If Only...

books wrote themselves

2011-08-08T08:48:00.000-06:00

Taking a couple months of blogging and turning it into a book is one of Jon Acuff's strong points, but may not be mine. Since I admire his writing so much, I thought I would use his formula, but the book that this blog was meant to become has the same three pages written that it did in June.
Time to go write the Bible study, and let the blog rest for a time...

talk led to profit

2011-08-02T12:55:00.000-06:00

"All hard work brings a profit, but mere talk leads only to poverty." (Proverbs 14:23)

If only talking about something led to riches. Intentions are my strong suit, follow-through, not so much. I have a very long list of things I mean to do, but a rather short one of things I complete.
I'm not talking about running errands and housework--I kill those lists in short order. My fault is in the bigger stuff. A project I told my husband that I would complete weeks ago for business is just getting tackled today (and is temporarily on hold while I write this).
Why? Even as a very contemplative and self-aware person, this one still puzzles me. Intention should yield action, and action leads to profit, according to King Solomon. That profit is something we could really use right now, so I better get back to my other project.

I was classy

2011-07-26T09:24:00.000-06:00

There are always a couple of women in my life who both awe and slightly intimidate me. They are poised, classy, calm women who never seem to misspeak or curse aloud or even perspire. And Jill, Jennifer and Libby--the most polished women I know--would NEVER walk into a bar, slap a $5 bill on the DJ's computer, ask him to play Janet Jackson "If," and then climb up on a stage to dance because she still craves an audience sometimes. And those women definitely, even if pushed, would not fall off that stage--in white shorts--into the slop of beer, dirt and gin on the bar floor.
I, however, did all those things last week. I am not classy, poised, or polished. I am a work in progress.
"A wife of noble character who can find? She is worth far more than rubies. Her husband has full confidence in her and lacks nothing of value. She brings him good, not harm, all the days of her life." (Proverbs 31:10-12)

Scotty could beam me up

2011-07-19T09:45:00.000-06:00

I was never a Trekkie, but have always wished that teleporting thing worked. I am a princess about travel. I want short security lines, a first-class seat and direct flights pretty much any distance that I can't make in under 2 hours by car. That is not in my budget, but I am headed to the airport now to take an economy seat to Des Moines on a possible prop plane.
If only there was a faster way to get from here to there. Actually, even if teleporting was invented in my lifetime, I would never get in that chamber. Remember the movie "The Fly" with Jeff Goldblum? Not going to chance a DNA splice with a bug that snuck through security.
Better than chancy teleporting would be if everyone I love--and even a lot of people I just like--lived really close by. Within that 2-hour-or-under driving window. And then that place we all lived would have mountains and beaches and meadows nearby, too. And no one would die and no one would get sick and no one would be hungry or mean or wake me up before 7.
Maybe Heaven has a teleporter--or not, since I imagined it?
“No eye has seen, no ear has heard,and no mind has imagined what God has prepared for those who love him.” (1 Corinthians 2:9)

cholesterol was sexy

2011-07-18T10:39:00.000-06:00

Now that I am 40, my doctor suggested a cholesterol and thyroid function test. A blood donation was made, and I assumed that I would get the "all's well" letter in the mail in a week or so. Instead, 2 days later, the office called to let me know my cholesterol numbers were too high, and I needed to start on fish oil capsules immediately, reduce my consumption of red meat and cheese--blasphemy!--and come back in 6 months for a re-check.
The fish oil seemed the easiest start, so I went to the grocery store and bought a vat of capsules. At King Soopers, the check stand often spits out coupons related to something I purchased. I buy Clif bars, get a coupon for Lara bars. I buy yogurt squeezers for the kids, get a coupon for popsicles. An algorithm must have been created just to make these matches.
I am henceforth calling down a plague of locusts and boils on the programmer responsible for the coupon I received when I bought my fish oil pills: "FREE box of any one Poise product, specifically designed for Light Bladder Leakage!"
So the assumption is that now I have started to pee my pants too? Grrr!

I could see the whole picture

2011-07-14T13:12:00.000-06:00

^"For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known." (1 Corinthians 13:12, KJV)

I have a time-wasting addiction to the game Bejeweled Blitz on Facebook. Every morning, after reading my homepage of the Our Daily Bread devotional, I go to Facebook, get my free spin for coins, and play a game or ten--all while squinting tightly into the sunlight pouring in from the window by my computer. I can't see about a third of the game board in that light, so I never get a very high score in the morning, unless it's a cloudy day.
Isn't that an easy metaphor for life? We can't see much of the picture, and it inhibits our performance. But we have to be content, and accept that God is working, even when we can't see it The problem in life, unlike Bejeweled, is we will never see the whole picture this side of heaven, regardless of the lighting.
.

