Two photo-documented surprise parties—one an entire month before my actual birth date—did away with any ideas I might have entertained about ignoring my 60^th birthday. Truth be told, I’d never had a birthday number that bothered me, but I was feeling a little iffy about 60.

 

God is always good though; and sometimes uses plain language to remind me. So I wasn’t surprised last night when the tightly folded little paper I drew out of my personalized Scriptures jar said:

 

All the days of your life, Jan,

 

are written in My special book.

Psalm 139:16

 

“All” means every single one. So, it must be time to own that particular fear and walk straight away into it.

 

At my second surprise birthday party, Faith Cora gave me a bright shiny red and silver dangly “60” necklace. She’d picked it out all by herself; and beamed with pride when she handed it to me yesterday and told me to wear it.

 

I decided this morning that it was probably the perfect necklace to compliment my Sunday morning ensemble; and the grin on her face, when she saw it, confirmed that I’d made the right choice.

 

She chose our after-church lunch destination and rode with me there. I asked her if she’d like to wear my necklace into the restaurant; and she said, “No, Mama Jan. I really like it, but it’s your necklace to wear”.

 

And so it is.

 

Orange has joined the meadow—the happy text I sent to Jessie, my daughter-in-law, a few early mornings ago.

 

I’ve been flat out amazed at the sheer joy I feel every time a new color, or variety of flower, appears in Flutter-butter’s Wildflower Surprise Garden. The name’s a mouthful, to be sure; but Faith Cora’s hands helped sow it, so her imagination got to name it.

 

She spotted a new colored cornflower in the meadow’s middle yesterday and we waded our way through tall red clover to see it up close. So far, the cornflowers have appeared dressed in shades of vivid periwinkle, pale lilac, white, vibrant pink, pastel pink, and the newest—red grape-Aggie maroon. It amazes me that each flower displays slight varying shades plus some have different colored centers. We watch the unopened buds closely because it’s anybody’s guess as to what color they’re going to be.

 

My spirit soars in praise when God offers me such daily blessings; and I talk to Him—sometimes to the flowers too—when I walk through their wildly jumbled profusion.

 

 

Holy, holy, holy…Lord God Almighty

 

Early in the morning my praise shall rise to thee.

 

 

And today’s early morning, latte-time, Word bouquet:

 

 

“Look at the lilies and how they grow.

 

They don’t work or make their clothing,

 

yet Solomon in all his glory

 

was not dressed as beautifully as they are.

 

And if God cares so wonderfully for flowers

 

that are here today and thrown into the fire tomorrow,

 

he will certainly care for you…

  

Luke 12:17-18

 

Several years ago I spent a week in Cabo san Lucas with my brother, Joe, and sister-in-law, Julie’s, family. It was the July after Dan had been killed in October; and grief was constant and heavy within me. I had no fear of death for myself and, truth be told, would have welcomed it as a relief from the unrelenting pain. I’d done years of professional grief counseling—as the counselor—but never as the griever; and there’s an indescribably far distance between the two.

 

Cabo’s located on the very tippy toe end of Mexico’s Baja Peninsula where dark blue Pacific waves crash to literally shake the sandy beach. Our trip coincided with the tail end of a major storm system so the wave swells were huge. We sailed, sans life jackets, in a rickety little boat completely around the furthest rocky promontory tip; but turned back when the Mexican Coast Guard’s boat followed us and bullhorn-blasted at our little boat’s captain to turn the boat around. All my pictures from that part of the trip are wave-swelled crooked.

 

No level horizons—inside or out.

 

Julie talked Joe (he, good-naturedly, said for absolutely the last time) into visiting a time-share presentation at one of the many gorgeous resorts along the coast. One of the rewards for their attending was a zip line adventure for Julie, Kinsey and me.

 

The first night we’d arrived had brought a torrential rainstorm with flooding down the dirt hills surrounding our hotel anchored only yards above the water. The pounding rainstorm and crashing surf made wonderfully soothing background sleeping noise.

