Clinging

A few days ago, I posted about studying Psalm 23. I ended by saying that we Christians make it through tough times by clinging to each other, to God, and to Psalm 23. I had no idea how soon that would be true for our congregation.


A respected elder in our church lost her daughter unexpectedly this week. We got a phone call in the evening, and my husband went to be with the family at their home. (He wrote eloquently about his thoughts in his blog.) Since then, we have been praying for the family, and my husband has been involved in planning the funeral.

Our congregation is reeling, as you might imagine. But in the midst of much pain, God is so very present. This morning, during our Sunday service, only two people came forward for healing prayer. This is unusual; there are frequently 6-12 persons.

One of them was the member who lost her daughter, and when the time came for the congregation to come forward and lay on hands as we prayed together, many of the congregation came to surround this mourning daughter of Christ with love and support. The front of the church was filled with people clinging to one another, tears in our eyes as we prayed for God's comfort and peace to encircle our sister.

I looked out over the sisters and brothers crowded to the front of the church, hands stretched out to bring love and healing, and I knew, once again, that God was deeply at work among these people. There is much pain and grief on the reservation; many people have lost loved ones too soon.

And I thank God, once again, for calling us to this place...these people. My faith is deepening and growing here among the Jicarilla Apache people. I pray that God will use my life to deepen and grow others' faith as well.

Your prayers for the work of the church in Dulce are much appreciated.

Fear No Evil

What God Has Joined

We studied Psalm 23 last night. You know the one: The Lord is my Shepherd...

We talked a lot about fear, and how this Psalm (and other verses from the Bible) have helped us through difficult times. Have kept us from succumbing to our fears. Have reminded us of God's protection and love.

There were seven adults present, Jicarilla Apache, Anglo, and one self-determined "half-breed." There was a mix of ages, but most were on the far side of forty. In the course of discussing how God is present in difficult times, we naturally discussed "difficult times."

And my heart broke.

Tears filled my eyes when someone discussed the bitter aftermath of their marriage. And two others told of escaping violence in their own homes, bruises, blood, and children in tow.

And another told of the pain and grief of visiting a Holocaust museum in Germany. How the people there stood frozen by the reality of meat hooks hanging from the ceiling of a gas chamber. Collectively, we Christian Jicarilla and Anglo people, gasped for the horror of what was done to the Jews.

But my heart was shattered when a Jicarilla man told of visiting an Indian Boarding School museum. I've read about the history and the maltreatment of the Native children in the United States, but nothing prepared me for his telling of walking through the museum, heart-heavy, and coming around a corner to find a display of a barber's chair. The display included fallen hair in braids on the floor, and he drew in a breath before he could tell us that this was his history. His story.

He was taken to a boarding school as a child, where his braid was cut off. He described the violence of the adults, holding down the boys forcefully while their braids were shorn. He said that he had to leave the museum because it was so traumatic to remember.

Other Jicarilla people began remembering their time in the boarding schools here on the reservation. They told of being forced to wear a dunce cap for speaking Jicarilla. They told of the physical punishments given by their caretakers for "acting Jicarilla." The braids falling to the floor was a universal memory.

There is so much evil in the world, so much wrong in our collective histories, so much pain...

How do we cope with it all?

We cling.

To each other.
                       To God.
                                     To Psalm 23:

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul. He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name's sake. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

Did you hear that?

I will fear no evil, for you are with me. We can take our overwhelming feelings of despair to God; He never leaves us to deal with it alone. He is with us... Emmanuel...

My cup overflows. I have more good in my life than I can comprehend. My blessings are so many that my life overflows with them!

And I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever. These anguishes will be extinguished. I cling to God's promise that every tear will be wiped away. There will be no more death or sadness. All wrongs will be righted (Revelation 21:4).

Amen. So be it.

Beauty-Full

On my walk this morning, this beautiful sunrise began just as I left the house. I thought it was incredible! As I walked, I watched as the sun crept upward...

The pictures don't do justice to the beauty of the sky; it just kept getting more amazing! The rays of the sun were visible against the cloud cover; the colors ranged from pink to bright yellow-orange. It was breathtaking.

The thing that amazed me the most was the way I thought the sky was the most beautiful it could ever be, and then it became even more beautiful! I wish my iPhone camera could have captured the increasing glory of this sunrise...

And I am struck by the thought that my knowledge and experience of God is the same way: Every time I think I've reached the pinnacle of closeness to God, He reveals an even greater glory to me. And every time I have a period where God's love and grace are shrouded by the clouds of busy-ness, distractedness, or foolishness, He reveals to me His glory behind the clouds. He reaches out for me, calling me to restoration of relationship with Him.

When I am close to Him, I reflect His love and grace to those around me, like the western ridges reflect this morning's sunrise. I pray that God will continue to work in me (He promises he will in Philippians 1:6!) so that I may do His work here on earth.

And may we all stop and experience the glory of God which surrounds us always.

Open House

After church today, we had a Christmas open house at the parsonage for the congregation and various other friends we have met here in Dulce. We probably had 40ish people here enjoying sweets and fellowship.

After an hour and a half or so, most people had departed, although we had a friend of our daughter's watching a movie and playing. Then my husband's phone rang; it was another young couple, not from our church, who had been invited to stop by our open house.

I happily made up a small plate of treats and sweets, served some lemonade, and we all sat down and chatted for a while. We made up a plate of goodies for them to take home before they left. It is a tradition here to leave a gathering with a plate of food for later. (I like this tradition!) This is our second open house since we've arrived, and it was a lot of fun!