she moved that rock

2011-07-12T08:49:00.000-06:00

In a classic example of "be careful what you wish for," I test rode a mountain bike Sunday. On Friday I said, "If only I had a mountain bike," but today I am saying, thank goodness I was able to give that bike back and crawl home.
On a relatively steep descent, about 2/3 of the way through our ride around Bear Creek Lake Park, we came upon a girl standing next to her bike on the side of the trail. Protocol is to give the uphill rider the right-of-way, but she was off her bike and told us to go ahead and pass. As I rode up next to where she was standing, I hit a large rock about the size of a cantaloupe, and went down hard on my right knee. I was bleeding steadily from the skin flap I opened on the knee, had no bandages in my Camelbak, and was embarrassed to have an audience.
"Oh no! Are you okay?" she asked. "That rock gave me trouble, too. I was thinking about moving it off the trail."
I got back on my bike, wobbly and scared, and promptly fell again, with my bike on top of me in some more rocks and dirt. My wrist, flanks, arm and knee were now beaten up, not to mention my fragile ego. I was a mess!
If only she had moved that rock. I wouldn't be bruised and bloody. I wouldn't have given the bike back to the shop without a backward glance. My husband would have another mountain biking buddy.
But, it's not really fair to put it all on her, or the rock. If I'm being honest, I felt a bit too out of control most of the ride. The singletrack trail bordered by bushes and cliffs and covered in rocks, sand and dirt was too wild and unpredictable for me.
The trail we rode parallels a golf course much of the ride, and that manicured grass looked much more inviting. If only I'd brought my clubs.

I had a mountain bike

2011-07-08T15:17:00.000-06:00

I wore a super-cute dress to the Kenny Chesney concert that got compliments from ladies I didn't even know. The best part? It was $17 on the clearance rack at Target--and don't think I didn't tell everyone that. I am not ashamed of my Tarjay bargains.
As consumer-minded Americans, don't we always have something we "need?" Sure, some people go to the mall to speed-walk in their fanny packs, but most have a list, even if just in their heads. If you asked me right now what I think I need, the answer would be a pair of black sandals and a mountain bike. The sandals will probably cost less than $20, but the mountain bike is another story.
I am married to a mountain-bike fanatic who compares his vast array of bikes to a golfer who has more than one club in his bag. Apparently it depends on the terrain he plans to cover, as to which bike leaves the garage.
This wonderful man keeps asking me to take up mountain biking with him, and my skinny-tired Trek isn't eligible. There are plenty of bargain mountain bikes to be found--in fact I bet Target carries some. I, however, will not be allowed to buy anything less than a full-suspension fancy-pants bike, which means I will need to ride it A LOT to feel like it was a bargain of any kind.

I had no mortgage

2011-07-06T15:01:00.000-06:00

I am very grateful for both of my homes, as I know there are people without one. However, I wish I didn't have a "vacation home" in Lakewood, Colorado. My husband and I are famously illogical when making big decisions, and purchased our current home within a week of listing the old one. We assumed we would sell it by the closing date of house number two and all would be well.
That was right at the peak of the housing bubble, and we have chased that market down for seven long years now. We have been able to rent the house, so it isn't as draining financially as it could be, but it feels like such a weight. That extra house is much of the reason this blog theme and Bible study are being written. We have started so many conversations over the years with, "If only we could sell our other house..."
The Rapture will likely happen before the market rebounds enough so we can sell that house for what we owe on it. But this is a story about learning contentment, so here's what I remind myself:
   1. I am not homeless, as many are
   2. God has given us enough money to carry us through each time a mortgage statement comes
   3. My mansion in Heaven is already paid for

I was brave

2011-06-29T16:36:00.000-06:00

"Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go.” (Joshua 1:9)

I have always loved the ending of things--with one major caveat. Packing things up, throwing away papers from last semester, giving away clothes that I don't wear anymore; these are some of my favorite things, as long as they are my doing.
Some major things ended in my childhood without my approval, and I have spent the last thirty years making sure it doesn't happen again. If I choose when something ends, then I feel like I have control over it.
Last year, I trained to be a Holy Yoga instructor. An amazing journey of humbling myself to learn something new, leaving my family for the first time for the training retreat, and growing a ministry at my church. God anointed each step in obvious, burning-bush ways.
Our Red Rocks Church women's retreat was just two weeks after I was certified. I taught my first yoga class to a packed room of women, at the foot of a rough-hewn cross in a stone chapel in the foothills of the Rockies--magical! My church also did a sermon series that summer on the spiritual aspect of taking care of our bodies, and I was introduced on-stage as a Holy Yoga teacher.
In the months that followed, I taught well-attended classes every Monday night, was interviewed about Christian yoga by my local NBC television station, and enjoyed knowing that I was a part of something God was blessing. As 2010 came to a close, I met with other Christian yoga teachers, planned a workshop, and kept nurturing new ideas for growing my piece of the Holy Yoga ministry.
On December 31, my 40th birthday, my kind brother-in-law and I went out into the 8-degree chill to attend a yoga class. When we got to the studio, there was no instructor. Everyone else shrugged it off, but to me, it was a sign. So I checked out of yoga.
After my January classes and workshop, I rolled up my yoga mat and put it under the bed in my guest room where it gathered dust for 5 months. I quit yoga before it could quit me.
Over the last couple weeks, Holy Yoga has been calling me back. I've dreamed of time spent with Brooke Boon, the founder of Holy Yoga. I've remembered the peace and joy I found on my mat, and longed to have that again. This morning, I humbly asked God for acknowledgement that this was His will for me, and in his unfailing love, He sent me an e-mail.
Minutes after I asked for a sign, the Holy Yoga newsletter showed up in my inbox, with information on the Masters Program. I knew what God was telling me, and repeated Joshua 1:9 to myself a couple times to remind myself who was with me on the journey, and who is really in control.

