JUST A THOUGHT: tabernacle...

It appears as though God did not want to appoint a king over Israel, until Israel begged God for a king. Something about needing to see it in the flesh, or perhaps to have someone else speak and hear God for them so they no longer have to worry about a relationship with Him. Who knows...

But today I realized something as I was reading my devotional.

It also appears, although the Bible never strictly says so like it does with appointing a king, that God did not have the tent/tabernacle constructed nor the ark, until after the Israelites made the gold calf. Perhaps God preferred not to be confined to a building, even then, and preferred to talk to His people and have an individual relationship with them, but it was because of their insistence (they did insist, after all, that God speak to Moses, instead of any of them) that God decided to make something tangible, visible for them to enter or worship...

Kinda sad, too, when you think about it: confining God to a ritual, rules, and a tent/building, not to mention having little to no personal relationship with Him...As though a person could leave God whenever they exited the tent; prayer-time must have been so droll, too!

(I believe "prayer" as synonymous to "conversation", where I expect interaction or give and take when I talk to God; therefore, a one-sided conversation done by rote would indeed be terribly droll!)

Anyway, it's just a thought...feel free to correct me if I'm wrong!

VALENTINE'S DAY...uh oh?

I have always been a bit on the weird side of things. I love being alone, dating myself (as some call it), deciding when I want to do something--or skip or procrastinate--and knowing immediately whether it will fit in my schedule or budget, etc. It is nice.

I, of course, am accountable to people for things that are important. But things like whether I swept the whole floor today, or just did a cursory sweep, or none at all. Who is to care or know when nobody else is around? Of course I ca not stand something being left undone for too long (my near-OCD kicks in), but I have the option to leave it if I want.

I can get an art project out (like scrapbooking) and know that nobody will complain if I leave it out, unfinished, for however many days in a row I need to finish it. Nobody will find fault with it, either, or ruin it because they did not see it laying there when they threw their coat across the dining room table.

Yes, being single, having my own apartment, has soooo many advantages.

Aside from events, or social outings I go to or plan and host, I can pretty much do what I want, when I want. Go to bed, get up, eat, clean, whenever. If the fancy should strike me, I might dust at 2am.

When I feel like seeing a certain movie, I only have to check the ratings to see if its something I would like, without having to think about who else might see it or dislike/disapprove of it (ie. I can finally watch LOTR again!). And if by some misfortune I start watching something on Netflix that half-way through, I find I can not stand it or it takes an unexpected, go-against-my-moral-boundary twist, I can turn it off without having to deal with complaints as to "We have watched this far, lets finish it" or needing to explain myself. I can just turn it off in the middle.

I can plan one of those "self-dates" and change my mind at the last minute. I went once to a theater for one movie, and decided to do two in a row, skip the dinner afterward, but get popcorn instead--it was a special deal-day at theater where drinks and popcorn were just a $1 anyway.

Since I already know myself, I already know how I think or reason or the why's and why-nots. So no complaints or explanations that most would not understand anyway.

I have even worried about what I would do when I married, since I love alone time as much as socializing! Marriage, while having its benefits, I am sure, has always seemed a bit restrictive to me. Having someone come home to me e-v-e-r-y evening after work? Really? Argh! It would mean only a few hours to myself, and those would be hours I would probably use to clean or cook so the house would be perfect for him each evening, except how then would I find time that would be just mine and nonrestrictive? To use how I wanted?

Yeah, I am sure there are perks to married life, and someday I am sure I will sing a different tune. But for now, I have always loved being single, being alone, having my own domain.

I have spent many a holiday alone, even, and not because I was not invited to something, but just because I prefer it!

This last Christmas I told all my relatives I wanted to spend alone. I did end up Skype-ing a sister in the early morning, though, but then without any other scheduled event, I could go back to bed and sleep way in. And I wrung in this last New Year's by marathon-ing cheesy romantic Christmas movies on Netflix, keeping an eye on the clock, and texting a sister to make sure she was still awake.

Lonely? I do not even understand the word, usually.

Alone, yes. But lonely? Never. I can be quit an amusing person!

In the past, I used to tease my single friends as Valentine's day would creep up on us, because of how emotionally distraught they would get over being single on such a romantic holiday. Or whatever it was they used to say.

I did not understand what the turmoil was all about.

