The power went out.

It really did.  We got a real wet sloppy snowstorm last night that took down some power lines and wiped out our power for awhile.  Normally this isn't really much cause for alarm, but at about 30 degrees outside, with a foot of new wet heavy snow, the house was getting colder by the minute. Sylvia climbed in my bed and snuggled.  Then we got up and put on layers of sweats, brewed tea in my new tea kettle, and enjoyed the adventure of life without electricity.

It came back on about 10:30 or so.  Heat filled our chilly house, and life returned to normal.  However, when I was thinking I'd blog about the power going out, a whole different thought came to mind.

Remember the story about when Jesus was walking down the street with his disciples, and there were people all around, pressing in on all sides, and the woman with the "bleeding problem" touched the hem of his garment?  Jesus turned around and said, "Who touched me?" Why?  

Because the Power went out.

The power went out from the Son of God, and he instantly knew it.  It changed that lady.  It healed her, and emboldened her to speak up and say "it was I, Lord." Can you imagine?

What if the Power went out like that today? The house would be aglow in the warm love of our Creator, and even if the lights came back on, we would never return to "Normal".  When have you felt His power go out? Think back to a time when you spent a few minutes in the dark, quietness of His Love. Spend a few minutes there.


   

LISTENING LIKE A 5 YEAR OLD!

LISTEN

That's what the Father said from the cloud when Peter was babbling on about setting up a tent for Moses and one for Elijah.  He said,

This is my Chosen Son.  Listen to Him.

I'm trying so hard to listen, but I'm babbling like Peter.  I never thought about it like this until now, but when it comes to listening to God, I'm like the kids in my Pre-Kindergarten (Young Fives) class.  I have something that I think is really important to say, and God is doing the same thing I do every day in class, curbing, redirecting, correcting, and I'm totally oblivious.

Here's a sample of a typical Young Fives interaction:

Okay, who can raise their hand and tell m..
I HAVE A CAT!  MRS. SWAGER, I HAVE A CAT.
It's not your turn, who can raise their hand and te...
EXCUSE ME! EXCUSE ME! I HAVE SOMETHING TO TELL YOU...
I HAVE A CAT!
Please don't interrupt.  Who can tell me what letter this is?
EXCUSE ME!  IT'S A B! I DON'T HAVE A B IN MY NAME.  I HAVE A ...
You are right, this is a B.  What sound does it...
I HAVE A CAT! AND IT SCRATCHED ME!
We're talking about the letter B right now, we'll talk about cats later.  What sound does...
EXCUSE ME! CAT DOES NOT HAVE A B! EXCUSE ME!  MY NAME DOES NOT START WITH  B! B IS NOT MY LETTER! 
Please listen!  This letter is B and the sound is /b/.  (The catgirl is up and walking around the room now.)
Take your finger out of your nose and go wash your hands, please! (This is the 4th time Mr. "Excuse me" has been asked to remove his finger.)  
Mrs. A-wogger, I know a word that starts with B!  Moon!  Moon starts with a B!  No, wait, that's not a B. 
EXCUSE ME!  I DON'T HAVE A CAT.  

You get the idea, right?  Except When it's God and I it looks more like this:

THIS IS MY CHOSEN SON, LISTEN...
Hi God, it's me Amy.  I'm nervous about my kids again. They're all growing up so fast, and some of them are in the Army, and it makes me nervous, but I trust that you are going to take care of them and I just...

THIS IS MY CHOSEN SON, LISTEN TO H...
I know I need to listen to Him, but I was thinking maybe I could write a letter to each of my godkids and then make a cake or some cookies.  I have to get something out to thaw for dinner tomorrow, and it needs to have a lot of veggies since Lydia and Harriett gave up meat for lent...

LISTEN TO HIM! 
I am really listening to what you're saying, but I'm really worried about my girlfriend whose Father-in-law just died, and I don't know what to do to help her...

