the home of Simon. Now Simon’s mother-in-law was suffering from a high fever, and they asked Jesus to help her. 39 So he bent over her and rebuked the fever, and it left her. She got up at once and began to wait on them."
Morning thought: Wow, that mother-in-law is tough tamales. If I had the fever, had a miraculous healing and was well again — I can tell you I'd be taking a long rest, or being careful with my new healthful self or perhaps even calling everyone to gab about what had just happened. I'd enjoy my last moments in my robe and probably ask for a few more items of comfort before I got back into my routine. I might even toast my new condition with a cold glass of bubbly. This is terrible, but sometimes being sick is like being on a forced vacation. I don't wish illness on myself in any form, but when I have a high fever and have to say in bed it is often a nice little break. I ain't waiting on nobody no how — even when the fever leaves me.
And here's this woman. She has a high fever, she's healed, she "gets up at once," and resumes waiting on people. She was touched by an encounter with God. Her immediate response was to serve. Could serving others possibly be a way of being thankful? Is that what she was trying to do — is that why her story is told? Is she an example? Her story gives deeding another perspective — Even when God pulls you back from the brink of death and makes you well again, don't dawdle. Serve. Should it be that instinctive?
Maybe it is — maybe it's already happening. Most moms do this every single morning, and throughout each day. And sometimes, it ain't service with a smile. Wake up, brush your teeth — serve. Serve breakfast. Serve a personal wake-up call. Serve some frantic instructions on getting ready to go. Serve a ride to school. Serve up a can of whoop @#$ if someone forgot their lunch. Serve others through work or chores, or participate in some community service, until pick-up. Serve as taxi driver until dinner is served. Serve everyone a stern warning homework should be the first thing they do — not the last. Be a servant to exhaustion and hit the hay.
Scripture standout: Luke 4: "38 Jesus left the synagogue and went to the home of Simon. Now Simon’s mother-in-law was suffering from a high fever, and they asked Jesus to help her. 39 So he bent over her and rebuked the fever, and it left her. She got up at once and began to wait on them."
Morning thought: Wow, that mother-in-law is tough tamales. If I had the fever, had a miraculous healing and was well again — I can tell you I'd be taking a long rest, or being careful with my new healthful self or perhaps even calling everyone to gab about what had just happened. I'd enjoy my last moments in my robe and probably ask for a few more items of comfort before I got back into my routine. I might even toast my new condition with a cold glass of bubbly. This is terrible, but sometimes being sick is like being on a forced vacation. I don't wish illness on myself in any form, but when I have a high fever and have to say in bed it is often a nice little break. I ain't waiting on nobody no how — even when the fever leaves me.
And here's this woman. She has a high fever, she's healed, she "gets up at once," and resumes waiting on people. She was touched by an encounter with God. Her immediate response was to serve. Could serving others possibly be a way of being thankful? Is that what she was trying to do — is that why her story is told? Is she an example? Her story gives deeding another perspective — Even when God pulls you back from the brink of death and makes you well again, don't dawdle. Serve. Should it be that instinctive?
Maybe it is — maybe it's already happening. Most moms do this every single morning, and throughout each day. And sometimes, it ain't service with a smile. Wake up, brush your teeth — serve. Serve breakfast. Serve a personal wake-up call. Serve some frantic instructions on getting ready to go. Serve a ride to school. Serve up a can of whoop @#$ if someone forgot their lunch. Serve others through work or chores, or participate in some community service, until pick-up. Serve as taxi driver until dinner is served. Serve everyone a stern warning homework should be the first thing they do — not the last. Be a servant to exhaustion and hit the hay.
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Day 62
Scripture: Ps 26, 28, 36, 39; Daniel 4:28-37; 1 John 4:7-21; Luke 4:31-37
Scripture standout: Ps 39: "6 “Surely everyone goes around like a mere phantom;
in vain they rush about, heaping up wealth
without knowing whose it will finally be.
Scripture standout: Ps 39: "6 “Surely everyone goes around like a mere phantom;
in vain they rush about, heaping up wealth
without knowing whose it will finally be.
1 John: 4: "20 Whoever claims to love God yet hates a brother or sister is a liar. For whoever does not love their brother and sister, whom they have seen, cannot love God, whom they have not seen.
