Java with Jennifer Journal

June 2012 Fresh Grounded Thoughts

What God Has Been Teaching Me Lately 

              

One Hundred Pockets

My son has a peculiar problem.  He never has enough time to practice his drum. There just simply isn't enough time in the day. He means to do it, he plans to do it, he is supposed to do it, but...he rarely gets around to actually doing it.  He always has something more pressing, more urgent and mostly more fun to do! When it comes to drum practice, his day only has one teeny-weeny pocket and he clearly has trouble locating it. Here's what I mean....

"When one has a great deal to put into it, a day has a hundred pockets." Friedrich Nietzsche

Our day can have plenty of pockets, plenty of hours, when we have lots we want to do. It seems we do have time to do all we enjoy. Sometimes we complain, "There are just not enough hours in the day!" But, it seems there's always enough time to do what we "want" to do. Watch TV, sip a second cup of coffee, shop with a friend, browse the web.... If those are the things we want to do, there is plenty of time.  Clean the bathroom, wash the dog, return a phone call, make a doctor appointment, practice the drum.... If we don't want to do those things, then there is simply not enough time!  

Nietzsche's observation that a day can have 100 pockets is really something to consider.  Sometimes we think there aren't enough "pockets" because we simply don't choose to use our time wisely. We wander aimlessly around the hours of the clock as if it is guiding and pulling us. In reality, we are the ones that can choose to use time to our advantage. We limit ourselves by thinking time is our master as if it drags us unwittingly to procrastinate. How about thinking of time as our servant instead?
 
There's as much time as we need. It's just up to us to use it wisely and well.
 
Psalm 39:4 guides us to recognize each day as significant. "O Lord, make me know my end and what is the measure of my days; let me know how fleeting I am!" The nature of our days is fleeting; the nature of the hours that fill our days is fleeting, too. So, let's see all 100 pockets of each day and fill them well. One hundred pockets is a lot of time, isn't it?

Think of your day in that light and I bet you'll realize you have a lot more time than you even need!

So, how many pockets does your day have and how will you fill them?

Well, that's what's been percolating in me lately.  

 

 

May 2012 Fresh Grounded Thoughts

What God Has Been Teaching Me Lately 

              

With such a sentimental month in my rear view mirror, I kept thinking of how powerful memory is and what a gift it is. It reminded me of something I learned from one of my favorite C.S. Lewis books, Out of the Silent Planet.
 
Lewis begins his tale by introducing the main character, a philologist named Elwin Ransom, who is taking a walking tour of the English countryside. On his journey, he runs into some shady characters from his university days. After dinner, conversation and a few drinks, Ransom is terrified when he realizes he's been hoodwinked by his former colleagues. He wakes up, astonished to find himself in a metal ball soaring through the light-filled heavens, on his way to another world.

When the spacecraft sets down on a foreign planet called Malacandra, Ransom is introduced to a new culture and new perspectives. One such perspective embraces the unique power and significance of remembering. A friendly Malacandran alien later describes his first encounter with Ransom:

When you and I met, the meeting was over very shortly. It was nothing. Now, it is growing something as we remember it. But still we know very little about it. What it will be when I remember it as I lie down to die, what it makes in me all my days till then - that is the real meeting. The other is only the beginning of it. 

I love that thought! And it's not as alien as you might think.

Oscar Levant acknowledged, "Happiness isn't something you experience; it's something you remember." The real power of any moment is fully realized when it is remembered. The experience might have been painful or pleasant, but its intensity and meaning grow when we remember and reflect upon it.

For me, the wedding of Clayton and Caroline was a sweet moment in time, and it will grow within me an even sweeter memory. I just love that! 

Well, that's what's been percolating in me lately.  

April 2012 Fresh Grounded Thoughts

What God Has Been Teaching Me Lately 

Why Judy Likes Storms             

My neighbor, Judy, has a room in her home that features striking photographs of storms. Paris, Milan, Montego Bay...all places where majestic, beautiful storms were captured on film. As she described each photograph to me, I became curious as to why she chose storms as her décor. I asked her why she collected such interesting art. "I love storms," she said.  

