Incognito

"We may ignore, but we can nowhere evade, the presence of God. The world is crowded with Him. He walks everywhere incognito. And the incognito is not always hard to penetrate. The real labour is to remember, to attend. In fact, to come awake. Still more, to remain awake." - from Letters to Malcolm: Chiefly on Prayer by C.S. Lewis

Incognito. The birds' chatter concerto. The perfect flight of an arrow. A smiling, bubble-foamed baby swirling round the bathtub. Seemingly painted legs of a hopping grass eater.

Can we recognize the incognito? Discern it among the ocean of noise that floods our days?

More so, if we can find God in the beauty, can we find Him in the burden? The life-application notes of my Bible explain to me, "God does not keep us from encountering life's storms, but he will see us through them. In fact, God walks through these storms with us and rescues us." Can we pause between the rain drops and lightning bolts to seek our rescuer, to cry out before the incognito and awake? I wonder.

Exclamation Points

My eldest son began first grade. New book bag, glue sticks, yellow highlighter. The shopping list continued and my eyebrows raised to vaulted ceiling heights. What do they do in first grade?

I received the first email from his new teacher and much like his kindergarten teacher's correspondence, it was peppered with exclamation points. Peppered and salted. They were everywhere. Lounging on our eggplant couch that evening I remembered to tell my husband about this odd little phenomenon going on in the elementary world. We giggled, imagining ourselves sending business emails with that kind of perky punctuation, but then my husband said seriously, "Do you live life with exclamation points?"  I paused, my answer hung in suspension as my brain still processed. What a concept!

So, I recount this story and attach it to some recent photos from The Lost Cajun Kitchen where we dined on alligator! My children thought it tasted like chicken! Did you see those teeth?! What a dining adventure!

I hope this will be one of many exclamation point moments.

Fire and Ice

I helped to lead a Sunday School class not too long ago. It was the week that took our city by surprise with record heat.  Part of the session was about prayer and used an acronym to dig deeper into this topic for children. The acronym was ACTS, short for adoration, confession, thanksgiving and supplication. To break it down more simply we used the words: wow, oops, thank you and help!

We sat in our cozy semi-circle and I asked the fidgeting group about "wow" moments for that week. The topic of hail came up. I thought about the cold chunks of ice that dropped from the sky pelleting the ground a day or two ago. The thunderstorm's frosty finale. I also remembered the sizzling temperatures we were complaining about and sweating through sun up to sun down, and it suddenly struck me how our amazing Creator poured forth ice in the midst of a fiery heat wave. Talk about your "wow" moments.

WOW.

"Who can understand how he spreads out the clouds, how he thunders from his pavilion? See how he scatters his lightning about him, bathing the depths of the sea. This is the way he nourishes the nations and provides food in abundance." - Job 36:29-31 (NIV)

The Lion and the Tribes

Turbans? Yes, please. 

My son attended Vacation Bible School (VBS) last month. Children were grouped together according to the tribes of Israel. Colorful posters displayed on chairs in the worship space showed icons and names of the groups. Spotting a lion, I realized we were assigned to the tribe of Judah. Delighted, I squealed, "Ooh, the line of David! Of Jesus!" My son just looked at me and glanced back at the cool image of the big cat. 

Earlier that Sunday morning, Pastor John spoke about hospitality as we prepared to open our church to the youth of the city and surrounding areas for VBS. He referenced Abraham and Sarah in the desert when three mysterious visitors appeared. Abraham ran to the tent to prepare a feast. Thankfully so, since as it turned out they were messengers. Angels in the desert. 

The theme for this year's Bible School was Marketplace 29 A.D. It offered a snapshot into the time of Jesus' life and culture through the activities of the market. Each tribe visited different stations every night -- jewelry, weaving, pottery, carpentry, scroll writing, spices. Little noses lifted skywards to bunches of dried thyme and rosemary. Herbal treasures. Pretend beggars even made their rounds and children offered up faux gold coins.