And as I reflect on our time here in New Mexico (all 4 months of it so far!), I relish the fact that our home is a part of the ministry of the Jicarilla Apache Reformed Church. We have extended a welcome to church members, to neighbors-passing-through, and to people we have met in the area... and that welcome is God's welcome. It is never burdensome to me. It is a joy to invite people to dinner, to Bible study, to open houses, to step in as they rent the church gym for an event. It is never a burden to offer a sandwich, a ride home, or a quiet prayer.

Sometimes people say things like, "Oh, what a blessing you are to these people!" or "You're giving so much!" But I don't feel that way at all. I love that God is working through us, but I am the recipient of the blessings, not the giver of them. And only God can work that way: That all parties feel blessed by the interaction. Nobody feels "used up" or "burned out."

Amazing blessings in God's house, God's family, God's place and time.

Down Time

Anchored 12x12

I have been in a busy season of my life for... well... a long time. If I look at just the past four months, I've been going non-stop. Moving. Settling in. Homeschooling. Setting up my glass studio. Fulfilling Christmas orders. Hosting open houses and friendly dinners. Laundry and cleaning and cooking... all those daily tasks. Did I mention homeschooling?

Going full-blast isn't a problem for me, most of the time. What challenges me is down time. Today is one of those days. The house is clean. The laundry is minimal. All of the possible preparations for our open house on December 22 are complete. I have all the Christmas orders fulfilled, so there's no glass to do.

Six Crows

I am (shh...don't tell anyone!) caught up! 

And I am at a loss for what to do.

I've been busy keeping up for so long, I've forgotten what to do when I'm caught up!

I am Martha-without-a-list-of-jobs-to-do. What do you think Martha did when she was all caught up? I'm guessing she looked for more tasks to put on her list. That's my first response too.

But I really want to be Mary. I want to sit at the foot of Jesus and soak in His wisdom, His grace, His love. I want to celebrate that I have a little time to study my Bible, read devotions, and pray.

Son Rise

But my first instinct is to clean and polish the wood floor. So very Martha. And while the floor is drying, I'm blogging, not reading, studying, and praying. I'm talking with my husband about our upcoming schedules. I'm finding little tasks to fill the time.

If I truly want to be Mary, I should...




(good-bye!)

Parched

 This place is beautiful, beyond any doubt. It is a lovely land of mesas, mountains, rock formations, and sky. It is a gorgeous place to live and serve God.

When we moved here, we knew we would have to adjust to the altitude. In Minnesota, we were at just about 1000 ft above sea level. Here we are at about 6800 ft above sea level. For a while, we all had headaches and fatigue. We still get symptoms occasionally, but for the most part, we have adjusted to the altitude.

The thing I didn't expect was the difference in humidity. Oh sure, I'd heard, "It's a dry heat" and similar statements. I knew that it was drier when we visited in April, but I had no idea how much drier it was.

I am parched. When I wake up in the morning. When I exercise. When I forget to drink my three 12 ounce glasses of water in the morning, or my four glasses in the afternoon. Sometimes, I find myself realizing how thirsty I am just before bedtime. I drink and drink and drink. And then I sleep the night through. Dehydrated? Definitely.

We recently visited a doctor for the first time since we moved. In the course of conversation, I mentioned that I feel like I'm drinking constantly. He advised us that in this beautiful place, even though it has rivers and lakes, the air is extremely dry. We should be drinking about twice as much as I've been drinking!

I've been parched spiritually before, too. In those places where (maybe) things looked "beautiful," but were dry, dry, dry...

And how do I cope with such times? By drinking the living water (John 4:13-14). And when I still feel parched? Where should I turn? Back to the living water again. And again.

And again.

Jesus says that the water He gives "will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life." He will sustain us and strengthen us to cope with today's trials. Each day, He will give us what we need to follow Him.

When we're parched, we need to turn to Jesus and drink of His life-giving water. Again and again and again.

Apache Dress

These Apache girls are in their full regalia.

"She needs an Apache dress," my friend said as she leaned over toward me. We were watching my daughter and her granddaughter (best friends!) dance at the Christmas powwow. And she was talking about my daughter. My mixed-race daughter with her wiry African-American hair.

Men's powwow regalia

My almost-7-year-old daughter loves to dance. She was delighted to be dancing with the Apache people, even though she was ignorant of many of the niceties of the dances. I had even gotten up and danced one dance. "Don't bounce so hard," was the advice I received during that attempt!

I was really happy that my daughter was invited to dance; I hadn't been sure if a non-Apache could join in. I certainly didn't anticipate the level of acceptance in that simple statement, "She needs an Apache dress."

Did I mention that I love this place? These people?

I do.

Traditional Apache Dress

"She needs an Apache dress," I was told again by the woman in our congregation sitting in the back row at the powwow. I had made my way back to say hello to her and her son, also a member of the congregation.

"Really?" I said. "That would be okay?"

"Yes!" she said. "The ladies of Sew-n-Sew would make her one. She needs one so she can dance."

Wow! What an affirmation that we are becoming part of the community here. We are so blessed.

My daughter and I had to leave the powwow before it was over, but when we returned from an overnight trip (missing church), my husband (who was unaware of the coversations above) said to me, "By the way, C (congregant) said that K (daughter) needs an Apache dress. She said she saw K dancing at the powwow, but she needed an Apache dress. C said for us not to worry about it, though."

Not to worry about it? I was figuring at the least, I would need to go buy fabric for the Sew-n-Sew ladies. But my husband said not to do anything, that C told him it would be taken care of.

God has blessed us so very much in this place. These people. They bless us every day, bringing us desserts at the back door of the parsonage. Introducing us to their families and friends. Inviting us to be with their families for Thanksgiving. Asking our daughter to dance.

Blessed indeed.