 

The rain also caused some rerouting of our zip line canyon course because, or so we heard, some of the tall support poles had slipped out of place. Evidently the course finale was to traverse a criss-crossed wire platform, fall off backwards, and then rappel down the high cliff side; but instead of ending the course, it was our introduction.

 

I’d never rappelled before; but, if you have no fear of death, it’s a piece of cake. When I finally reached cliff bottom, the belayer holding my rope, high-fived me and asked how many times I’d done it before.

 

The course was likely designed for adrenaline junkies and I loved it; because I could actually feel something other than grief. It was a beautiful blistery-hot day and we had to walk some distances between some of the connections. A couple of the stopping spots had ice water available for drinking and drenching self; the extremes were exhilarating.

 

The very last zip-over covered a wide-stretching deep canyon containing a streambed, small cabin and some people on horseback. I don’t know how the operator of the sending platform was supposed to time the send-off of each rider—and very possibly he didn’t know either—because he sent me too soon after the man in front of me. When I arrived, the receiving operator was supposed to grab my feet and secure me. However, he was frantically unhooking the man ahead of me and couldn’t grab me too. So I began sliding backwards down the line and out over the canyon; the further I slid away, the more my weight pulled down the cable line.

 

Absolutely nothing I could do to help myself—so I waited.

 

The receiver finally unharnessed the man ahead of me, quickly buckled himself into gear; then crab-crawled, hand and feet over wire, out to rescue me. When he reached me, he wrapped his legs around mine and began pulling both of us back to the platform behind him.

 

I asked if I could help, but he totally ignored my words; and focused instead on getting us both to safety. Then the sender operator sent my sister-in-law, Julie, too soon right behind me and she had to be rescued; but that’s another story. All in all, it was a very good day.

 

The memory rushed to mind yesterday morning when I read April 18^th’s entry in “Streams in the Desert”:

 

“I once believed that after I prayed, it was my responsibility to do everything in my power to bring about the answer.”

 

“We all know how difficult it is to rescue a drowning person who tries to help his rescuer, and it is equally difficult for the Lord to fight our battles for us when we insist upon trying to fight them ourselves…for our interference hinders His work.”

 

“He simply wanted me to wait in an attitude of praise and do only what He told me.”

 

 

 

Be still in the presence of the Lord,

 

and wait patiently for him to act.

 

Psalm 37:7

 

 

Amen.

 

 

Waiting in the grocery store checkout line, I entertained myself by skimming over a pictorial history of Kate Middleton’s dresses in “People” magazine. While Ms. Middleton’s a lovely young woman with beautiful clothes; there’s hardly a way to describe my activity and make it sound worthwhile. Bottom line for my spent line-waiting time = wasted.

 

A young store employee interrupted my dress review and told me that he could check out my groceries in a different line. He then said that he knew I didn’t want to waste my time waiting (perhaps he’d noticed what I was reading); and that he’d read a study that reported the average American, by age 60, has spent two years waiting in lines.

 

I responded with something like you’d better be thinking positive things, instead of grumbling, while standing in line or you’ll have put a lot of negative into your life while you wait.

 

Then I left the store mulling over what he’d said—two years sure is a lot of time; and I can honestly say I don’t remember a single one of those dresses. I have, however, been thinking about better ways to use my time in the checkout line; and this came to mind:

 

 

Never stop praying.

 

1 Thessalonians 5:17

 

 

Not a complicated directive; more like straight forward non-ambiguous. So. That’s my goal—use line-waiting time as a trigger to prompt me to talk to the Lord.

 

I remember when “The Hiding Place” was released—a movie about Corrie ten Boom’s punishment in a Nazi concentration camp for harboring over 800 Jews during WW11. It amazed me how the horrors she lived through, and the miracles she saw, strengthened her faith in the goodness of God. I love her experientially pragmatic and ever-so-wise words on prayer:

 

Don’t pray when you feel like it.

Have an appointment with the Lord and keep it.

