faithuntamed

Tag: jesus

  • I choose Love

    This past week I worked at a conference of nature educators.

     I made sure snack bowls were filled, set up chairs and helped presenters with random needs. In return, I had the pleasure of sitting in on a series of talks about early childhood, nature education, climate crisis, sustainable practices and policy making.

    You name it. If it involved our natural world, or early education, there was a workshop to attend.

     My deeply buried, inner law-student emerged as I chose to sit in on a slew of policy workshops.

     I was horrified at the statistics that point to our apathy, my apathy; the feeling that this world is disposable, that pollution and ecological harm, that growing inequity for basic needs are justified for whatever urgent desire or capital gain is pressing.

      I was also in awe at the work being done by extremely creative and passionate souls who simply exemplify compassion and action. Souls from around the world who say, “This is not okay. Let’s imagine some solutions. ‘What if…’? How can we shape the ‘what if…’ into reality?”

    Mostly, I felt an overwhelming sense of shame and panic.

    Shame that we, as a society, have allowed things to get to this state. Shame at my own apathy and indifference. Shame for the parts I have played, and no doubt, continue to play.

    Panic as I watched those around me frantically try to imagine solutions to fix our mess.

    I did my part. I signed up for a few tasks, offered to comb through slews of bills. I listened. I prayed.

    “God…we have created quite a mess, what is my part here?”

    Hot Stuff and I recently spent some time on the Texas Gulf Coast with family.

    During this vacation, I spent hours looking out at the ocean in complete wonder and gratitude. I had forgotten that God’s creation, the animals, the humans, the trees, the oceans, the sunsets are God’s gifts to us. It was humbling.

    God has gifted us a beautiful world, and I am reminded of 1 Corinthians 13. The “love chapter”.

    If I speak in the tongues[a] of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. 2 If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. 3 If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast,[b] but do not have love, I gain nothing.

    4 Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. 5 It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. 6 Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. 7 It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

    8 Love never fails.

    We are called to stewardship, and I desire to be the best steward for God’s creation I can from a spirit of love and gratitude for what is still here. Not out of shame and panic.

    Even in the midst of our neglect, we still have springs that provide water, we still have vast oceans and beautiful canyons. We have trees that blow in the wind. We have gentle breezes and stunning sunsets.

    God keeps giving even when we are a hot mess.

    I choose gratitude and love in small steps.

     I will comb through bills with a backdrop of love and gratitude. I will continue introducing young children to the joys of nature because I choose love. I will care for the creatures before me because I choose love.

    I will continue to write, because I choose love.

    And just in case you didn’t know?

     YOU ARE LOVED.

  • My lupus journey..

    May was lupus awareness month.

    I realize this is now June, but I want to share a little of my autoimmune journey and what God has shown me along the way.

    I won’t give you all the sordid details of the journey to diagnosis.

    Just know that I have been diagnosed with lupus and antisyntethase syndrome (A.S.S. for short. Yes. I think this is funny). To paraphrase,  lupus attacks my organs whenever it pleases. A.S.S.  attacks my muscles as it pleases. Both lupus and A.S.S. love to play in my lungs.

    Before being diagnosed, I was fulfilling a long-term desire to complete law school. It was during finals of my 2L year when I was first diagnosed with lupus. I tried to push through anyway.

    For me, this was a TERRIBLE idea. Several ER visits later, I realized I could not maintain legal studies. I went from cramming for finals to being homebound for the next three years.

    I looked okay on the outside. Inside? Several of my organs were having a party and creating chaos. Breathing was becoming a real struggle.

    It was during my many months/years in bed that I learned to fail at many things.

    Think I’ll check the mail..oops. That was a bad idea…too much sun..flaring…back to bed. Think I’ll do some dishes…oops…I’m exhausted..I can’t breathe. Back to bed.

    I learned to fail well. To truly accept failure as a new way of learning what i could and could not do.

    It took some grieving.

    I learned to say goodbye to my lawyering dreams, to say goodbye to ever returning to my previous work with the special needs community. I learned to accept the reality that I could not be relied upon to complete obligations.

    It was during this season of being homebound, that I learned to lean deeply into prayer.

    That first summer, after being mostly stuck in bed for what seemed like an eternity, I kept asking God, “What is happening here? I thought I was going to be a voice for those who could not advocate for themselves. That I would love my neighbor by standing up for them when they could not.”