Valentine was a guy who died without ever being with the love of his life. So if anything, it is a holiday celebrating unrequited love, in my opinion, and who wants to celebrate that? Getting engaged, dating, etc on such a holiday just seemed like a bad idea, not to mentioned cliche and over-done! My thought was that a couple should pick a day for themselves, their own holiday, and make it special...

My father has always been my "Valentine," if I ever counted anyone, because from the time I started college and ever since, he has given me a carnation or two to stick in a vase, or a small box of my favorite chocolates, or some other favorite treat, or any combination of the sort. He was my "Valentine" even before movies like Courageous said that the father should be their daughter's first Valentine/date, and thereby set a standard/idea of what the daughter should look for.

I have always enjoyed my single-ness.

So why am I writing, then?

Simple...because this year it bothers me.

I know, I have turned into a cliche...or worse, become just like every single person from any cheesy romantic movie...

I do not know if it bothers me because my hormones are all out of whack; if it is from being unusually snow-bound so much this year. That in about seven months I hit the big uh-oh (3-0) for a single person. That I have gone through a mental list in my head of all my former-single friends and it keeps reading like this "married, significant other, dating, married, married, engaged, married, married, oh and married." We will not even think about the fact that way too many of my married friends are on their what, fourth kid, already? Anyway, whatever it is, this year as Valentine's day sneaks up on me, it actually bothers me!

This year I actually feel sad that I have never gotten to know what it is like to even date, let alone be a couple on any holiday. I watch my friends, hear about their plans, and while I am happy for them (some of them are just down-right straight-from-a-movie adorable over it!), but I actually wonder what it would be like from the inside--their side--of things.

I have never dated, never had a boyfriend, never courted, never been engaged, etc (I am sure you get the point)...but I have never minded...

Until now.

Because now as midnight ticks up, and Valentine's Day starts -- for many other's in a few hours, when they wake up-- I am curious to know what it is like. Is it like Christmas morning for a child? Are you giddy to know what your spouse has planned for you? Excited with anticipation for work to end in the afternoon to find out? Does the day just seem to crawl by until then? Or does everything seem airy and better, like floating on a cloud, just from waiting? Or are you the planner, and thinking through every detail, just waiting with glee to see the look on your spouse's face when you give her that little thing she has been wanting? Or when you tell her you got someone to babysit the kiddos so you could have a simple evening out?

I am curious to know what it is like...and despite all the stories I hear or read or see, nothing will be the same as when I have actually stood on that end of things...and this year, I really wish I was standing over there.

The Christian radio station gave a good suggestion in that it was reminding people to not forget their single friends on Valentine's Day; perhaps by taking them out for dinner, or just dropping by to give them a little something--even just a hug--and let them know you appreciate their friendship, etc...And if I had a car, I would totally be all over that...Besides that, like I said earlier, I do not have any single friends that I can recall; nor can I figure out why a married person, friend of mine or not, would want to take time from the one day a year for the married people to celebrate being married to their best friend to spend some of it with a single friend.

My married, or otherwise engaged, friends, go and have fun this Valentine's Day. Enjoy yourself and your significant other. That is what the day is for...Just, for me, when the day is past, do not forget to tell me about it and perhaps, remember me in your prayers so that maybe next time I will join you with stories to tell, too.

Thank You for Pain

"Your love never fails

It never gives up

It never runs out on me..."

Today, in church as we were singing those words, I found myself saying to God, "Thank You for pain."

What am I saying? Why would I say that?

Let me back up and explain a little about myself for those who do not know me too well or have not known me since infancy.

At eighteen months old I was diagnosed with Juvenile Rheumatoid Arthritis (JRA). It is a painful disease that has even tried to kill me twice in my early childhood. I've had years, though, where I did not know pain; years when I could almost be 'normal'. But it never seems to last.

What? Where's my faith?

That's a question I've been asking myself for the last couple years, because as you've probably noticed my blogs and missions trips just haven't been happening and perhaps it has led y'all to wonder what's going on? And where have I been?

I was healed from a wheelchair, just in time for college and missions trips--living my dreams. And while the affects on my joints (subluxation and several fused joints) nor ont he muscles (JRA sometimes wears out or 'eats away' at the muscles near the joints it attacks), the pain was gone and I believed that God had healed me from JRA and it was only a matter of time before He would finish what He started and fix the after-affects on my joints, too.