A man is powerful on his knees.

 

And so, I would add—is a woman standing in prayer in a grocery store checkout line.

 

 

 

I love watching reunion videos with military mamas, daddies, spouses and even adult children—showing up at unexpected times and surprising the daylights out of the people who love them most.

 

Makes me wonder about the morning Dan ended up in heaven—in the presence of The One who has always loved him best. I do imagine Dan was surprised—not at his final destination, to be sure—but by the timing; a totally unexpected departure and arrival time in our schedules—but not the Father’s.

 

Life still surprises me, but I’m ever so grateful that it never surprises God.

 

I paused for a long minute the day I saw a photo of a sculpture depicting an elderly woman stepping from this life into the next. Walking cane-balanced with arthritic hand outreached to the curtain—then bursting through to the other side; totally transformed—young strong arms stretched forward, no cane in sight, and feet racing to Jesus.

 

Reminds me of Mercy Me’s song “I Can Only Imagine”

 

…Surrounded by your glory

What will my heart feel

Will I dance for you Jesus

Or in awe of you be still

Will I stand in your presence

Or to my knees will I fall

Will I sing hallelujah

Will I be able to speak at all

I can only imagine

I can only imagine…

“However,

 

no one knows the day or hour

 

when these things will happen,

 

not even the angels in heaven

 

or the Son himself.

 

Only the Father knows.

Matthew 24:36

 

“Therefore keep watch,

 

because you do not know the day or the hour.

Matthew 25:13

 

 

 

(“Come Unto Me” by Jerry Anderson. Bronze sculpture in the Spilsbury Mortuary in St. George, UT)

 

Back in November, Faith Cora and I sowed a small meadow with 12 lbs of Texas wildflower seeds; and then—every time Lowe’s discounted the distinctive blue packages spangled with riots of color—we sowed some more. I lost count, but think we sowed in the neighborhood of 75 lbs.

 

I was ecstatic a few weeks ago when the very first periwinkle blue-shaded bloom appeared; and immediately sent Faith Cora a picture and text message via her mommy’s phone. Now, every time she visits, we explore the meadow she has named Flutter-butter’s Wildflower Surprise Garden. We find new treasures almost every single time—and the best secret to our finding is our hunting.

 

Flutter-butter’s a character in one of the story lines for a book she and I are writing; and Aunt Jessie is our illustrator. Flutter-butter has many adventures with Mr. Ladybug, a little orange-brother-butterfly named Chair Leaf, some awfully naughty baby crows, and Salt & Pepper—the squirrels who race along the fence through the honeysuckle vines. They live in the Woods of Many Colors across the river from Mr. Somebody’s Very Quiet Forest.

 

Faith Cora is quick to insert her ideas and re-direct me in the story plots and lines as I tell them. Sometimes she ends up with a starring role in the adventure; and when she bursts into giggles at particular parts, I know we’ve hit upon a treasure.

 

I’m so grateful that abundant life is permeated with treasures; and I smile to know that God, my Father, knows all about that. Over 2000 years ago, his Son sent me a key to keeping my treasures safe for all eternity:

 

 

 

“Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth,

 

where moth and rust destroy

 

and where thieves break in and steal,

 

but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven,

 

where neither moth nor rust destroys

 

and where thieves do not break in and steal.

 

For where your treasure is,

 

there your heart will be also.

 

Matthew 6:19-21

 

Because…

 

 

“No eye has seen,

 

no ear has heard,

 

and no mind has imagined

 

what God has prepared for those who love him.”

 

1 Corinthians 2:9

 

 

 

I’ve been pondering. Have I already survived the worst I’ll ever have to face; and/or, is it possible to choose to live as if the worst is now in the past?

 

This is a fallen world; no doubt about it. Bad things have happened, are happening, and will continue to happen.

 

Someone told me last week that the hardest thing she learned, following her first husband’s early death in a freak-accident, was that it didn’t make her immune from other bad things happening.