    I received no answer.

    I slept a lot.

    When I was awake, I prayed. Truth was, praying was the only thing I had strength to do.

     I prayed for understanding. I slept.   I prayed for clarity. I slept.  I prayed for my church family. I slept. I prayed for our neighbors. I slept.  I prayed for my children. I slept.

     I began taking prayer requests from others. I prayed. I slept.

    Mathew 11:28-30
    28 “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. 29 Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. 30 For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”

    I would watch Hot Stuff work several jobs and donate plasma to offset my medical expenses, while I prayed and slept.

    I felt utterly useless. I felt guilty.  I was like “God, you have GOT to be kidding me.”

     When I apologized to Hot Stuff for not being to contribute to our household in any tangible way, he would just grin and say “Sweetie, you would do the same for me.”

    He was right. I would. But I still felt bad for him. I wanted to ease his burden and all I could do was pray. I know there is value in prayer, but sometimes it is easy to forget that value.

    I wanted to be of tangible value. Value that could be seen.

    God had other plans. I needed to learn the value in just being. The value in praying silently.

    I had to learn to receive Tracey’s giving sacrifices of time and energy, gracefully. To be honest, I still struggle with this.

    This homebound, stuck-in-bed season, was a huge crash course on learning to be dependent on others.

    I began thinking about my years working at a day-hab for adults and children with developmental and emotional delays. Clients who were sometimes completely paralyzed, but still could laugh while you changed their diaper. Clients who had every reason to be angry, depressed, and constantly anxious, but who had developed a quiet resilience and love of small things.

    Maybe I had been gifted those years with these precious souls to prepare me for lupus life now.

    After the end of the first 6 months of prayer, I realized my life ambitions had shifted from being an immigration lawyer to simply having the graceful humility and ability to listen and communicate with my heart. My previous dayhab clients, were my new heroes.

    I was led to Galatians 5:22-23.

     22 But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, 23 gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law.

    I spent the next three years, dwelling on the freedom this scripture brings.

     I didn’t have to be physically fit. I didn’t have to contribute to my household. I didn’t have to be socially active.

     I may desire these things…but I could still love and love deeply.

     I could find joy in small things.

     I was getting a CRASH COURSE in forbearance…as was Hot Stuff.

    I could spend my life turning to God to cultivate kindness, goodness and faithfulness within my heart.

     I could learn to be gentle towards myself as well as others.

    Everyone knows I could benefit from cultivating self-control. Yeah. I still need lots of help from God on this one. I’m a work in progress😊

    As I became slowly healthier, I began writing. All. The. Time.

    I started taking my writing more seriously.  I began some long-term writing projects. Works that are still in process.

    Somewhere along the line, my doctors got me sorted with a nice cocktail of medications and God graced me with a little autoimmune reprieve.

     I don’t know how long this little auto-immune reprieve will last. I still have a team of specialists I see regularly. I still have a ridiculous amount of lab work done on an ongoing basis. I can still feel like I’m starting a cold on Thursday and have bronchitis or pneumonia on Saturday. I still get easily fatigued. I never know what my energy level will be.

    But I will savor this season while I can.

    I wish I could say my prayer life is just as constant, deep and active as it was when I was homebound. But it’s just different. I think that is okay.

    I am grateful for these “bonus years” where I get to teach, and write, and actively engage with family and friends.

    I hope I never lose sight of the tings God has shown me.

  • A Different Lens

    This morning I am sitting on my front porch.

    Next to me is a glass table holding a plant I cannot name, a paperback romance, my cell phone, and a glass of tea. My dog barks at a neighborhood boy on a bicycle. I can hear birds chirping everywhere. I smell Fabuloso floor cleaner, Mr. Clean, and a mix of wet dirt and just rained, morning air.

     I spent the morning cleaning and now I can just chill on my porch for the rest of the day.

    Spring Break is a beautiful thing.

    I am just a tad chilly in my jeans, t-shirt and my flannel shirt that is pretending to be a jacket.

     My pretend flannel jacket/shirt that has two pairs of glasses in my pocket. One pair for reading, one for seeing, and my computer glasses are currently on the top of my head.