"What do you love about storms?" I asked. After all, I thought, "I guess they're beautiful, but they're also mammoth, intimidating and sometimes fierce." I thought it was an unusual thing to have such an interest in. Her answer struck me as profound - "They remind me of the presence of God."

I have never thought of a storm in that way. Have you? When you look at the photo gallery of storms hanging on the walls of your memory, do they remind you of God's presence?  

God's presence is beautiful like a storm. God's presence is mammoth like a storm. God's presence can be intimidating like a storm.  God's Holy presence is also fierce, just like a storm.  

I bet the disciples who were on the Sea of Galilee that day in Mark 4 never thought of a storm the same way. I bet every time the wind blew hard or the lightening clapped, they remembered that day in the boat with Jesus when the winds were strong and their faith was weak. How could a storm remind them of anything but the presence of God? Storms had to remind them of Jesus, for He was with them. In the storm was His presence. His compassion was beautiful. His authority was mammoth.  His words were intimidating. His command of the elements that bowed at his speech was fierce. When you think about it, what is more intimidating - a storm or one who harnesses the storm with His word?   

A storm should remind us of His presence. If we can see Him in our storm, it can make it beautiful. It can become a place of reverence and awe. Even if you don't sense His presence in calming the storm, His presence will be inexplicably known as He calms your heart. 

Well, that's what's been percolating in me lately.  

 

March 2012 Fresh Grounded Thoughts

What God Has Been Teaching Me Lately

Miserable-ites           

I sat in a coffee shop recently and overheard the ladies at the table near me deep in conversation. The shop was small and they were loud, so I could hear every negative and complaining word they spoke. One was obsessed with how her husband didn't measure up to her standards; the other was consumed with bitterness over a boss who seemingly didn't value her as she thought proper. It struck me that they were both miserable within great provision. One was married, provided for financially and emotionally. The other was employed, provided with security and income. Yet, both were miserable and discontent with the portion they had.
 
They were much like the Israelites in the wilderness, or as I like to call them...The "Miserable-ites!"
 
In Exodus 16:3 the Israelites were in the wilderness hungry and grumbly.  "Would that we have died by the Lord's hand in Egypt, when we sat by pots of meat and ate bread till we were full."
 
God responded, saying, "I will rain bread from heaven and the Israelites will go out and gather a day's portion each day. " (vs. 4) In other words, God provided them manna.  But, that wasn't good enough.
 
The people cried, "Who will give us meat to eat? We remember the fish we used to eat free in Egypt... the cucumbers, melons, leaks, onions and garlic. But now our appetite is gone. There is nothing at all." (Numbers 11:4-6)

The Israelites continued to complain about the lack of meat. They complained they had nothing to eat but manna. It was as if they said, "God, all we have is what you provided."
 
Rescued from Egypt, daily provided for, yet utterly miserable? They were surrounded with God's provision, but they were miserable because they didn't receive it. They may have physically digested it, but they didn't take it in, acknowledge it for what it was - God's kindness and grace.  

Just like the ladies in the coffee shop, they were consumed with an ample portion of misery, bitterness and a myriad of other emotions. It wasn't because God had not provided; it was because they had not consumed His provision.
 
We, too, can become miserable when we don't acknowledge God's provision whether it is in a job or a marriage. Instead of consuming the manna/grace He provides, we become consumed with our own lack. We don't notice His faithfulness.  

Lamentations 3:22-24 says, "Because of the LORD's great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. I say to myself, "The LORD is my portion; therefore I will wait for Him."
 
When we "consume" the portion of grace God gives us, we will not be consumed by anything but gratefulness. I don't know about you, but I want to focus on God's provision, not the imperfection of others or the flavor of the manna he provides. Enough said.

Well, that's what's been percolating in me lately.

January 2012 Fresh Grounded Thoughts

What God Has Been Teaching Me Lately 

Why I'm a 34 Used-to-B!           