Morning thoughts: I feel fortunate that I don't hate my brother or any of my siblings-in-law. Mild annoyances? Sometimes. But hate — never. I do remember fighting a lot with my brother growing up. Not only did we argue and call each other awful things, but we also fought in very physical ways. This drove our poor mother crazy. One afternoon, we were literally rolling around on the living room floor — grabbing hair, pounding each other, screaming out for mom to intervene and punish the evil-doer. Our mom, the ultimate peace-maker and lover of all things quiet and lovely, probably couldn't take one more minute of us. We heard the engine of her two-tone Oldsmobile station wagon roar to life. As we scrambled to the window, we caught a glimpse of the yellow and brown wagon fishtailing out of the driveway and away into the solace of the neighborhood streets. That ended that.
This verse from 1 John was probably ringing through her head. I hope it reverberates through mine today as I struggle to love all the "brothers and sisters" I see today. Sounds like I can't love the Big Guy very effectively without doing it.
The Deed/The Day: Ah, to have it all done by 1:30. I woke up to an email about Tacos for Tuscaloosa, which was so inspiring. A mother at RPDS organized a fundraiser event to raise money for Tuscaloosa, which has been hit hard by the tornadoes and storms. I believe she has siblings who live in the area. Instead of just watching and tsking, this mom took action — prayerfully and mightily. She went for the whole enchilada! I read an excerpt from an email she sent to some of the organizers about the planning. Wow. What a gift to see how God works through people for the good of others. This is how things work when you let go and let God. Below is a planning email from this angel of a deeder:
Isn't that amazing?!?
So today's deed was two-fold: I continued my volunteer work with the foundation coming up with an effective education grant. And before it got too far down on my to-do list, I wrote birthday thank you notes...email style. I know it's not kosher, but they're done and hopefully my friends know how appreciative I am for their companionship and time. I am a big proponent of writing thank you notes, or at the very least (like me), acknowledging thanks with givers directly. Giving is a deed, and so is thanking, I think.
Morning thoughts: I feel fortunate that I don't hate my brother or any of my siblings-in-law. Mild annoyances? Sometimes. But hate — never. I do remember fighting a lot with my brother growing up. Not only did we argue and call each other awful things, but we also fought in very physical ways. This drove our poor mother crazy. One afternoon, we were literally rolling around on the living room floor — grabbing hair, pounding each other, screaming out for mom to intervene and punish the evil-doer. Our mom, the ultimate peace-maker and lover of all things quiet and lovely, probably couldn't take one more minute of us. We heard the engine of her two-tone Oldsmobile station wagon roar to life. As we scrambled to the window, we caught a glimpse of the yellow and brown wagon fishtailing out of the driveway and away into the solace of the neighborhood streets. That ended that.
This verse from 1 John was probably ringing through her head. I hope it reverberates through mine today as I struggle to love all the "brothers and sisters" I see today. Sounds like I can't love the Big Guy very effectively without doing it.
The Deed/The Day: Ah, to have it all done by 1:30. I woke up to an email about Tacos for Tuscaloosa, which was so inspiring. A mother at RPDS organized a fundraiser event to raise money for Tuscaloosa, which has been hit hard by the tornadoes and storms. I believe she has siblings who live in the area. Instead of just watching and tsking, this mom took action — prayerfully and mightily. She went for the whole enchilada! I read an excerpt from an email she sent to some of the organizers about the planning. Wow. What a gift to see how God works through people for the good of others. This is how things work when you let go and let God. Below is a planning email from this angel of a deeder:
"After many phone calls around town to get a good price on tacos...I came to the conclusion that I was just going to have to brown 50 lbs. of beef for 400 tacos!
God says to ask him specifically for our needs...SO I DID.
I asked Him, for a .50 cent taco...toppings and ALL.
I had already gotten two estimates: One for $1.5 a taco and one for $1.00 a taco. NO GO.
GUESS WHAT HAPPENED TODAY?...
***_____ called with a connection from LaNapolera and said they could give us beef, shells, cheese, lettuce and sour cream and salsa for .50 a taco!
God is MY ENCHILLADA! :)
I have made a sign and am going to pick up the meat/ toppings tomorrow at 10:00 from the Kingsley LaNapolera.