    Wow. Three pairs of glasses. Each one assisting me to see different parts of the world more clearly.  Unfortunately, none of these help me see my music during orchestra rehearsals. Do I (gasp) need a fourth pair for seeing sheet music?

    Last rehearsal, I kept leaning into my stand partner’s arm to see the music. You know, the arm that is moving up and down the neck of the violin to play notes. After apologizing for the gazillionth time, my stand partner assured me that he had difficulty seeing also. I mean look, he says the notes are extra tiny on this piece.(I think he was being polite) He assured me he was bringing a light to place on our music stand next rehearsal.

    The violinist behind me just laughed. Forget it. Nicole, you just need your own stand with a light on your head.  Gotta love the support of fellow musicians.

    So, yes. A visit to the optometrist to get orchestra glasses is in order.

    I am telling you about my declining vision, because this Lent I chose to give up coveting. I want to see clearer. To see what my world looks like if I become more aware of the things, circumstances, situations I covet.

    I feel like I am spending WAAY too much time on Amazon. I am trying to buy the life I want instead of just living it. I spend too much time on Zillow..wondering what it would be like to have a home of our own, or another place to rent..

    Relationships? I covet what appear to be healthy/authentic/enjoyable adult-children’s relationships that some of my friends have cultivated. Relationships where they see their kids and grandkids all the time.

     As I realize the circumstances I am putting as larger than God, I feel covetous. The circumstances in which I am unappreciative. I feel guilty. I feel ungrateful. This realization spiralsl into shame…which leads to more retail therapy…back to Amazon, back to Zillow. How do I buy the life I desire?

    When this year’s lenten season started, I was like Okay, God…help me see all the areas I am covetous. Uhm..and gently please.

    I wonder what covetousness is, exactly.

    I looked up definitions on Google. So many variations..from doing something you shouldn’t to obtain an object to, what I think I was struggling with. Turning your desire for some thing, circumstance, or situation to change that the desire becomes a false idol. Covetousness.

    That God is not enough.

    And there it was. My new lens to see through. Did I really believe that God is not enough?

    Did I believe that God wasn’t enough because I had some children that don’t keep in touch as much as I would like? Children that are NOT afraid to tell me what is really going on. What their opinions are, when they are stressed, when they are excited. Children who aren’t afraid to say Mom, I’m going to be really busy, so it will be awhile before we can talk.

    I read an article from a mom who saw her children every week and had no idea what was going on with them. I realized that my weekly text thread, and periodic visits were very real. I was wanting quantity over quality.

    I used to pray that my own children would never be afraid to tell me what they really thought. I realize this prayer has been answered. I just don’t always like what I hear.

    How many other answered prayers am I living?

    My home, the one I keep complaining about. The home with no central air or heat. The home with slanted floors and electrical outlets that don’t work. Hot Stuff and I prayed for this home. Why? Because we wanted space for our family and friends. AND because I LOVE this front porch!

    This neighborhood. The one with a cat colony(ugh), and airplanes flying overhead all the time.

    I prayed to live in this neighborhood years before I moved here. At the time I was living in a small, Tx. hill-country town. I wanted desperately to move back to the city in which I grew up. I missed living in a city.

     To know what a healthy, real, loving and kind marriage is. To know what it is like to be married to a best friend. Answered prayer.

    The weirdo dog that I get irritated with? An answered prayer

     A small prayer. Hey God, I wonder what it’s like to have a cat…

    That week, the weirdo dog, led us to a stranded kitten. There had been a crazy storm the night before. The dog led us to a kitten, stranded in a puddle.

    A kitten that Hot Stuff never wanted and now can’t stand to leave at home.

    Wanna go to dinner? I’ll ask Hot Stuff on the way home from work.

    Sweetie…the pets. The cat’s gonna be mad. I’ll cook dinner.

    Yup. The cat that now rules our house.

     An answered prayer.

    My job? I wonder what it would be like to work at the zoo?   

    What do you know, lupus and all. Makes no sense, but I get a job with the zoo. Still in education, but the zoo none-the-less. Answered prayer.

    Hot Stuff’s job as a pool tech. Albinism and all, still makes no sense. My husband applied on a whim. Turned out, his (now) supervisor, is an old friend. Answered prayer.

    The first day of my Spring Break, Hot Stuff and his friends practiced music at our house.