In early December, I was diagnosed with "atypical ductal hyperplasia" (ADH). ADH is an abnormal appearing growth of cells within the breast ducts that is associated with an increased risk of subsequent breast cancer.  A mammogram found it in November, and another mammogram confirmed it in December.  I then had to have a needle biopsy in both breasts a week before Christmas.  Based on the biopsy results, I was scheduled for a lumpectomy on January 5.  Whew!
 
The lumpectomy was performed to see if there was worse abnormality present in the breasts.  The surgery went well.  I was sore, but Phil was such an attentive helper and two weeks later I felt like myself again-just a little lighter and a bit achy!  I am now a 34 used-to-B, thanks to the two golf ball-sized lumps the doc removed!  

But, here's an observation I gleaned from this brush with cancer.  My burden wasn't as heavy as I thought it would be.  I expected to be plagued with fear and "what if."  I expected anxiety to overwhelm me and make for many sleepless nights.  But, none of that happened.  I actually became concerned that I was in denial because I was so peaceful about all this!  I really prayed and thought long about my response.  "Can a person take sovereignty too seriously, Lord?" I prayed.  "Do I just really trust You or am I a shallow, non-thinking, woman dizzy with denial?"  

Now, I will tell you that when the doctor told Phil and me I would need surgery, a wave of dread did wash over me.  I didn't want to face surgery and the results that may have followed.  I just wanted to enjoy Christmas, finish my manuscript, help plan Clayton and Caroline's wedding and read dead authors!   I did taste fear and trepidation.  But, once that wave washed over me, it somehow cleansed me from fear and left me with resolve.  I had an "it is what it is" attitude and decided God knew and was far more in charge than I.  So, I felt peace, with the occasional tinge of "oh my gosh, this is really happening," popping up to remind me I wasn't in denial!

A few days after surgery, Phil and I sat in the surgeon's office where he announced the results of the pathology.  It was all benign!  I was in the grateful 70% of women who leave with a cancer-free result.  I was so thankful and felt the kindness of God.  Many women leave with far more difficult news.  I couldn't imagine having endured the series of biopsies and surgery just to find myself facing more surgery or radiation like many women do.  Oh, how my heart extends to them!  

When Phil sent out the news, that's when I realized why my burden hadn't felt so heavy.  The responses that came back from friends and family were clearly deep, grateful relief.  Many wrote of tears and cheers.  I was told how some wept before God in gratefulness just as they had wept in petition during this whole ordeal.  My burden was lighter, because they all carried it for me.  Sure, I trusted God and I really do rely on sovereignty, but, my peace wasn't because of my spiritual depth.  It was because of my friends' and family's burden-bearing.  

Because He is sovereign and trustworthy, we give our burden to God, and sometimes He mercifully lends it to those who love us so they can carry it, too.  And, when others bear our burdens, they share in the joy of our burden being lifted.  

So, why was my burden bearable?  Because, Katharyn, Lori, Tammer, Lisa, Angela, Karen, Mom, Dad, Lawson, Jill, David, Carrie, Judy, Tracie, Pat, Aunt Carol, Val, Marci, Gil, Cliff, Julie, Joan, Paula, Tony, Dale, Pam, Amy...and countless others bore it for me.  

"Carry each other's burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ." (Galatians 6:2)

Well, that's what's been percolating in me lately.  

October 2011 Fresh Grounded Thoughts

What God Has Been Teaching Me Lately 

Put On Your Mask First         

Over my years of air travel, I've accumulated well over 100,000 miles.  And although those miles have taken me to lots of different places, there is one thing all those airlines and flight attendants have in common--the safety briefings!
 
Some flight attendants announce the safety instructions with perfect diction and drama. Some mumble their way through the five minute predictable discourse.  And, some drone on so long that it makes me wish for a power outage so those little red lights would illuminate the floor leading to an emergency exit so I could get out of there!  

I know the job of informing passengers is important, I just think it's humorous how many different presentation styles there are!  But, no matter the style or script, the flight attendant always instructs you to "put on your mask first before assisting the passenger next to you."  

If there is a sudden change in pressure, oxygen masks will drop from the compartment above you.  Each passenger is instructed how to pull it toward you, place it over your nose and mouth and strap it on.  You are told to put on your mask first because if you try to help someone else get their mask on while you are gasping for air and turning blue, you won't be any help at all!  

