tornado warning

It's been a stormy spring in North Texas. We have been inundated with thunderstorms and tornado warnings. Fortunately, the worst of the weather missed us this year. After a lifetime of storm warnings, I find that I am no longer easily scared. Unless there has been a tornado spotted within a short distance of my home, I continue life as usual.

This week as the tornado sirens went off and I continued calmly baking pies (after checking the radar and seeing that we were not in immediate danger), I wished that my faith in times of spiritual storms was that calm. When storms hit in life, I struggle so much with doubt and discouragement. I look forward to a day when my faith grows to the point that I am able to calmly and peacefully continue life no matter what kind of difficulties rage around me.

Don't Burn the Meringue

I have a long standing history of cooking disasters. Since the onset of severe migraines a few years ago, I have lost my ability to multi task. When cooking, this tends to lead to minor mishaps. A while back, I was baking a coconut cream pie for Shawn. This is his favorite pie, and can be used as a bribe to get me out of trouble and back into his good standing if necessary.

After I put the pie into the oven to brown the meringue, I heard a nifty little tune playing in my mind. I sat down at the piano and all was lost. After several minutes I smelled delicious roasting marshmallows. I wondered which neighbors were having a cookout and thought about how much fun that would be with our kids. As the smell of roasting marshmallows grew stronger, I finally remembered my pies and ran to the oven. It would seem that meringue is quite flammable.

Since this was not an isolated instance, this Easter, I was determined to not catch my pies on fire. While the meringue was browning, I sat on a stool with my face pressed against the glass window. As soon as the meringue began to brown, I cracked the oven door to watch more closely. As I sat with my face stinging from the heat of the oven, I thought of a parallel between burning meringue and sin.

Proverbs 4:23 says, 

"Guard your heart above all else, for it determines the course of your life." As I thought about how carefully I was guarding against burning the meringue I thought about the need to guard my heart. I frequently find myself deep in sin without realizing that I have even stumbled off the right path. It's kind of like when I get distracted while cooking and next thing I know I have a small fire on top of my pie. I realized as I sat watching my pie that I need to work harder at being alert to temptation and seek to avoid that first step down the wrong path. Being vigilant is important in growing spiritually.
Proverbs 4:27 says, "Don’t get sidetracked; keep your feet from following evil." I have great intentions about loving God more and seeking after him, but next thing I know I'm sidetracked again by my busy life. And when I lose my focus on God, then next thing I know I end up thinking, speaking, and acting in ways that are not glorifying to God.

So the moral from this? Don't Burn the Meringue! Stay focused on who is important and be vigilant in guarding your heart against evil.

Second Best

Cold weather is finally creeping into Texas. The grass was wet with a light frost Saturday morning, and my breath froze in a delicate fog. The fire crackled comfortingly in the fireplace for the first time this weekend. As the cold weather hits, I am reminded to be grateful for God's provision for my family. Tonight as I snuggle under my well worn comforter, in my toasty warm house, I am well aware that I am privileged to enjoy such luxuries.

This morning the chilly air sent me searching for a coat to wear to church. I reached into my closet and pulled out a dark red wool coat. This coat has hung in my closet for the last 18 years. 18 years ago, it was a beauty. I bought it at Dillards, and wore it with pride for many years. Today it is down to a single button, the lining is tattered, and the pockets torn. Though no longer very fashionable, it works great at blocking a cold wind.

This summer I heard of a family who lost everything in a fire. As I collected clothes from my closet to share with the family, I reached for the red coat. I knew that it wasn't anything special, but it would work if you didn't have anything better. I took the coat from the hanger, only to hear the Holy Spirit speak to my heart, "When are you going to stop giving me your second best?" I was not excited about this particular urging. Giving away things one no longer wants is painless. But the Bible teaches that God receives sacrificial worship. I placed the red wool coat back into my closet and pulled out my nice, black, favorite leather coat and added it to the pile.

I do not tell this story to receive glory for myself. I tell the story to illustrate that God wants our very best. In my case, he wanted me to be willing to "get by" with the red coat and give away my favorite coat to someone with great need who would probably have been thankful to just "get by". For me, this was a mile marker event in my Christian faith. I have since begun to realize that my idea of sacrifice for Christ is embarrassingly tiny compared to the type of giving spirit demonstrated in scripture.

This winter every time I wear my old red coat, I want God to remind me about how he sent his very best for me.... Jesus. I want to remember that God is never selfish, and definitely never gives me anything that is second rate. I want to learn what it really means to live as a child of God. What does it really look like to live as though everything I own is simply on loan from God? What does it look like to simply be the steward, not the owner, of all that I have?

I have so far to go in this area of giving God my best. I tend to give God my left overs. He gets whatever time is left over at the end of my day, whatever energy I have left, whatever ministry I can squeeze in around my own personal schedule. I say this not with guilt, but with excitement. I am excited about how God is going to work in my life in this area. I am excited to see how God might use me for the kingdom if I become a little less selfish and a little less attached to my stuff and a little more free about giving to others.

I am silly, giddily excited that I kept the red coat for myself. In hindsight, it seems that giving away my best gave me the best blessing. So this winter as I wear my ancient red coat, I am looking forward to seeing how God is going to change my heart!

I

Morning Dawns

Saturday morning, I laced up the sneakers and slipped out the door for an early morning run. As the first pink fingers of light touched the clouds, Paul Baloche's, "Your Name," played on the ipod. The opening line of the song is, "As morning dawns and evening fades, you inspire songs of praise." It was such a fitting moment that I stopped still in my tracks in awe. I watched the pink spread all across the sky and the evening roll away. I saw in that moment a reminder of how God works in life.