LISTEN! IT'S MY TURN, PLEASE DON'T INTERRUPT, I WANT YOU TO BE STILL AND KNOW THAT I AM GOD... 
 I have a cat, Lord.  I have a cat.  Excuse me, but I have no idea what's really important.  What I know is that I am a bad listener, I have a cat, my name does not contain a B, I have low tolerance for nose-picking, and I really REALLY want to be the student you'd like me to be...if I was only developmentally ready.    

LISTEN!
That's what I'm trying to do.  I'm glad God is an infinitely better and more patient teacher than I am!  
     

Pots, part one.

Picture yourself as an artist who fashions clay pots.

You've spent a good deal of time making a huge assortment of unique pots.
Some are short and stout, perfect to plant one of those gorgeous mini-gardens that fancy people have at the end of their driveways.  Some are tall and slender like Grecian urns, with stories etched into the sides of them.  Each pot was designed in the mind of the artist to carry out a specific task.  Some are very decorative while some are more pragmatic.  Some will spend their entire existence being used for a common purpose, while some will be gilded with gold and reserved for only special occasions.

Now you've spent all this time and energy creating each one in the image you had in your mind.  You gave some imperfections and traits that you knew would serve their purpose, others you created to be...well, shall we say  you were going through your "Art Nouveau" period.  But they all began as your idea.

 Hidden within each pot is a secret. A treasure exists in its form or function, or within its design that makes it more than just a pot.  This secret makes it dear to the one who fashioned it. It is a memory of the time they spent together as clay and potter, being made into something...else.

You would like each pot to know its value.  From the least, little jar that cracked in the fire of the kiln, to the greatest fountain that holds precious water for those in the dessert, they all hold the secret, and you want them to know it.  You want them to REMEMBER it, and hold it dear.

So you climb onto the wheel, and allow yourself to become surrounded with clay and spun into a pot yourself...  

      

The Dirt Blessing

The 'Dirt Blessing'

Two years ago I waited in the hospital in Alabama for my granddaughter to make her entry into the world.  She arrived as scheduled, and promptly made us wait to get to hold her.  Her lungs didn't inflate well when she was first born, which reminded us all of a great lesson...we are not in control.

Yesterday she received ashes on her forehead for Ash Wednesday.  I should say, she and a good deal of the earth's population received these ashes as a reminder of that great lesson also.  We are still not in control.  We get to make choices and decisions, but the truth is exactly what the priest or deacon says as he traces the cross of Christ on our foreheads "Remember that you are dust, and to dust you will return."

Jordan told me Evie was all excited that she got a "dirt blessing".  She's right, it looks like dirt.  It's actually the burnt remains of the palms from last year's Palm Sunday Mass.  That was the one where we were all excited by the triumphant entry of Jesus into Jerusalem and the people were SO excited that he was there and laid palm fronds on the road before him as he rode in on the colt of an ass. Just before my sins nailed him to a cross.  Mine, yours, all of ours, because he didn't have any of his own.

Evie's right!  It is a dirt blessing.  We started as dirt and we'll end that way.  The important part is what we do while we are MORE than dirt.

For that brief moment of time between when our lungs inflate with the breath of God until we give back our last breath of God when our time here is over, we are more than dirt.

I have been taught that the breath of God contains within it some of His divinity, which is in each of us.  So maybe our job while we're here is to give it away.  Give your divinity to every person you meet by acknowledging theirs.  Give away the stuff that really matters.  Give time.  Give Love.  Give kindness and gentleness.  Give forgiveness and acceptance and find the beauty that this world is searching for and can't seem to see. Share your vision while your eyes are still able to see.  Share your laughter while your mind is still able to see the humor in life.  Share your song as long as your voice holds out.  Then just love.

Evie's a big girl now with her very own dirt blessing, and even though she's only been with us for 2 short years, it seems like she's always been.

This year, for Lent, use your days wisely.  Be a blessing, even if you're a dirty one.