It isn't selfish or self-serving to "put on your mask first."  Rather, it is wise stewardship of your energy and abilities.  The same applies to our lives.  If we never put on our own mask first, we will peter out from trying to help others.  Mother Theresa once said, "To keep a lamp burning we have to keep putting oil in it."

We must pay attention to our needs so we will be equipped to meet the needs of others.  So, what is your oxygen mask?  What is it in your life that you need to pay attention to?  Is it rest?  If you're exhausted, you can't serve your family like you want to.  You will just become cranky or run down, primed for illness and frustration.  Is the oxygen mask you need exercise?  When we neglect to take care of our bodies so they become weak or overweight, we limit ourselves to how and when we can be involved with helping others.  It isn't selfish to take care of yourself.  Taking time each day to take a walk, do some Pilates with a video or take an aerobics class at a gym will give you renewed strength and interest in giving to others.  Maybe your oxygen mask is solitude.  We all need time alone just to think, pray and breathe.  If we neglect carving out time to regroup and connect with God, we will be empty when it's time to give to others.  

The flight attendant always precedes his or her instruction with, "In the unlikely event of an emergency...."  But, here's the way I see it--emergencies aren't unlikely at all!  We are often called to put on someone's mask.  Emergencies are as predictable as the delays at the airport!  So, if we begin each day with the habit of putting on our masks first, we will be more equipped to fasten on others' masks when they need it most.  

Take care of yourself, sister.  You are the best qualified to do so.  Discover what your "oxygen mask" is--you may have several--and strap it on each day!  You can't minister to others if you're gasping for air!

Well, that's what's been percolating in me lately. 

August 2011 Fresh Grounded Thoughts

 

 

What God Has Been Teaching Me Lately 

No Ordinary People       

Walter Hooper met C.S. Lewis in Oxford, England at The Kilns in June of 1963.  I met Walter Hooper this summer at that same place-The Kilns-C.S. Lewis's Oxford home.  As a young man, Walter traveled across the pond to meet the author who had deeply influenced and inspired him.  As a middle-aged woman, I, too, traveled across that same pond to study the author who had deeply influenced and inspired me.  Yet, I received a treasure I never expected when I arrived...I met Walter Hooper!  

At age 83, Walter Hooper is a gentleman in the truest sense.  He is mannerly and articulate, charming and witty.  A native North Carolinian now living in Oxford, England, he is soft-spoken and has the most delightful Southern accent-with a tinge of jolly old England mixed in!  

I gathered with a group of fellow Lewis cronies at The Kilns in Oxford as part of the C.S. Lewis Summer Institute.  We sipped tea and had the privilege of listening to Walter share so many stories about his time with Lewis.  

So much about this man struck me.  He knew Lewis personally, he knew Lewis's works intimately, he was a friend to Warnie, Lewis's brother, and to several of "The Inklings."  I could go on and on.  But, after listening to this lovely man share story after story, what struck me in my deep place was his deference.  For over 40 years, Walter has dedicated himself to preserving and promoting C.S. Lewis's work as a literary executor and trustee for the estate of C.S. Lewis.  He has edited about 30 pieces of Lewis's work posthumously.  I'm convinced many people might not even know C.S. Lewis as well as they do if not for Walter's work and loyalty. Yet, I bet most people don't even know the name "Walter Hooper."  As he shared, he showed such genuine affection for Lewis and everything he said was uttered with respect.  As our group gathered around him, riveted by each word he spoke, he sought no praise, nor did he solicit interest in himself.  It was as if he received personal satisfaction as he generously shared stories and insights (many of which I am certain he was sharing for the millionth time), just to make us love Jack as much as he did.  But, I don't think his deference was solely that of an admirer.  It was as if Walter saw the value in a life-in Lewis's life and in each life. Maybe he really took to heart what C.S. Lewis wrote in The Weight of Glory:

There are no "ordinary" people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilizations--these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals that we joke with, work with, marry, snub and exploit--immortal horrors or everlasting splendours...