And then a couple years ago that all changed when the pain started coming back.

First I questioned acknowledging the pain. Questioned medicine. Questioned my faith. And ultimately what people would say or think, knowing my testimony, if I ever said I was in pain or that "it's back".

Where is my faith? What did I do wrong? Or what can I do to make it right?

And especially, "how can I still find myself drawn to pray for another, when obviously I'm in serious pain?"

How could God use me, if I am broken?

But then today in church, as we were worshiping, I was thinking about a child who was recently diagnosed with a debilitating disease and how much I wanted to give her some advice, some faith, and hope. Help her to know the Love I have come to know through my own pain.

And then as we sang the above song, I found myself bawling as all I could think about was how grateful I am to know pain! How it shaped my childhood in a way nobody else, perhaps would ever know or understand. How God blessed and spoke to me through it; a relationship I am not certain I would have today if not for the pain giving me pause, time, to just be...with Him.

When a person is in pain, the first thing one does is search for a relief.

"Where is that bottle of Tylenol?"

"Where did I leave that cold compress?"

"What of the splint or brace?"

"Would you give me a foot-rub, please?"

Essentially, "How can I relieve this pain? Instantly?"

But those who know pain, know like I do that some pain cannot be 'ride of'. Some pain can only be muffled or suppressed, but is still very much there. It's still screaming, even underneath the "blanket" or behind the "gag". It's still kicking and fighting against the ropes of pain relievers, compresses, and rubs that hold, temporarily. It's still there, just a little bit quieter.

When I was a child, one of my earliest memory is hearing my body fight to breath as the disease gripped my vocal chords and thwarted each attempted breath. yet, I do not remember the pain nor fear of that moment, but rather the comfort, peace, and ultimately Love as I sat above the ambulance in my Father-God's reassuring embrace.

He took over where humans and all our "advances" fail.

He never left me, nor forsook me.

When I would crawl into bed at night, and the pressure of the days' activities would release from my joints, leaving me in such unbearable pain. When it hurt too much to be touched or held, and I would cry myself to sleep, unable to find relief. I can say that I know what it is like when the very second I would close my eyes, I would see Jesus' comforting face before me. To experience love so deep, it could touch the depths of my soul where nothing, not even pain, could. When no one else could, He would hold me in His arms and rock me to sleep, leading me to a place of peace despite the pain in my joints.

I have had Him hold my hand in church services and take me to a garden, where we would dance together and laugh. And yet all the while I was in a wheelchair and my hands ached too much to even shake another's in greeting.

If there is a blessing in pain, if God can truly work all things for His good, then it is this: that I have known the depths of His Love. And yet, even know, I am still learning more of just how deep it goes. Of where it reaches. How...I wish I knew.

This I have learned. This I know from having experienced pain. From having it again. It constantly draws me back to God. And gives me plenty of time to just sit in His presence as it resets the priorities in my life...

You may be fortunate to have never experienced such pain that could make a person scream out in their sleep...but then are you really fortunate?

I have laid hands on the sick and seen them healed. A cross-eyed, partially blind little girl has suddenly looked me in the eyes. All while my knees were aching so much I could barely stand as I prayed.

And it has nothing to do with me. How broken or crippled I appear.

It has everything to do with...

The Ultimate Pain Reliever: It works much deeper then the pain you know or the limits you embrace.

Lesson from Lance: Perfectly Made

I was petting Lance and a thought suddenly struck me as I was observing his markings...

See, Lance has a birthmark that, to me, sets him apart and makes him adorable (a brown patch near his rump), yet it would disqualify him from being a show-dog. But does he even know, or care? Or, for that matter, in everything I've read about understanding dogs, when have they mentioned that dogs talk among each other and complain about their abnormalities or differences? Their noses are too long, or short? What of the length of their hair? Color or closeness of their eyes? Etc? ...Nope...Instead all I hear about is how the dog's first thought or concern is pleasing it's "parent"/owner...

And I wonder...what it would be like if we as Christians stopped focusing so much on our outward -- the spots, speckles, and flaws we can't really change (like the Davis-ski-slope some call a nose?) -- and just focused on pleasing our Father God?

I wouldn't change a thing about Lance's appearance...from his floppy ears, to his bluetick legs, or the brown patch, or...