Getting Things Straight

The old Women’s Devotional Journal had not been completely filled. I began to use it mid December as I had completed the other with devotional notes and jots and doodles. 

I began to glance back through the years of unfinished notes. Some of the journal pages are from 2005, others are dated 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2013 until I again picked it up to complete my 2014 Devotional notations. Good intentions…left undone.

Some of the entries are filled with the wonder of a new journal that begs to be stained with ink and the wonder of simple study and devotion. Other entries are the angst of a wayward family member. Others surround the shock of a heart attack and subsequent lifestyle change.

I also documented the decision to leave one church and return to my Methodist roots. That was a difficult transition of sorts, especially for my Hubs. It’s just that you know, that you know, that you know when a door has been closed.

Some of the notations are from sermons. Please don’t misunderstand what I’m saying, but by taking notes during the sermon, I am more apt to “pay attention” than to let my mind wander randomly.

I began to read sermon notes from 2009. The sermon was titled "Getting Things Straight."

The bible gives us three accounts of this act in Matthew, Mark and Luke. It is about the woman who had been bleeding for twelve years. 

Twelve years…can you imagine? So many doctors…so many treatments, only to have the condition worsen. 

In that climate, in that environment, a woman who was bleeding could not go to the temple to worship as she was considered “unclean.”

Picture it…this woman ostracized by her own people, possibly bent over with disability and pain. A handicap in biblical times was equated to being “less than perfect.” She was outcast, made to stand in the back. Possibly even her own family didn’t want to be around her. Truly, this was a social disease as she was made socially unacceptable.

Yet she heard the Messiah was in town and was filled with hope, with anticipation. With all the persons clamoring around him, she made her way to him and as the King James Version reads, she, who had an “issue of blood,” touched the hem of his garment. She was immediately healed.

Jesus felt the “power” leave him. He turned and said, “Who touched me?” The disciples were incredulous and said, “Look at all this crowd, who can tell who touched you?” Yet this woman heard him, she fell at his feet and confessed that it was she who had touched his garment and pleaded for forgiveness. In my mind’s eye, he possibly knelt towards her, took her by the hand and said, “Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace and be freed from your suffering.” (Tamara’s paraphrase)

Getting Things Straight, indeed! She could now stand with her head held high; she could worship freely and no longer be relegated to the back.

So…what’s your issue? What’s keeping you from fully and freely worshiping?

Wishing you grace, every single day,

Tamara

Egypt Revisited

Personal blogging has been on the back burner for a while. Visiting your websites has allowed a glimpse into your lives and there has been a measure of comfort and familiarity with that. Thank you.

This move, apartment living and the job transfer have been unsettling in some manner. Surely it must be the difficulty of change after all these years, wouldn’t one think? Change is neither good nor bad, it is after all, merely change and our ability to deal with it (or not…). 

Therein is the problem. It has been a season of mourning, if you will. Sitting on a Pity Pot and straying down depression’s path has taken its toll. Truly, this move and all that surrounded it were covered in prayer and the answers and solutions were so swift in arriving there was no doubt they were divinely ordained! Looking back as I have been, I should be a pillar of salt, not unlike Lot’s nameless wife.

It is time to flush that Pity Pot and get on with it!

My new supervisor is absolutely wonderful! However, as I was “unexpected” and just showed up to work unannounced (due to the hardship transfer) other staff have been… well, less than gracious and somewhat territorial in some aspects and downright rude in others. Difficult as that is, it is recognized and recognizing it means it can be managed to some degree.

What is the function of an Administrative Assistant? Part and parcel of it is to ensure your supervisor is successful and that is the goal set before me. There is a job to do and I will do it to the very best of my ability. My success is not based upon popularity or persons even ‘liking’ me. As professionals we need not to be ‘bosom buddies’ or even friends, we need to establish a cohesive working relationship (period).