   

Next to the Blessed Sacrament itself, your neighbor is the holiest object presented to your senses.  If he is your Christian neighbour, he is holy in almost the same way, for in him also Christ vere latitat, the glorifier and the glorified, Glory Himself, is truly hidden.  

 

I don't think Walter saw Lewis as extraordinary solely because he had a brilliant mind. I think he saw him as extraordinary because he was a man within whom the glory of God dwelt. He deferred to him not because he was a world famous author, but because he saw him as "the holiest thing presented to his senses."  And honestly, that's how Walter made me feel, too.

 

There are no ordinary people. I'm not one, you're not one, Lewis wasn't one and Walter isn't one, either.

 

 So, let us "Do nothing from selfishness or empty conceit, but with humility of mind let each of us regard one another as more important than himself; do not merely look out for our own personal interests, but also for the interests of others." (Philippians 2:3-4)
 
So, how do you perceive the people in your world?  Ordinary?  Extraordinary?  Could you begin to look for the divine--the immortal--in the "ordinary" people you see?

What if your spouse, your child or your most annoying relationship was really the "holiest object presented to your senses" today?  How might you treat them differently?

 

Well, that's what's been percolating in me lately.  

 

                                   Share your opinions on my blog here! 

July 2011 Fresh Grounded Thoughts

What God Has Been Teaching Me Lately 

Your Rear Guard      

Life really is a journey, isn't it?

 

There are stretches when we march on fearlessly-times we feel indefatigable.  And there are slices of wilderness we wander through that simply wear us out and make us feel like we won't make it.  

 

We often can't see the final destination; we simply march on out of trust.  Because the journey is daily and long, there are many times we can become fatigued.  

 

When the Israelites journeyed through the wilderness for so many years, there were those who wore out.  There were people who couldn't always quite keep up.  It was because they were tired, weak, infirmed or maybe even lazy.  Because they lagged at the rear, they were exceptionally vulnerable to the enemy attack.   

 

For that reason, the tribe of Dan (Numbers 10:25) was tasked with pulling up the rear.  In other words, they were the "rear guard."   They were there to protect the tired stragglers from being such an easy target for the enemy.  

 

We're no different from those Israelites.  We journey.  We get tired.  We can find ourselves straggling and barely making it. Sometimes it's because we're just overwhelmed; sometimes it's fatigue or sickness that drags us down.  Sometimes, we even get there on our own-our inattentiveness or laziness can put us in prime position to become easy prey.

 

Just like the Israelites needed the tribe of Dan to protect the rear while they journeyed, we, too, need protection as we journey through the stretches and slices of our lives.  That is what God does for us.  He becomes our rear guard.  Isaiah 52:12 says," ...For the LORD will go before you, and the God of Israel will be your rear guard."

 

Just think of it--God Himself is your rear guard.  He protects you from a frontal attack because He shields you, and He covers your back because He is your rear guard.  What a beautiful picture!  

 

If you find yourself in one of those long stretches on your journey where you're struggling or straggling, look behind you.  You will see that you're not alone, but rather, protected and preserved by God Himself.  

 

And, God not only offers protection, but He also gives a promise..."Then your light will break out like the dawn, and your recovery will speedily spring forth; and your righteousness will go before you; the glory of the LORD will be your rear guard. (Isaiah 58:8)  I love that!

 

 

Well, that's what's been percolating in me lately.  

 

 

June 2011 Fresh Grounded Thoughts

What God Has Been Teaching Me Lately 

How Do You See the World?    

 

Emerson once said, "People only see what they are prepared to see."  So, how do you see the world?  I see it far more vividly since I got my new iPhone and an app that makes me smile each time I use it.  I know, I know...it's quite a jump to go from Ralph Waldo Emerson to an iPhone app, but stick with me!  The app is called "Color Identifier."  It uses the camera in the iPhone to capture my surroundings and then it announces the colors it sees.  But, unlike the color detector I use to identify my clothing, it has a vast and descriptive vocabulary it uses to communicate.  My color detector simply announces "black" or "blue" or "light yellow" or "olive green" when I press it against fabric.  That is so helpful when it comes to knowing the colors of my clothing, but it serves merely as a reporter.  The Color Identifier, on the other hand, interprets what it sees like a bohemian artist or imaginative poet would!  It uses names for colors like those creative people at Crayola do!  For example, the sky isn't simply "blue," it's "Baltic Sea" on a bright day or "gun smoke" on a cloudy one.  According to the Color Identifier, my front yard is blanketed with tones of asparagus, avocado and Rangoon green!  Can't you just see that?!  My office is an inviting palate of amber, spice, mustard, bamboo, oregano, potter's clay, sepia, nutmeg and Creole!  Isn't that far more interesting and inspiring than shades of "brown?" 