The marketplace pulsed with life and so did our Vacation Bible School. We danced in whirling circles and waved scarves of scarlet and tangerine. My son's favorite song offered an Egyptian dance move, complete with lyrics: "Pharaoh, Pharaoh, ohhhhhh baby, let my people go, uhh. Yeah, yeah, yeah."

The week continued. Friendships were formed. By the fifth and final evening, the dancing and music were moving more into a frenzy of games of chase, bounding leaps and other horseplay. Some members of the tribes listened more than others. The energy was reaching a crescendo and my gut reaction was to corral, lay order to chaos, but I refrained as a spectator.

After the happy bedlam had subsided and we made our way home, I reflected on my feelings. How I had wanted to stifle joy, curb its free and boisterous spirit because it didn't seem to fit my definition. Not very hospitable for these angels in the desert. While VBS is traditionally meant for children, I found my very adult self learning in the process. I can only be thankful that I have my lion to lean on.

"Do not weep! See, the Lion of the tribe of Judah, the Root of David, has triumphed. He is able to open the scroll and its seven seals." - Revelation 5:5

Mom in the Heels meets Cat in the Hat

I was reading this book recently and was struck by how much I must resemble the Cat at this point in the story, juggling any number of things. My own dialogue reads something more like this:

The volvo needs fixed,
The special cupcakes need mixed.
The diapers are out,
There should be more blogging about.
The dishwasher is broke,
Just let the dirty ones soak.
Pack lunch for a field trip?
Try not to flip.
A fun trip to the store,
Stumble home through the door.
Kick off the high heels,
Put away more meals.
Find jammies, pour milk,
Blueberry splatters, stained silk.
Emails from the boss,
Sometimes I'm at a loss.
A presentation at dawn,
10PM fold socks with a yawn.
Exercise, burn flab,
There's no time to gab.
Does my bible have dust?
I have not made it a must.

Do you remember what happens next in the story?

My balancing act is more akin to a train wreck.  Still, I keep trying. Spread projects out, slow drama down.  And some things just don't get done because of the occasional impromptu family dance party in the living room. Complete with a rousing rendition of "Rock Me Amadeus" and some robot moves. Cat in the Hat, look out.

Shades of Scarlet

Scaling Scarlet Walls: Anatomy of a Poppy

Poppies blush against my front fence. They greet passersby with their scarlet wave. My son asks, "What are they?" as we examine their deep middles, insect-like. Fuzzy. They are different than the daffodil yellow trumpets or bright tulips closed tight. Spring air twists their thin stems and pedal flames dance. I marvel at their bright beauty. This shade of scarlet.

A powerful color. The color of lips and blood and rubies and fire. The color of a cord that saved a family. Rahab and the spies. A sign of salvation. This shade of scarlet.

“Now then, please swear to me by the Lord that you will show kindness to my family, because I have shown kindness to you. Give me a sure sign that you will spare the lives of my father and mother, my brothers and sisters, and all who belong to them—and that you will save us from death...Now the men had said to her, “This oath you made us swear will not be binding on us unless, when we enter the land, you have tied this scarlet cord in the window through which you let us down, and unless you have brought your father and mother, your brothers and all your family into your house.” “Agreed,” she replied. “Let it be as you say.” So she sent them away, and they departed. And she tied the scarlet cord in the window.” 
-Joshua 2: 12-13, 17-18, 21

A Waffle-like World

Why can't everything be as wonderful as waffles? And, to really top those beauties off -- they're multigrain. Organic even. Mmhhhhmmm. I'm filled to sweet fullness and it's half healthy.

We trekked our pack to a favorite cafe nestled beside a chic neighborhood on Saturday morning. The hip locals made way for us as we edged in the crowded doorway. We didn't quite understand all of the fashion or footwear, but we went for the waffles.

The plate took a bit of a beating as my little guys lunged and plunged forks into the goodness of berries soaking in syrup. A blueberry swamp. I was not as enthusiastic and eyed them from the sidelines.