    The house we prayed for was filled with praise music. A house filled with laughter, seriousness, music and deep friendship.

    God has given me a new lens to look through this Lent.

    I hope I don’t lose sight of this new clarity.

  • I am the Woman at the Well

    When asked who I relate to the most in the bible? Hands down, the answer is the Samaritan woman at the Well. (John 4:1-40)

    It was not always this way.

    For years I thought I was more like Miriam. (Exodus) A carer for siblings (Exodus 2:1-10), a musician and prophetess (Exodus 15:20-21)

    But then it happened. I hit my rock-bottom when I was in my early 40’s.

    I was in a marriage that was beyond repair. I believed in the sanctity of marriage and was simply going to hang in for the “worse” part of “better or worse”

    Then?  I did the unthinkable and after 22 years of marriage, I stepped into the arms of another man.

     The affair that lasted several months. I absolutely hated myself. Finally, i just couldn’t anymore.

    I left this guy stranded at a campground and returned home. Confessing all to my first husband.

     I had betrayed the trust of my family. Hurt the people I love most.

    “How?” I would ask myself. “How did I get here?”

    I knew I was in over my head. I began a 12 step program and therapy. I immersed myself in deep study of the women of the bible. I’m talking hours a day for almost 3 years.

    One day my therapist said, “Nicole, you have over 40years of bottled-up dysfunction and it spilled out in the form of an affair,” . It was only after her insight that I could begin the journey of forgiving myself.

    I began the lifelong work of understanding codependency. Understanding and owning my part. I am still a work in progress.

    As  I developed more social and emotional tools, I acknowledged it was time to leave my marriage.

    It was an AWFUL separation. If it could go wrong, it did. Family shunning, smear campaigns, safety issues, job losses,..it was an unending nightmare.

    During this time, Hot Stuff stood by my side. Hot Stuff, my friend and now husband.

    Hence husband number two.

    A man whom I had met in prison years before. A man who had committed a pawn shop robbery when he was in his early 20’s. The kindest, gentlest, and strongest man-of -faith I knew.

    Still, what my family saw was a mom who had cheated and then left for a guy who had been in prison.

     It is easy to see why I became a social pariah. The “woman at the well” so to speak.

    “I am not worthy to be loved by you.” I tell God. “I have alienated my family and failed bringing them closer in relationship with you”

    “Yes” God replies. “And now you are with another.”

    “I have hurt the people I love the most.” I tell God. “Yes” God replies. “I see you. I choose you. Go and tell others what I have done for you.”

    I am reminded of this because even though Hot Stuff and I have been married for almost a decade, I still have family members and previous friends who see me as reckless and selfish.

    I am still held in unforgiveness by some.

    And yes, it hurts.

    To be seen as unworthy ALWAYS hurts.

    But here’s the thing, what is gossip for some, is now my testimony.

    I KNOW what I have been forgiven for. I KNOW that I can’t do this thing called life in my own strength. Many people don’t ever have this gift of KNOWING.

    So to me? My faith is very real. It is a gift to be seen in your vulnerability and be accepted. To be a vulnerable warrior.

    I had a friend tell me once that the reason the womAn was by herself at the well was because she was not allowed to be with the womEn at the well. The womEn went together for social and safety reasons.

     The womAn was “uninvited”, “didn’t make the cut”, “unworthy”…

    “I am unworthy” she tells Jesus.

    “I am unworthy” I tell Jesus.

    I would much rather be the womAn at the well than the women. Unfortunately, there are seasons in my life I have been the women.

     I have learned to forgive myself for that as well. To do better moving forward.

     By the Grace of God, I have learned that owning  my mistakes and learning from them is all any of us can do. I have been gifted with courage, unconditional love, and emotional bravery.

    Thank you, God, for  meeting me at the well.

  • A prayer

    It is 20ish degrees outside in my South Texas City. The streets are covered in ice.

    I wake up super early this morning to spend some time with God.

    Family events, personal events, national events. All bitter sweet. Bitter because there is so much heartbreak. Sweet because, well, there is love mixed into all of it.

    I have a new grand child. My heart is pierced with a painful love. I am so in love, yet family estrangements make it difficult for me to be a part of her life.