Steve Shoemaker has written: “When times get hard and God seems nowhere to be found, the consolations of what we can see and touch, taste and smell are awfully appealing: the feel of gold, the taste of skin, the smell of the soil, the sea. Golden calves often beat out the impalpable God.”

I’ve wanted to return to Egypt when the simple truth is I’ve tasted the Manna and I will be satisfied with nothing less.

I need to remember that life should be lived as Eucharist Theology. Hearts, like the bread, are made to be broken yet loved in all that brokenness. 

We should live our lives as spilled wine, allowing ourselves and our lives to overflow, spill out and come into contact with those who desperately are thirsting.

We need a community of faith that will allow us to do that… allow us to serve in some capacity… It isn’t about us – it’s about community. It isn’t about where we live – it’s about community. It isn’t about work – it’s about community.  No longer desiring Egypt, I long for Emmaus…

Spimly yours,

Tamara

Luke 24New King James Version³⁰ Now it came to pass, as He sat at the table with them, that He took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. ³¹ Then their eyes were opened and they knew Him

Tragedy, Brokenness and Points of Light

The glass silently slips from my hand and tumbles to the tile floor with the inharmonious cacophony that heralds the assault of a thousand shards of glass… waiting… waiting to pierce and bleed. 

With broom in hand I begin to sweep the shards into a pile in vain efforts to organize chaos. I find shards of brokenness in places you cannot fathom they have traveled and ponder on the law of physics and yes, the gravity of the situation. Yet another broken glass, will this one be missed? 

How many shards of brokenness remain hidden beneath the surface of my being? Precious multi-colored facets each representing a painful period of life that I am yet unwilling to relinquish. Isn’t pain after all, proof that life continues on? 

When tragedy strikes, when trouble comes, when life disappoints we stand at the crossroads between hope and despair, torn and hurting. Local, national and world news all tear at the fiber of our souls and we cry out in unison, “Oh God! How much more brokenness can we take?” 

And God recalls the midday darkness and brokenness of a son impaled upon a cross with a crown of thorns thrust upon his brow, blood trickling like tear drops falling from heaven. 

I wonder about the rescue workers gathered together to accept their assignments in recovery, and my heart is pierced. I am moved to tears thinking where is the Holy One? Where is the One to break the bread, to pour the wine, to anoint with oil and offer the prayers for those who seek in the recovery? 

“When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, “Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.” 

–Fred Rogers 

I am making a deliberate decision to focus on the helpers, the rescue workers. They are the points of light that make an intolerable situation hopeful. Every act of compassion pulls us from the darkness that seeks to overcome our souls and pull us towards the Light. In the name of those unknown, but who are the helpers – I light a candle and offer a prayer for their strength, for their needs and for their mental health.

Simply yours,

Tamara

The Artisan

Have you ever sat in a house of worship and considered stained glass? I admit there are times I find my mind wandering during the service and to focus, I begin to study the stained glass. Those broken shards of glass that reflect the brightest, richest colors are lovingly placed together and become “one” in an art form that often tell a story.

Isn’t that like us in all of our brokenness? God is the artist and uses us in all our brokenness to do His will on earth. All too often I find I prefer to be the artist rather than the brightly colored ruby shard that is placed next to the brilliant emerald shard. They are two very different pieces of brokenness that are complimentary in nature and can work in harmony to fulfill the will of God if allowed to reflect the nature of Christ.

Maybe, just maybe if we learn to recognize the Christ in one another perhaps we will become more susceptible to being healed just by being in one another’s broken, yet holy presence.

Father, Creator of all heaven and earth, heal my blindness that my eyes may be opened to those who also need healing. Heal my heart that it may be pierced with Your love for those who need love. Heal my crippled and maimed hands that they may be opened to embrace those who require Your touch. In Jesus name, Amen.

Ephesians 2:10

Good News Translation (GNT)

¹⁰ God has made us what we are, and in our union with Christ Jesus he has created us for a life of good deeds, which he has already prepared for us to do.