What Lanuguage Do You Speak?

     I am most definitely not a linguist.  I "speak my Southern English as natural as I please," as the old song says.  I have several friends from other countries.  I listen to them speak and barely can form a word in any of their languages.  I suppose I recognize more Spanish, but that may sadly be due to Sesame Street more than having Catalina in my home for three years.  My friends from Haiti amaze me because, after four years,  I can't even try to start to make words from what they say.  German.  No way. 
     I work with a student from another country.  This child amazes me by being able to read big words.  Today I was helping study for an upcoming test, and she knew the definitions verbatim to almost every word.  I realized, though, that she could recite the words but didn't understand exactly what they meant.  I used some things on our desk to demonstrate the definition of one word.  The look in her eyes when she understood what all those words meant was exciting.  I saw the light come on.  Now it meant something to her.  I was glad to be a part of that moment and encouraged her to keep studying for the test.  She will do well because she will recognize the words. 
     As I left I began to think about how I feel sometimes when I am reading God's Word.  I know the words and can read them well.  Sometimes, though, I don't understand what God was trying to say when he strung all those words together.  A lot of times, actually.  Sometimes it seems like I am trying to read in Spanish or German or Creole or French.  I keep going because I can read the words when I really should be stopping to figure out what they mean.  It can be discouraging.  But I firmly believe that God reveals to us what he wants us to see in scripture at the right time.  I can't and don't understand all of it, but when something applies to my life today, he shines a light on it so bright that it suddenly becomes clear and meaningful to me.  Since he helps me understand, it means something.
     Another thing I thought about was the language of love.  Agape love.  Pure, unconditional, selfless, sacrificial.  The love of Jesus.  I don't always share that.  I should.  It's a language everyone can understand.  When you sacrifice something for the sake of someone else, they notice, though they may not understand why.  When you set your own interests aside for the benefit of another, it means something, at least to you.  When you view someone through the eyes of Jesus rather than your own self-imposed standards of the day, your heart softens and love is easier to give.  It's a choice, you know?  Love.  A verb.  An action.  One definition I read said agape love is "love at its ultimate."  The ultimate selfless, sacrificial act.
     Ultimate love.  The best there is.  That's a language I want to learn to speak!  How about you?  The challenge to you and to me is to be aware of the people who cross our paths each day and to put ourselves aside as we make a choice to love the way God does.  I want to be able to say, "I speak agape love as natural as can be....it's in the heart of Jesus, it's in the heart of me."  Won't you join me on this adventure of learning to speak the language of love?
    

Learning Something New

     They say you are never too old to learn.  It's true, and, learning new things can bring some wondrous adventures and joy to your life if you are just willing to try.  I decided over the holidays that I want to learn to crochet.  I have always envied those who could take a piece of string and make something beautiful and useful from it.  My sister makes very nice things and made a beautiful throw for my daughter.  I want to make pretty things too.   

     SO, I took myself to Wal-Mart  and bought the basic supplies.  A crochet hook, some pretty, multi-colored yarn, and an instruction book.  I went home, got the book out, browsed through it hurriedly and started to work.  It wasn't totally unfamiliar.  As a teen I was introduced to the craft and was pretty good at making a chain.  Sadly, that's all I ever learned to make.  I was ready now.  Ready to make something useful and real.  A dishcloth.  The instructions were in the new book I bought.  How hard could it be?

     Make 41 chain stitches.  Done.  Then my book told me to "Hdc in third ch from hook (2 skipped chs count as first hdc) and in each ch across: 40 hdc."  WHAT IN THE WORLD???  Ok, there is a picture in the front of the book showing me what an hdc is.  Easy enough.  I quickly figured it out and managed to get one row completed.  Time to turn.  So I did.  Several rows later I realized I had missed something.  My dishcloth didn't look square and regular.  It was very uneven and misshapen.  Back to the book.  OH!  You have to add some chains before you turn. 