We have recently experienced rough times in our family, as well as our church family. We have had friends lose a baby, have another church member's teen son diagnosed with cancer, others confronted with debilitating illnesses, financial distress, and failed marriages. It has been an extremely dark time in our life and in our church family's life. Not that we are distant from God's presence, but we have suffered great amounts of crisis and pain.

I was reminded Saturday morning that MORNING DAWNS and EVENING FADES. Light comes, and darkness dissipates. I cannot allow discouragement to hold onto our lives. We must all press forward in the firm expectation that morning is on its way.

I thought about the story in the Bible about how the women with the hemorrhage pushed through the crowd, desperate for an opportunity to touch Jesus' garment. She did not give up until she was successful. I felt a very real sense of urgency to be that woman. Pursue God's presence with desperation and urgency. Do not be dissuaded from seeking his presence!

As I watched that sunrise, frozen in time and space, I saw the beauty of the light against the darkness. Without darkness, there is no beauty of a sunrise. It is in that first glorious moment of the light breaking the darkness with stunningly gorgeous color that is most amazing. If life was eternally sunny, we would not have the opportunity to fully recognize the beauty of the light. I am not saying that God delights in sending us difficulty, but I am saying that as we experience the difficulty that is a part of the normal human existence, it affords us the opportunity to more fully appreciate the beauty of God's love, mercy, and peace.

Ode to the metronome

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Fast. Slow. Steady beat. Such was the voice of my metronome. It was ancient when it first came into my possession, belonging first to my older brother, and if memory serves me correctly, my grandmother before him.

It was not the modern metronome - a slick black box with a tiny battery that makes it click. Instead it was a wooden triangular box with a wind-up key on the side. If you wound the key nine times, the metronome had enough power to last for over an hour of practice.

When I left home, I didn't bring a lot of my childhood things along, but I did pack the metronome. As we have moved many times, I have kept my metronome. When we stored stuff when our house went on the market, I left the metronome in a kitchen cabinet where I could see it daily.

Maybe that seems like a strange item to keep, but my metronome and I have been through much together. Rhythm is not my strongest gift. Many times over the years, I became extraordinarily frustrated by complicated measures of music. I have yelled at, hit, and thrown my metronome. Then I would retrieve it, reset it, and try again. It has been many years since I last needed to know the exact difference between 64 and 72 beats a minutes, however I still open the cabinet to look at that metronome frequently.

My old metronome is a strong reminder of persistence. Even though rhythm doesn't come naturally for me, any song can be mastered with enough hard work and discipline. My metronome is a reminder of where I have been. When I see the old beat-up case, I remember the hours of frustration over music that is now simple. I remember the hours of time I invested in something that I have grown to love. I am reminded that I am human as I examine the dents in the case from the angry outbursts as a teen.

Tonight, I opened the metronome one last time for my kids to use for band practice. Their fancy slick little black box needed new batteries, so they were willing to use my antique. Unfortunately, my metronome has starting counting off beat - like me. 1...2...........3..4...........1......2..3.4......1.2.3.........4........

Instead of throwing it away, I gently replaced the cover and set it back on the shelf. I decided that I needed it, even if it wasn't able to help me count anymore. I need the reminder that anything is possible if you have the persistence to daily refuse to accept failure. While my metronome may be a little off beat, it is still dead on with its life lessons.

The Cussing Class

Years ago, the first time I heard a student use a cuss word, I immediately freaked out and sent him to the principal. Now I rarely even flinch. Unfortunately with the uncensored viewing habits of small children, many of my first graders can, and do, use very inappropriate language at times. I was thinking about a couple of recent instances that I thought I might share, and then share a lesson behind them.

This past spring, during the moment of silence, a little boy would not stop talking. It was annoying his neighbor, who leaned in to whisper to him to be quiet. I appreciated the intervention, as I was tied up with another student in mid crisis. I could not hear the exact words that were used, but assumed they were well meant. In an instant, the talkative little boy's hand shot into the air. I said, "Yes, sir?" He said, "Mrs. Kemp, he just said 'shut up mother f***er.'" To which I replied, "Get in the hall, right now." As I was dealing with the incident, the talkative little boy said, "Mrs. Kemp, I knew you'd want to know right away because shut up is a REALLY bad word."

I had to not laugh until both boys were back in the classroom, and I had closed the door to be alone in the hall.

A very similar instance occurred yesterday. One of my ESL little girls was sitting at the reading table with several other students. She is struggling with English, so I had a hard time getting the whole story. Apparently some guy came to visit their house and was quite rude. She said, "Mrs. Kemp, my mom say I ask you bout mean boy. He point this finger at mom (middle one) and say 'stupid f***ing bitch'" My mom not know what that is and say ask you, but I tell her not nice, stupid very bad word."

These are just a couple of many, many times I have heard children concerned about words like "stupid, shut up, fart, butt, and crap" more than genuinely horrible cuss words. I was thinking about this today and saw a lesson there for me. I often get caught up in trying to fix small, inconsequential things (like shut up and stupid), when there are really big things in my life that need to be changed.

We often emphasize our small flaws so that attention isn't drawn to the real stuff that we need to deal with. We point the finger at other people's small annoying behaviors, when huge darkness is in our own heart. I hope the next time I try to point out somebody else's sin, or even sugar coat my own sin, that God reminds that it's like I'm freaking out about saying "shut up" when the big bad stuff is in my heart.