    I think of all the children at work.. I wonder, how do I protect my students, my neighbors, my family? I research what legal safeguards are still in place.

    I watch the political violence in Minneapolis.

     I am mortified.

    I simply cannot fathom any way/time/circumstance in which  political violence against the vulnerable is considered acceptable. Yet I have seen this violence played out my entire life. In Timisoara, Romania as a child, in Los Angeles, CA, US in my twenties, all along our Southern Borders for the past decade and a half..

    I wish, so very much, that we would learn from our mistakes in history.

    I pray.

    “Dear One (for this is how I refer to God in my prayer journals) What do I do with this? What is my part? How do I stay involved with a grandchild with whom I have no access? How do I cultivate unity in my family? In my neighborhood? How do I stay true to my social conscience and to you?”

    I turn to Mathew 6:9-13   I read, and re-read the Lord’s prayer.

    I ask..”How do I really walk this out?”

    So here it is..my super personalized Lord’s Prayer. Paraphrased by…me.

     Our father who art in heaven   
    Dear One  in heaven

    Hallowed be thy name
    Please reveal yourself to me and my family, so we may all draw closer in relationship to you, each other and the world around us.

    Your kingdom come. Your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.
     Help me love my neighbor and welcome the stranger. Help me advocate for the vulnerable,  act mercifully and walk humbly today.

    Give us this day our daily bread.
     Thank you for my literal “bread” of breakfast tacos this morning and my spiritual “bread” of life, love and laughter today.

    Forgive us our trespasses
          Please open my eyes to those I have hurt. Give me wisdom to ask for forgiveness and make amends.

    As we forgive those who have trespassed against us
    Please remove seeds of bitterness or resentment I have in my heart to those who continue to hurt me, intentionally or not. Help me in my unforgiveness.

    Lead us not into temptation
    Please keep me away from amazon…  Please help me not to desire things, people or circumstances that are not for me. Help me accept and celebrate my life as it is right now.

    Deliver us from evil
    Please give me the wisdom and understanding to navigate malicious intent.

    Amen.

    I love you.

  • Cultivating

     It is always process for me to land on a word as a yearly intention. A word I try to sew deep in my heart as a navigate my day-to-day life.

    This year’s search for my “word” started with surface desires. I want to take my writing seriously for a year. See where it leads. I want to join the community orchestra because I miss playing with an orchestra.

    But also, I keep thinking about Jehoshaphat, King of Judah. (2 Chronicles)

     I was driving home from work one afternoon, when the DJ said, ‘or we could be like Jehoshapha, saying “hey, why don’t we try letting God in..” 

    I do not know much about Johosaphat, so I turn to Scripture and look him.

    As I read the story, I realize this is a story about intentionally letting God in at both at times of rise and times of conflict.  It is also a story about how we fail when we try to rely on our own strength. When we forget to Let God In.

    Hot Stuff and I discuss what it looks like to intentionally let God in. My dear husband says, “It’s simple. Just surrender everything and wait.”

    I am like, “Ugh, there must be more to it.” Truth is, I am a very action-oriented girl. Sitting and waiting has never been my strong point.

    I spend a bit of time reflecting on what  “letting God IN” is. It feels more like a path than an intention.  When I land on a word for the year I pray. I pray until I get a knowing in my spirit.

    I did not have the knowing. Just a “Yup, Nicole…don’t forget to let me in.” from God.

    Then?  I listened to an Abiding Together podcast on Cultivating Unity. It was one of a Three-part series on cultivating. Cultivating peace, beauty and unity.

    As I listened, I knew that my word for this upcoming year was simple. A year of cultivating.

    Cultivating my heart to understand the difference between anger and contempt. To actively listen to those in front of me. Especially those with differing opinions about things I hold dear. To ask, (in the words of St. Francis of Assisi) how can I “listen to understand rather than be understood”?

    How do I recognize and step away from gossip in the family, among friends, in the workplace?

    How do I cultivate grace within my heart in a world that is becoming more polarized by the second?

    This is where Jehosaphat comes back…

     I make the intention to remember to let God into all aspects of my life…my relationships, my finances, my work choices, my listening.  I am intentional in cultivating the grace of God in my heart. Because without that grace, I cannot hope to cultivate peace, beauty and unity within myself and my immediate surroundings.