      SO, I unraveled the whole thing and started again.  This time, I wanted to experiment with some different stitches - just to practice.  It was fun to learn them and to see myself getting better at handling the thread and needle.  After a day or so I unraveled it again to start over on my dishcloth.  This time I had something that looked more like a dishcloth than before.  I tried (key word, tried) to finish it by putting on the edging...without fully reading the instructions.  One side of it was ruffled and pretty.  One side was probably closer to right.  I didn't even attempt the third side.  I unraveled it and rolled a beautiful ball of colored yarn. 
     This time my sister came to give me some pointers.  Her advice?  "Read the instructions."  UGH!  That takes too much time!  I want to do this, not sit around reading about it! She showed me an easier way to make my starting knot and sat with the book helping me read those pesky instructions.  Let me say this, in case you don't know, crochet instructions are printed in the language of Crochet, not English.  I have had to learn a new vocabulary AND the shorthand that goes with it.  The instructions are a bunch of letters and stars and symbols combined in a paragraph that is supposed to mean something.  She explained it and it made a lot more sense. 
     I started again.  By now my yarn is becoming worn, so this is it.  I can't start over again.  My stitches have gotten more even, and, since I have been following the pattern instructions, my dishcloth is looking pretty good!  It's square and regular in shape.  It's not perfect, but it's pretty good for my first attempt.  I think it will wash plenty of dishes without falling apart! 
     Last night I looked at the book a little more.  Since the title is, Learn to Crochet, one should think it would be useful.  It is, IF you stop to read it!  The first page starts with explaining the "anatomy of a crochet hook."  Turns out it matters where you put your fingers, where you wrap the yarn, how many loops you make and how you pull it through.  It matters that there is a "right side," though I have yet to figure out how you can tell the difference.  The next several pages of the book give diagrams and instructions on how to make the stitches.  I had already skimmed those.  Then I found this page:  UNDERSTANDING INSTRUCTIONS.  Oh.  Hmm.  Well. 
     Read the instructions.  Read the book.  I can't help but think about how we live that out as women trying to follow Christ.  We want to jump in and get things accomplished.  Help the poor.  Feed the hungry.  Go on a mission trip.  Sing in the choir.  Teach a class.  Lead a group.  Organize the nursery.  And we don't stop to read The Book.  God's instruction book for our lives.  The Bible.  Have you read yours today?  Do you read it regularly?  How different does your life (dishcloth) look when you have read the instructions and live accordingly?  We can choose to do life on our own, floundering and struggling to figure out what to do next, frustrated because life is turning out the way we thought it would.    However, taking some time every day to sit down with the Lord and read His Word shines a light on what we are trying to do.  We begin to understand why what we are trying isn't working out just right.  It's also important to have someone to share with you, someone to mentor you and answer questions for you.  Someone to encourage you to keep going.  Someone who has been "there" and can offer advice, even it is, "Read."
     I encourage you today to get out and learn something new.  Plan some adventures for this year.  But, don't just jump in with both feet, take some time to read the instructions!
    

It's a New Year!

     I have been meaning to write on here for weeks.  But the holidays have kept me busy.  There are so many things to share - so many adventures that were had.  I love the Christmas season.  I love the lights, the trees, the red and green, the music, the giving, the togetherness.  It is a season of love.
     Tonight I want to share with you about an adventure I had way back on December 2nd.  I had been to my six-week appointment with Dr. Arrowsmith.  He was all smiles and happy about my progress and status.  I left there feeling good about where my cancer journey had brought me.  I graduated to six-month check-ups!  As I walked through the lobby of the doctor's office, I heard it.  Someone was playing the baby-grand in the lobby. 
     She had on one of the blue jackets the volunteers wear.  She was a little sprite of a thing.  Her hands were arthritic.  Some would consider her too old to be able to do anything.  They would change their minds when they heard the notes of "Silver Bells" coming from that piano.  It was captivating.  I found a chair behind her to sit for a few minutes to listen and enjoy her talents.  It made my heart happy.
     I sat there and watched her hands float over the keys as she played.  She had sheet music.  I play piano and I don't think I have ever played anything with that many notes on the page.  She rarely looked at it.  She shifted on the bench and never missed a beat or a note.  She watched people.  She reached up and turned the page.  She played like no one I have ever heard.   To say that it was beautiful is horribly lacking.  She is a gifted woman and I was privileged to hear her play.
       The people who were within listening distance were like me.  Cancer patients.  Some waiting to find out the results of a biopsy or MRI.  Some taking chemo.  Some taking radiation.  Some past the treatments and ready to move on with life.  Like me.  Even today, when I think about her, I smile.  She used her gift to bring joy to others.  Which raises the question, how have I reached out to bring joy to someone I don't even know?