• would someone want to get some balloons? My Banner is turquoise and Yellow/ table cloths are RED. • I need volunteers at school to put together the tacos...lets say 11:00. Lunch starts at 11:25 and all we are doing is spooning beef into the bottom of shell. • There will be tables set up and I have red table cloths, plates, and napkins. • As volunteers, all we are going to do is spoon the toppings on for the kids...
VOILA...NOT HARD AT ALL! Let me know if I have forgotten something.
Isn't that amazing?!?
So today's deed was two-fold: I continued my volunteer work with the foundation coming up with an effective education grant. And before it got too far down on my to-do list, I wrote birthday thank you notes...email style. I know it's not kosher, but they're done and hopefully my friends know how appreciative I am for their companionship and time. I am a big proponent of writing thank you notes, or at the very least (like me), acknowledging thanks with givers directly. Giving is a deed, and so is thanking, I think.
Monday, May 9, 2011
Day 61
Scripture: Ps 25, 9, 15; Daniel 4:19-27; 1 John 3:19—4:6; Luke 4:14-30
Scripture standout: Ps 25: "8 Good and upright is the LORD; therefore he instructs sinners in his ways. 9 He guides the humble in what is right and teaches them his way."
Morning thoughts: This thought is relieving — and scary! There are many days l feel like I have humility nailed! But often I'm not sure if my humility is something else — perhaps it's better desribed as self-deprication, disorganized-ness or laziness. Sometimes I wonder if I am confusing my desire to be humble and follow the plan I know God has marked for me, with being too reactionary, or impulsive or disorganized. I am terrible about keeping a calendar and making long-term plans and keeping a budget. I'd rather go with what feels right. So how do I balance letting go, throwing my hands up and releasing control of my life to God with being an interactive participant? What does humility really mean?
Being humble comes easier for some than others. I think I fall on the side of "letting go and letting God," but I also believe that comes from a personal deficiency of wanting to be the passenger, not the engineer. It's in my DNA. Person men, like my father and his brothers, are often described as "like nailing jello to the wall." That's me sometimes. I want someone else to be in charge, so a complete dependence on God resonates. I have plenty of friends, however, who are completely opposite. I was talking to one friend just the other day who has every life detail planned and prescribed. There are no surprises for this buddy — she even dictates which gifts people should give her for various life celebrations. Another friend has such a desire to be personally sure of every decision's "best answer" that she studies, scrutinizes and analyzes her way into a complete frenzy.
I don't know the best path to humility. But it sounds like this is an important part of hearing God's direction.
The Deed/The Day: So I spent the first half of the day working until I could justify a trip to the mall to get my Mother's Day/Birthday present from David — the iPhone 4. That wasn't very conducive for seeking others' needs — far, far from it. The "genius" I got stuck with was hardly that — he had to keep going to the back to see if someone could help him figure it out. Ugggh. As much as I reminded myself to be a good, deeding, patient customer — I just. Couldn't. Do it. Genius...not...geesh!
Of course, the rest of the day was a blur and I found myself back at the house ready for bed, coffee made, lunch boxes packed staring at my computer screen. I resorted to another note of thanks via email. Low, low, low-hanging fruit. This time, the victim was Ben's trumpet teacher, Cliff Newton. Poor Mr. Newton. He is such a big teddy bear of a patient person with ears of steel. Today he hosted Ben and two other boys to a group rehearsal for their big band concert tomorrow night. Ben's trumpeting is not altogether — pleasant. Yet. His songs are consistently punctuated by wheezing, whooping screetches. Spit flies. Some songs might sound better if they're played on a chalk board. But Ben is inarguably getting better and better and he really seems to enjoys it. So I let Mr. Newton know how much his influence and instruction are appreciated.
Scripture standout: Ps 25: "8 Good and upright is the LORD; therefore he instructs sinners in his ways. 9 He guides the humble in what is right and teaches them his way."
Morning thoughts: This thought is relieving — and scary! There are many days l feel like I have humility nailed! But often I'm not sure if my humility is something else — perhaps it's better desribed as self-deprication, disorganized-ness or laziness. Sometimes I wonder if I am confusing my desire to be humble and follow the plan I know God has marked for me, with being too reactionary, or impulsive or disorganized. I am terrible about keeping a calendar and making long-term plans and keeping a budget. I'd rather go with what feels right. So how do I balance letting go, throwing my hands up and releasing control of my life to God with being an interactive participant? What does humility really mean?