 

If there’s an upside to being blindsided, it has been experiencing firsthand that, while grief is undeniably awful; God is always with me and always takes care of me. Always.

 

Sometimes bad things happen as a result of my bad choices, but sometimes they don’t. And then sometimes, bad things happen even when I’ve made good choices. Those times are harder to sort through.

 

As evening came, Jesus said to his disciples,

 

“Let’s cross to the other side of the lake.”  

 

So they took Jesus in the boat and started out,

 

leaving the crowds behind

 

(although other boats followed).

 

But soon a fierce storm came up.

 

High waves were breaking into the boat,

 

and it began to fill with water.

 

Jesus was sleeping at the back of the boat

 

with his head on a cushion.

 

The disciples woke him up, shouting,

 

“Teacher, don’t you care that we’re going to drown?”

 

When Jesus woke up,

 

he rebuked the wind and said to the waves,

 

“Silence! Be still!”

 

Suddenly the wind stopped,

 

and there was a great calm.

 

Then he asked them,

 

“Why are you afraid?

 

Do you still have no faith?”

Mark 4:35-40

 

If the fierce storm had roared in to punish them for some defiant disobedience, it would seem fairer; but they were right where they were supposed to be and doing exactly what Jesus had told them to do.

 

Jesus response: “Do you still have no faith” makes me think he’s comparing two different times: life before they knew him and life after. He was God immortal in their midst—doing miracles right and left—a defining pivotal point in their lives. He. Was. The. Point.  And the worst they could ever face—the life when they didn’t know him—was behind them.

 

Praise be to God, I know the very same Jesus.

 

 

I have told you all this

 

so that you may have peace in me.

 

Here on earth you will have many trials and sorrows.

 

But take heart,

 

because I have overcome the world.”

John 16:33

 

I hear God better in the early morning hours so I usually get up whenever I awaken. The other morning found me in the kitchen at 4:30—early even by my own standards—brewing a latte. It feeds my spirit and soul to hold the warmth of the coffee and breathe in the word of God before anything else from the coming day distracts me.

 

Criss-cross is one of my favorite concepts; and God uses it like a yellow highlighter showing me important stuff. By 6:30 that particular morning, I’d completed a number of things: read my Bible; wrote notes to God; emailed, blogged and posted my daily Scripture on the Go; scanned through my Facebook feed and read a devotional; read an email devotional; and read the prior day’s entry in “Streams in the Desert”.

 

The first criss of the morning told me that Jeremiah 29:11 doesn’t mean what most people think: that suffering will soon end and then be replaced by flourishing. Instead, it told me that the heart of the verse isn’t about escaping my situation, but rather about learning to thrive in the middle of it.

 

Just to know—there’s no way to suspect anything’s going to be highlighted until you receive the second criss—and it crosses with the first—and forms the criss-cross.

 

That particular morning had a second criss; and it said that God has a purpose for all the seasons of my life—the lonely ones, the sad ones, the successful ones, the waiting ones and the grieving one. It told me that he’s working for my good in all those times; and then it said a hard, but very good immovable thing—that nothing comes into my life that hasn’t been filtered through him first. He’s never been surprised—so don’t even ever think you’ve done anything bad enough to accomplish that.

 

It’s uncommon for me to receive a third criss—which practically forms an asterisk—and particularly uncommon before 6:30 am, but I did.

 

This one said that I’m to honor the Lord in the trial; and then said the really hard part: that I’m to believe that God will raise something out of the fire that’s more worthy of praise than had I never experienced it.

 

To be perfectly honest, there’ve been things in my life that I never would have chosen—regardless, I suppose, of the growth and maturity that have come from them. But that’s different from being angry with God for what has come; and it’s possible to be triumphant in what I’ve not chosen.

 

The Lord had my attention—three crisses before 6:30 am will accomplish that; but later that same morning I actually started laughing and talking aloud to myself when he sent a fourth one at 11:00 am. (I looked at the clock to note the time)

 

I was driving alone in my car, and listening to an audio sermon, when I heard words saying God’s character always forms a knowing and loving wall around me; and nothing can reach me—nothing can get through that wisdom or love that he hasn’t first filtered through his omniscience.