I could have it all

2011-06-27T10:51:00.000-06:00

We weren't even going to make it to church yesterday, because of a swim meet and a wedding, but somehow we found ourselves at the 11 o'clock service. Straight from the 6:30 a.m. swim meet meant ponytail and Patagonia skirt, not my normal Sunday attire. No access to make-up, either. I have never been to church without my security blanket, also known as my purse, and stocked with almost everything I could have needed to pretty up on the way. I wanted gum so bad that I craved a short turn with the ABC gum the guy in front of me was working on. OK, back to topic.
Pastor Shawn gave a message titled "I Am Second," based on Jesus' own words in Matthew 6: "But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well." The message included video segments from Brian "Head" Welch, formerly of the metal band Korn. Brian spoke of his years in the band and how he literally had so much money coming in that he ran out of things to buy. (He has since become a Christian and quit Korn to raise his daughter and tell his story.)
Solomon was discussed as well. In Ecclesiastes 2, the king spoke of having every desire met, and finding it all meaningless. Women, wealth, and kingdoms, all deemed as empty as "chasing the wind."
But to us, said Pastor Shawn, Solomon and Brian were lucky, because at least they had a chance to know what it was like to have everything they wanted. To the rest of us peasants, we keep playing the "If Only" game, thinking how nice it would be to have a chance to have it all.
But, if I had it all, would I still believe I needed God?

Gavin were here

2011-06-24T14:21:00.000-06:00

I miss my little brother. He should be here, on the planet, juggling bottles and laughing that big huge laugh of his. He should be showing off on the diving board for his niece and nephew. He should be competing in repulsive eating contests with his friends--like the 3-pound-vat-of-potato-salad story I heard at his funeral.
He should be coming for the 4th of July, like he did each year, so we could celebrate his birthday on the 5th together. He should be getting married and moving here and having his own kids, so we could see a lot more of each other than we did when we lived 700 miles apart.
He should be here, but he's not. In the words of my own little girl the morning after the crash, "Uncle Gavin is crazy dancing with Jesus." Lucky Gavin.
Jesus himself said, "Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted." That is a promise that I have clung to often since September 15, 2007.

my kids would do what I say

2011-06-22T10:35:00.000-06:00

The apostle Paul learned the secret to being content in all circumstances, but he wasn't married, which means he didn't have children. Nothing gets me angry like incomplete obedience from my kids.
If only they would realize what I already seem to grasp--that I am wise and fantastic and everything I say is perfect, then maybe they would start acting like little angels. Everything I say would be answered with a "yes, ma'am" and a smile and off they would go to brush their teeth or stop fighting or compose poems of their undying love for me.
Ah, but my kids are human, which means selfish and sinful. They do not obey without question, and then I get all yell-y. And that breaks their little hearts. So who should I really be working on?
^"The soothing tongue is a tree of life, but a perverse tongue crushes the spirit." (Proverbs 15:4)

...my ceilings were flat

2011-06-20T10:45:00.000-06:00

As I sit in my dining room typing and look up at the ceiling, I think, "If only this ceiling didn't have that popcorn texture, then this would be a really nice room." Seriously?
If I look out the window--instead of at the bumpy ceiling--I see the foothills of Denver, pine trees surround me, deer and elk walk through my backyard, but I care about the texture of my ceiling!
God must be shaking his head at me for that one. Or why don't I sit in this room and smile at the memory of the card game we played in here last night? Or how about the dinners we have eaten here with too many family and friends to count? That is what makes this room a blessing, not the ceiling texture.
As always, I get my thinking right when I take the time to work on it, but how can I make gratitude and contentment my default response? Could I train myself to go to gratitude first, and not complaining or crituiquing?
Paul found the secret to contentment in ALL circumstances. I'm working on that.