Being humble comes easier for some than others. I think I fall on the side of "letting go and letting God," but I also believe that comes from a personal deficiency of wanting to be the passenger, not the engineer. It's in my DNA. Person men, like my father and his brothers, are often described as "like nailing jello to the wall." That's me sometimes. I want someone else to be in charge, so a complete dependence on God resonates. I have plenty of friends, however, who are completely opposite. I was talking to one friend just the other day who has every life detail planned and prescribed. There are no surprises for this buddy — she even dictates which gifts people should give her for various life celebrations. Another friend has such a desire to be personally sure of every decision's "best answer" that she studies, scrutinizes and analyzes her way into a complete frenzy.
I don't know the best path to humility. But it sounds like this is an important part of hearing God's direction.
The Deed/The Day: So I spent the first half of the day working until I could justify a trip to the mall to get my Mother's Day/Birthday present from David — the iPhone 4. That wasn't very conducive for seeking others' needs — far, far from it. The "genius" I got stuck with was hardly that — he had to keep going to the back to see if someone could help him figure it out. Ugggh. As much as I reminded myself to be a good, deeding, patient customer — I just. Couldn't. Do it. Genius...not...geesh!
Of course, the rest of the day was a blur and I found myself back at the house ready for bed, coffee made, lunch boxes packed staring at my computer screen. I resorted to another note of thanks via email. Low, low, low-hanging fruit. This time, the victim was Ben's trumpet teacher, Cliff Newton. Poor Mr. Newton. He is such a big teddy bear of a patient person with ears of steel. Today he hosted Ben and two other boys to a group rehearsal for their big band concert tomorrow night. Ben's trumpeting is not altogether — pleasant. Yet. His songs are consistently punctuated by wheezing, whooping screetches. Spit flies. Some songs might sound better if they're played on a chalk board. But Ben is inarguably getting better and better and he really seems to enjoys it. So I let Mr. Newton know how much his influence and instruction are appreciated.
Sunday, May 8, 2011
Day 60
Scripture: Ps 116:1-3, 10-17; Acts 2:14a, 36-41; 1 Peter 1:17-23; Luke 24:13-35
Scripture standout: Luke: 24 " 30 When he was at the table with them, he took bread, gave thanks, broke it and began to give it to them. 31 Then their eyes were opened and they recognized him, and he disappeared from their sight."
Morning thoughts: Today will be a fun challenge — do unto others on Mother's Day and my 39th birthday? Is it possible with such a double-whammy of a "me" day?
I like this verse because it's so typical: I see God in situations or people or acts — and it all becomes so clear. Then in the very next moment, he disappears from my sight with the next round of worry, daily chore or thought. I wish those recognitions were more prolonged experiences.
The Deed/The Day: Wow. The only thing I managed to do was to be grateful. Is that a deed?
Scripture standout: Luke: 24 " 30 When he was at the table with them, he took bread, gave thanks, broke it and began to give it to them. 31 Then their eyes were opened and they recognized him, and he disappeared from their sight."
Morning thoughts: Today will be a fun challenge — do unto others on Mother's Day and my 39th birthday? Is it possible with such a double-whammy of a "me" day?
I like this verse because it's so typical: I see God in situations or people or acts — and it all becomes so clear. Then in the very next moment, he disappears from my sight with the next round of worry, daily chore or thought. I wish those recognitions were more prolonged experiences.
The Deed/The Day: Wow. The only thing I managed to do was to be grateful. Is that a deed?
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Day 59
Scripture standout: 1 John: 17 If anyone has material possessions and sees a brother or sister in need but has no pity on them, how can the love of God be in that person? 18 Dear children, let us not love with words or speech but with actions and in truth."
Morning thoughts: I had too much fun last night. RB hosted quite a fun little fiesta for my birthday and I took full advantage of the margaritas and wine she served. So I don't have many poignant morning thoughts to share other than I know what it feels like to feel deeded. RB pulled out all the stops — she went to the ends of the earth to find or cook the things I like. There were tamales from Texas, gorgeous chocolate cupcakes and Reece's Peanut Butter cups. What nibble was by the vat of my very favorite chardonnay chilling at the bar? Why, white cheddar cheese puffs of course! It reminded me how meaningful it is when someone treats you to the things you love. It reminded me to take note of my friends' likes and dislikes, and shower them in the good stuff. It reminded me that going to a lot of trouble for someone makes them feel like a million dollars. When I get out of my fog, perhaps I can articulate this more clearly — and do it more often for others.