 

Some of us put little thought into what we see.  We settle for "blue" when we've got Wedgewood, cobalt, Danube, cornflower or sapphire surrounding us and just waiting to splash out!  Life can be ordinary or it can be interesting.  We can perceive the world as normal, or it can be far better than normal in the most quirky and attractive sort of way.  It can be "ho hum" or it can be "vavoom!"  We can be flat line in our approach to life or we can be a cardiogram on steroids!  The world around us is far more colorful than we often perceive.  In fact, I believe there's a colorful person in all of us and she can be stifled by a lack of creativity, effort or an unwillingness to really see.  So, try a little harder to see a little more clearly next time you look out your window or into your mirror.  Choose to experience a little more deeply and feel a little more tingly! 

 

Life is beautiful, see it as it truly is.  At least life can be beautiful--it just depends on what you are willing to see when you look. 

 

Blessed are they who see beautiful things in humble places where other people see nothing.

Well, that's what's been percolating in me lately.  

 

                                   Share your opinions on my blog here! 

May 2011 Fresh Grounded Thoughts

What God Has Been Teaching Me Lately 

Where is His Monument?    

 

Mbuyisa Makhubo was an 18-year-old South African schoolboy in 1976.  He lived in the Soweto Township.  Long seething tension rose to the surface and broke loose in the streets of Soweto on that fateful June day as students rebelled against the imposition of another language upon their education.  It was another evidence of the nation's discontent with Apartheid.   Rocks were thrown, guns were shot and students were injured and killed. 

 

One such student was Hector Pieterson. After being shot, Mbuyisa Makhubo scooped the wounded Hector into his arms and ran to the nearest clinic.  Hector's weeping sister ran alongside him.  A photographer caught the tragic depiction on film and it became a famous photograph. The famous picture of him carrying a dying Hector sparked worldwide attention to the injustice in Soweto.

 

Hector did not survive.  But, after the photograph was released, many believe Mbuyisa Makhubo was harassed by the security services and was forced to flee South Africa. His mother, Nombulelo Makhubo, told the Truth and Reconciliation Commission that she received a letter from him from Nigeria in 1978, but she had not heard from him since.

 

No one has heard from him since. 

 

There is now a museum in the Soweto Township named after the boy who died.  The Hector Pieterson Museum depicts the courage and tragedy of that day and the freedom and reconciliation that followed.  It is right that Hector has come to represent victims and activists who struggled in South Africa during Apartheid.  But, why doesn't the hero who sought to carry him to safety have a museum? 

 

Hector was an ordinary boy who was wronged.  Mbuyisa was an ordinary boy who did something right.  Hector lost his life as a result of the horrors of that day in June.  Mbuyisa has been lost ever since. Hector has a museum named after him; Mbuyisa is a missing person. 

 

He would be 53 years old today.  Where is he?  Why can't he be found so I, a woman from Missouri, can thank him and weep at his monument as I did at the Hector Pieterson Museum?  Where is his home?  Where is his grave?  Is there no place to commemorate his life and courage and compassion?

 

I guess his bravery is his monument.  It is a tribute to a man whose name is seldom remembered.  But, without his act, Hector's name would not be remembered either.

 

I want to be like Mbuyisa Makhubo. I want to act out of the impulse of compassion and courage, no matter the cost and no matter the reward.  None of us really need monuments, we just need bravery.  And, our personal courage becomes the monument of a life well lived...even if it is lost.

Well, that's what's been percolating in me lately.