    I look up cultivate in the Oxford Dictionary; try to acquire or develop (a quality, sentiment, or skill)

    I get to cultivate the grace of God in my heart. I look forward to knowing God more intimately as I take the time this year, to see the obstacles of grace within my heart.

    Cultivating grace is an inward act, the dig deep and lean on God part. But what about action? After all, I am still an action-oriented person. I believe “tactile learner” or “a bit hyper-active” are other words for this.

    I feel this is the year that I dig deep and cultivate my writing. I wonder how writing fiction fits with cultivating unity, peace, beauty.

    And then I hear a TED talk on ecological imagination and the need for more ecological science fiction.

    Yay, because that is what I have been playing with these past few years. A story of child pirates in an ecologically imagined future. A writing project I put aside this past summer and just recently picked back up.

    Just as the talks on CULTIVATING resonated with my heart, this challenge resonated as well.

    My action for the year is just that.  To complete the manuscript for project Captain Sasha. I have spent this past week, beginning the deeper research on the effects of global warming as I attempt to create a more scientifically accurate world for my young fictional pirate friends. The more I research, the deeper the rabbit trail goes.

    While my overactive imagination can often get me in trouble, this time, I believe it can help. AND I just happen to LOVE research projects. So here we go, God and I. Using my weaknesses as a strength. After all, isn’t that what we are all called to do?

    To lead with our weaknesses? Lots of room for God that way. No delusion of simply relying on my own strength because it’s not quite there.

    God says,” Hey, you want an action item? Come, follow me. Let’s CULTIVATE your writing, shall we? Let’s have some fun and I’ll show you how to do your part in caring for my creation.” (Genesis 1:26-28, Leviticus 25:1-7)

    Looking forward to 2026’s journey of intentional cultivating.

    Can’t wait to see how it unfolds.

  • The Love Shack

    Yup. That is the sign that hangs next to our kitchen door.

    The kitchen door, which serves as the only working entrance to our home. (thanks shifting home)

    Still, I love our quirky home. This drafty house with the constantly shifting foundation . Do I love the orange, cracked walls? Hah, not so much.

    Since “our home” is a rental. The orange stays. Still, a decade ago, Hot Stuff and I prayed that we could live here.

    At the time we lived behind our current home in a small studio. We would imagine the possibilities of hospitality that could happen in this home.

    We vowed that if we ever lived here, we would always welcome our brothers and sisters in Christ. That we would be a safe place for friends and family to recharge as they did the hard work of ministry. Why? Because ministry burns people out.

    Our part of the big picture was simple. Offer a place to recharge. To hang out.

    So we named the house “The Love Shack“. Yes, it was also based on The Love Shack by the B52’s…simply because I thought it was funny.

    This morning, I am sitting in the quiet of our home. It is the first time I’ve had the house to myself in a week. It is beautiful.

    The silence. The fake fireplace. The pets at my feet. And time to reflect.

    Hot Stuff and I often fall short on our efforts at hospitality. We are both introverts and enjoy a lot of down time. We get tired and irritable. We are sometimes insensitive to the needs and desires of the family and friends around us. We might offer unsolicited advice, or may not listen when someone needs to be heard

    Sometimes, ugh, our house smells like pets.

    Our house gets messy, just as our hearts get messy.

    As I am discussing our failures at hospitality to God, I am reminded of 1 Corinthians 13:

     If I speak in the tongues[a] of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. 2 If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. 3 If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast,[b] but do not have love, I gain nothing

    I realize that even if Hot Stuff and I aren’t very graceful at times, we genuinely love and care for those in our lives. Instead of seeing this scripture as a warning (as I have in years past) I see it as affirmation. Our hearts are in line with God’s.

    God IS love.

    As long as we lean on Him..then he can help our hearts stay strong in the foundation of love. Even where we fail.

    Then I am reminded of my Captain Sasha manuscript.( a writing project I have been playing with for the past couple of years)

    Last week, I pulled out my old manuscript of Captain Sasha to review what I had shelved 8 months ago. You know what? I had a more solid story than I remembered. It was kind-of fun. Still a long way to go. Massive editing to do, a few unexpected turns that help it flow..and a LOT more writing to do.

    I’m excited to dive back in.