The Deed/The Day: I have been in such a fog today that I had to scramble through my blog toolbox to get a last-minute, end-of-the-day idea for a deed. I found one: write one of your teachers. This is a wonderful idea, and timely. The person I am writing is Paul Foerester. He was my Algebra II teacher my sophomore year at Alamo Heights High School. Mr. Foerester is smart. He's written about a million math books and is a friendly, jovial wonderful person. This spring, he is retiring after many many years with the school district. As brilliant as Mr. Forester is in all things math, I was just so — not. Here is my letter to Mr. Foerester:
Dear Mr. Foerester:
Congratulations on your retirement! I wish I could be there to wish you well in person, but I live in Florida now and it is difficult to get back home.
I am grateful to live in Florida. I have enjoyed a wonderful career here as a journalist — first for The Jacksonville Business Journal and now as the editor of two community newspapers. I adore my work — I feel like this is my calling! The other day I calculated it, and figured I have been a writer or editor for I nearly 25 years if you include my work in high school and college. That's a long a#$ time!
Mr. Foerester, I have you to thank for it all. My sophomore year, I took your Algebra II class. It was right after lunch, and I was not your most attentive student. I goofed off with Heather Henderson and didn't pay attention. It wouldn't have mattered anyway. My brain didn't do math.
While I excelled in other honors classes, I failed your class. Yup. My first, last and only class failure in my educational career. My parents were POed! I was scared. The guidance counselor told me I couldn't take your class again in the spring. They told me I needed to pick another class to take — and the only options available were electives. That being the case, I had to take two electives. And I shouldn't be picky, the frustrated guidance counselor said, because there were only two elective courses available: Typing with Mrs. Tassos; and Journalism with Mrs. Norman.
I learned a lot from those classes. No offense — and I sincerely don't mean to be cheeky or disrespectful in any way here — but that failure put me on a road where Algebra II had no role. As much as I wish I was a better Algebra II student for you, I am grateful you failed me. I wouldn't be who I am today without you.
WIth love and appreciation,
Susanna Person Barton
Alamo Heights High School, Class of 1990
Friday, May 6, 2011
Day 58
Scripture standout: Luke 3: "21 When all the people were being baptized, Jesus was baptized too. And as he was praying, heaven was opened 22and the Holy Spirit descended on him in bodily form like a dove. And a voice came from heaven: “You are my Son, whom I love; with you I am well pleased.”
Morning thoughts: This reminds me of my own family's experiences with birds. They have not been about doves (although, don't get me started about some of the doves and pigeons and other hunted animals that have lived in our garage for bird dog training. Yuck!) Instead, my bird experience has involved little, yellow birds.
Grandaddy, my grandfather on my dad's side, lived in Goliad, TX about two hours from our house in San Antonio. He died when I was very young, but I have very distinct memories of his playful presence, his twinkle and his warmth. At the end of every visit or phone conversation he would promise me this: that he was sending a little, yellow bird over to the house to tell me how much he loved me. Watch out, he said, for that little, yellow bird. I always kept watch for him — that little, yellow bird.
Flash forward more than 25 years. By this time, not only had Grandaddy passed on, but Grandmother, my mom, my Pampaw and my Bobbie all were long gone. I was giving Ben and Marley a bath and the kids were splashing around. Ben suddenly stopped and looked down at the drain. (I am not kidding, this is just how it was) He reached down into the water, pulled his hand back up and produced his empty hand with great excitement. "Look, Mommy!" he said. "A little, yellow, bird! I am going to name him Airplane!" And for months after that moment, Ben wore Airplane on his shoulder proudly.
I still can't believe it. What a gift!
I love the image of angel messages coming down to rest on our shoulders like doves or little, yellow birds. I hope one lands on me today.
The Deed/The Day: What a privilege to go into a quiet neighborhood chapel, where the door was open and the breeze danced in on a beautiful morning. Some wonderful people organized a prayer vigil for a local mom who underwent surgery this morning. It felt great to sit there by myself and focus on her and her recovery for 15 minutes. What an opportunity.
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