My attitude/ego/confidence had taken a bit of a beating of its own the night before as I wrecked our sporty little volvo into a fortress of an SUV.  As you can see, mine looked more like the moat. Sigh.

Fortunately, no one was hurt. The fortress was basically blemish-free and I had a lot of explaining to do for my dear husband. Why can't everything be as wonderful as waffles?

But I suppose, there is always a burnt batch once in awhile. Tough edges singed black. Lessons to be learned.

The evening it happened, my toddler asked me for a hug from his crib as I moved toward his door. Arms open. Big blue eyes. I held him close and he snuggled me near. I soaked him in and thanked God I had not taken this from someone or lost it myself. Lessons to be learned. My sad heart took its time to say "thank you" for this difficult lesson, but a blessing in disguise (or outright) I believe it will be.

Seder Meal

Elements of the Meal (L to R): Lamb bone, Salt Water,
Haroseth, Horseradish Root, Parsley, Ceremonial Wine

We delighted in an invitation to attend a "Seder Meal." Our Sunday school teachers are a deeply wise, Christ-filled couple who opened their home to Hebrew custom. 

After agonizing, "What does one wear to a Seder?," we finally arrived sans baby, but towing an energetic, newly turned six-year old. He was well prepared. The conversation in the car ride over was instructive: "If you don't like what the food looks like, just say "thank you" and lay it on the edge of your plate. Don't worry. Mommy might be doing the same thing." 

As the youngest member at the table he had a role to play. Questions to ask. Oh dear. 

They tucked him tight between my husband and me. Four couples eyed our hosts curiously as they spoke their parts as "Father" and "Mother" in the Hagadah or "telling" of the ceremonial meal. 

It was time to hunt. Pieces of bread were hidden within the dining room. Our squirming son all but cheered at the idea of bread sport. This was to signify the removal of yeast in the home representing sin. The ceremony continued, the meal ensued and we were fascinated by the symbolism and savory surprises. (Although we learned quickly that parsley tastes terrible dipped in salt water.) 

A powerful moment filled the room when we recited together the ten plagues, pausing for "Father" to drip a drop of wine from his finger after each affliction. Dark words hung in the air until released by the blood-colored splash. Powerful, indeed. The full power of God.

The close of the meal nears. Our son is asked to open the front door. We are to welcome Elijah to the Passover. He hesitates, but finally pulls the door free peeking out to sidewalks and sunshine. Expectant. Confused. "Elijah?" The adults chuckle quietly. No chariots of fire today. 

I have not recounted all of the details (like my Dad calling in the middle of the meal holding the baby up to the phone who is crying for his pacifier and I need to translate). But, Seder does means 'order' since the meal and service are done in a particular sequence. So....how does it end? A traditional Seder is concluded with a toast declaring, "Next year in Jerusalem." Within our Christian version, we raised our cups of grape juice high proclaiming, "Next year in the New Jerusalem!" 

Thank you dear hosts for a Super Seder. 

Elements of the Meal: 

Lamb The word 'pesach' (passover) applies to the Lamb of sacrifice as well as to the deliverance from Egypt and to the feast itself.

Unleavened bread (Matzoh) called 'bread of affliction' because it recalls the unleavened bread prepared for the hasty flight by night from Egypt. Three large matzohs are broken and consumed during the ceremony. 

Bitter herbs (Moror) is a reminder of the bitterness of slavery and suffering in Egypt. 

Green herbs to be dipped in salt water. Salt water represents tears of sorrow shed during the captivity of the Lord's people. 

Haroseth (or 'haroses') represents the mortar used by Jews in building palaces and pyramids of Egypt during their slavery. (It is a mixture of chopped apples, dates, nuts, cinnamon and wine). 

Wine is dipped from a common bowl. The 'Four Cups' represent: Thanksgiving, Hagadah ('telling'), Blessing and Hope.