    I realize that my 1/2 finished Captain Sasha manuscript is no different than our history of hospitality. It needs some editing, some revisions, some turns moving forward.

    Our lives are still a story in progress.

    So grateful to have God’s love as the foundation.

    Welcome to the Love Shack. All are most welcome.

  • Spirit of Kindness

    This morning, as I was ordering more ink for my printer, I got a call from my rheumatologists office.

     I have been weaning myself off of a medication that I really need. Why?  Because I have joined the ranks of the uninsured.

     I informed my rheumatologist’s that I could pay for my meds out of pocket, but I couldn’t afford the lab work that comes with it. I asked how to proceed.

    I never heard back. I did the only thing I could do, I started weaning myself off of the meds. Thiss morning I realize I have 5 days of partial medication left.

    Then? I get a call. “Dr.D says come in anyway. We will do labs here and bill you later. You can’t afford to get off of x medication because your muscles are gonna go crazy later.” (It’s a myositis thing).

    After I hang up, I sit and cry in relief.

    Once again, humans have shown grace in the midst of the mess.

    I remember years ago, when I was working with refugees from Darfur. I went into a deep dive on the number of genocides that occur at any given time around the world. I was getting into a deep funk about how haunting humans can be.

    Yet…we were still in existence as a species. I wondered how.

    The more I listened and researched, I saw/heard a recurring theme of random acts of kindness and grace that helped sustain hope for survivors of these genocides. This kindness story surfaced in every person’s story.

    It occurred to me, that the only way we survive ourselves is through the goodness and kindness within and among us.

     Galatians 5:22-23 The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. Against such things there is no law.

    Right now everyone is going through ridiculous seasons. Deportations of family and friends, strange disappearances for unknown reasons, deaths, job insecurities, partial paychecks, loss of food security, business closures,loss of access to health care, and shrinkflation gone wild.

     Wanna pay a gazillion dollars for 1/3 a bag of chips? Go to my local grocery store.

    We are called to be lights in the darkness. (Mathew 5:16) I see my fellow humans do just that.

     How? By the fruits of the spirit with which we are gifted.

    I want to spend a little time highlighting a few of those acts of kindness I have seen play out just this week….and it’s only Tuesday.

    First, my rheumatologist and his staff, who are trying desperately to keep a slew of patients on their maintenance medications.

    A previous co-worker reports that when he stepped up to pay for his groceries last week, the woman in front of him had already paid for them.

    I have friends that continue to cook and deliver meals for lasagna love. Don’t know about lasagna love? https://lasagnalove.org/    check. It. Out..

    I have a co-worker who brought us all gift bags filled with old school candies. Just because he knows everyone is struggling.

    My son and daughter in law run a small market garden. https://www.harmonymarketgarden.com/ They are currently giving away $20 of produce, to anyone who shows them an EBT card.

    A church friend annually gives Thanksgiving meals to dozens of families. This year she continues.

    My sister gifts grocery store gift cards.

    The acts of compassion and goodness surround us in quiet, understated ways. I bet, if you look, you will see it happening all around you.

    Our churches (and many other ngo’s) continue to provide food for the hungry. Blankets for the cold.

    Friends continue to cook meals for neighbors in need. We check on friends who are sick.  

    We give each other ( friends, family, co-workers, strangers) space to share our fears and concerns. We crack small jokes, we dream, we cry, we sometimes share a little mischief. We pray for one another.

    This spirt of kindness, my friends, is how we survive ourselves.

  • Work and Social Conscience

    What does the LORD require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God. –Micah 6:8

    Last week, I had a day of “how are we going to survive on a part time income” panic. I turn to God and ask, ” what shall I do during this season to best honor you? To keep my eyes on you and not the storm around us?”

    I am led to this scripture from Micah. I laugh.

    The last time I had a rough financial season I was led to “Feed the hungry” (Isaiah 58:10-14)Of course this scripture from Michah, is where I am led.

    We focus on God and our neighbors and we turn our eyes away from the storm.

    I’ve been thinking about what it means to act justly and to love mercy. Specifically, in terms of our employment.

    In years past, Tracey and I have taken jobs to support our family. After all, to us, it’s just a job.

    I realize for many people, work is everything. For us? It’s never been a top priority. Our priorities lie in ministry and family. In the past, when applying for jobs, we never dug into the DEI stances or political contributions of perspective employers. We just show up and work.