 

And the asterisk just exploded into a star.

 

For I know the plans I have for you,”

 

says the LORD.

 

“They are plans for good and not for disaster,

 

to give you a future and a hope.

Jeremiah 29:11

 

And we know that God

 

causes everything to work together

 

for the good of those who love God

 

and are called according to his purpose for them.

Romans 8:28

(plain old brown leaf floating down a muddy stream,

BUT it caught the light just right)

 

Yesterday my cousins brought their mom, my soon-to-be 90-yr-old Aunt Doris, from out of town to visit. Seventeen of us met for a hugs and laughter-filled buffet lunch; and some followed up later at my house for sweet potato pie—a definite Collier-cousin favorite.

 

Doris and I waited alone for a few minutes, with my new grandson, while everyone else filled up plates at the buffet. She startled and delighted me when she grinned and announced across the table, “I’m about to turn 90—so now I’m ready to die”! There was absolutely nothing morbid or worrisome in her words—just a joyful anticipation of the next great adventure. I grinned right back, but didn’t speak my thoughts: “I get it! I so totally get it!”

 

My professional mental health background nearly always stops me from saying, “I know exactly what you mean”, but it can’t stop me from thinking it.

 

Our heavenly-bent conversation continued when more of our group returned to the table with their food. Instead of a 90^th birthday party, Doris has always wanted to stay overnight at a bed and breakfast. So her daughters, Patsy and Sharon, have made special reservations for later this month; but evidently what Doris told me isn’t a secret. Because Patsy said that Sharon told their mom that they’d gone to a lot of trouble setting up this bed and breakfast thing, so please don’t die before April 25^th. If she feels she needs to go after her birthday—well okay, but please don’t leave till then.

 

And we laughed and laughed.

 

Later that day I told my daughter about the lunch conversation we’d had at our end of the long table. April, mom of two small children, somberly said that she hopes—when she’s old and has lived out her life—she’ll feel the same way.

 

I didn’t speak my thoughts: “You will, Sissy—someday you’ll get that completely”.

 

Years ago when I was a young woman, Dan’s mom told me that she was homesick for heaven; and I didn’t get it. Then one day, somewhere along the years of my own life, I got it. It’s not hard to understand a strong desire for heaven.

 

But till then, as Paul said, we have work to do here:

 

 

I trust that my life will bring honor to Christ,

 

whether I live or die.

 

For to me, living means living for Christ,

 

and dying is even better.

 

But if I live,

 

I can do more fruitful work for Christ.

 

So I really don’t know which is better.

 

I’m torn between two desires:

 

I long to go and be with Christ,

 

which would be far better for me.

 

But for your sakes,

 

it is better that I continue to live.

Philippians 1: 20-23

 

It makes me shiver when I hear of a church leader choosing to leave family, church and ministry in one fell swoop. Sin is such an indiscriminate destroyer; and I have no slinging stones in-hand because there isn’t a sin, big or bad enough—murder, lying, adultery, pride (for a more comprehensive listing, please see the Bible) that exempts any of us from the truth that, “there, but for the grace of God, go I…”

 

 

For everyone has sinned;

 

we all fall short of God’s glorious standard.

 

Romans 3:23

 

 

Sometimes we speculate and wonder what outcomes and consequences might follow a particular choice—but other times, there’s no need to guess; because it’s spelled out in plain old English.

 

 

Dear brothers and sisters,

 

not many of you should become teachers in the church,

 

for we who teach will be judged more strictly.

 

James 3:1

 

 

“Judged more strictly”. Succinct. Non-ambiguous words. James didn’t even wrap them up in a parable that could be interpreted on various levels. He just laid them out there stark naked-like: “judged more strictly”.

 

Makes me shiver.

 

(Hubble telescope picture)