    But in a season of constant villainizing of others, and emboldened cruelty, I decide I need to start looking at DEI stances of various companies.

    I am a firm believer in DEI. It’s right there in line with God’s command to “Love me, Love my people” (Mathew 22:36-40..paraphrased by me)

    Recently, lack of a diversity, equity and inclusion commitment led to an openly hostile work environment for Hot Stuff. He had nowhere to turn for help, when discriminatory practices became commonplace at his job.

    I wonder, what is it that is the threat? Especially in terms of a Christian view.

    Diversity? Is diversity the imagined threat? I turn to the old testament (Genesis 10:1-32 and Leviticus 19:33-34 )I turn to the new testament (Galatians 3:28, 3:11, 1 Corinthians 12:12-14, Revelations 7:9) I believe we are called to embrace diversity. Just like the parts of the human body, it is our differences that make us strong.

    Is inclusion? (Acts 10 and 15, Corinthians 12:12-14)

    Is equity a threat??? (Micah 6:8, James 2:1-4)

    I am so frustrated. How is treating others with respect and dignity a threat? It is a line in the sand I am unwilling to cross.

    So now, as Hot Stuff searches for jobs, we start looking at DEI policies of his prospective employers. I am grateful that my job maintains it’s stance to embrace diversity, to be equitable, to be inclusive.

    In essence, Hot Stuff and I are making a conscious effort to spend our work days, not just our free time, walking out the words of Micah. We are choosing to work for companies that act justly and show mercy.

    Being more conscientious of where we work is our small way, of walking humbly with God.

  • Even a Donkey

     Years ago, I preached regularly at a local prison. My mentor told me to simply “unload the gospel.” It was the best advice ever.

    I often question my ability to do this. To unload the gospel.

     Telling God’s love story for each of us?  That is both the scariest and the truest thing I can write. It is the thing I must do.  It  intimidates me the most.

    After all, I am just an ordinary mid-to late-lifer. I work part time in a nature school and teach English as a Second language online.  I am a volunteer in the Texas Prison systems.

    My human frailties are endless. Particularly my addiction to codependency and the trifecta of perfectionism, control and people-pleasing that can come with it.  

    I am an empty-nester.

     I am a Gigi.

     I am happily married to Hot Stuff,man who has exemplified Christ’s unconditional love in human form. We share our home with a dog, a cat and a good friend.

    In other words, I’m just a girl who loves Jesus and her family.

    Who am I to share God’s love story?

     God’s call to come JUST AS WE ARE is central throughout the Gospels. (Mathew 11:28, John 6:37, Luke 5:32, John 7:37, Mark 2:17) Apparently? Just me..is enough.

    Come, He says, Follow Me. We have work to do. (Mathew 4:19, John 10:27)

      And, what an adventure following Him has been! Who would have thought I would develop this whole church family behind prison walls?

    While I love my time in the prison, there were (and are) a handful of men that could not stand the idea of me preaching. Hanging out with the choir, the drama team, praying with the prayer team, that was all fine.

    But, in their hearts these men believe a woman should not be preaching.

     I just showed up, listened, prayed, loved and unloaded the Gospel anyway.

    One Sunday, I was talking to one of my brothers -in-Christ at the prison before a choir practice.

    My friend whom we will call O” looks at me and says, “You know when people complain about you preaching, I tell them ‘Hey, if God could use Baalam’s donkey (Numbers 22:21-39), He can use Nicole, too.’

    “O“meant this as encouragement.

    “Are you comparing me to a donkey?”, I laughed.

    My brother-in-Christ turned red. “No, it’s just that..”

    “No worries”, I assure him.  “I appreciate the Word, and you are right. If God can use a donkey, then surely, he can use me.”

    Now on days when I am overwhelmed with insecurities, I remember the donkey.

     I show up in front of my computer and say “Okay Jesus, here I am. I may be a bit of a mess, but I’m Your mess.  Please, give me the daily bread of life, love and laughter. Help me share this bread with my neighbor. Help me delight in the gifts that you have given me today, and help me trust, that even I can tell your story.

    Here is the story.

    Christ loves you.

    Christ died and rose again for you.

    Love God.

    Love your neighbor.

    The End.