1 Corinthians 15:55

Hi everyone.  I'm still around.  I've been busy, but from time to time I think about blogging.  Every once in awhile, I think a thought and it strikes me that it might be fun to blog about it.  Blogging is good for exploring an idea or two.  Either I haven't been very adventurous lately or my thoughts haven't been that interesting enough to keep me seated in front of my computer for a couple of hours.  Maybe both.  Ambivalence kills blogging.  And I'm turning 50 pretty soon.  I'm too old to be ambivilent--that's the luxury of the young and inexperienced.  Age and experience helps us find some certainty.  Just a little. 

Lately, I've been thinking about death.  About the loss of Mabel and Rawle, as well as friends who have lost loved ones.  It all came together in the last few weeks.  I know I'm getting older now, when death becomes a common event in my family circle and social network.  Or at least, some close calls. 

After some sadness for the last month, because I care about the families involved, I had a moment of peace while talking to God.  He reminded me that I didn't chose to come into this world, and I have little control how I would be leaving it.  And every moment in between, is a gift.  It felt like a shroud lifted from my heart and soul.  I felt alive.  I felt real. 

Most of the time, I'm thinking about the next thing.  How to get up and get ready for work.  Which way to go home.  Who to call and meet.  When and where to pray.  What I need to read by tonight. What I need to memorize this week.  How I am going to rest in the afternoon and stay off my feet until the heel heals.  What to eat, wear, cook and clean. Who is coming over. Food shopping.  What's going on in the world, what's going on next door.  How I am going to get my husband to get more fiber in his diet.  That he eat everything but the apple I put in our sack dinners tonight before ESL.  And that I found adult chewable fish oil pills at Target.  How did gasoline get so expensive so fast?  If I put on the AC in the car, does it affect the gas mileage? What about rolling down the window?  How is it that nearly all my undergrad international student friends are graduating this year?  They were just freshmen a minute ago!  Is this DVD worthwhile or a waste of time?  How movie reviews tell me very little about what I really need to know. Like, if I will be polluted by the ideas and images in that film.  Who is this young girl who keeps poking me on Facebook? And I need to paint the bathroom walls.

(No wonder I'm not blogging.)

So, the death of someone who I used to know (Mabel), or enjoyed frequently over the years as a regular customer (Rawle), or was the beloved wife of an old college friend (Monica) or was a close friend of a friend has a compounding affect on me since it was just a matter of days that I heard about their passing.  If all this had happened in the space of a few weeks or months, I would have been affected but not as much as this particular streak of news.  Because of it, I can't just tuck this reality away in between trips to Kroger's or the shifts I work at the store.  And the reality of this is, someday it will be my turn.  Anytime, anywhere. 

I'm thankful for the good news that it doesn't matter--that in Christ, I am safely kept in God's sweet lovingkindness and soveriegn goodness.  This has a focusing effect on me, to deeply love but also long for everyone to know this freedom in the Gospel.  The heartbreak isn't wasted on me.  The hope that springs from paying close attention to Scripture fills every breath I inhale. 

Are you ready, Thea?  I admit that I am not,  but I pray that I am getting ready. 

Where is my treasure?  It isn't in the trunk of my car, in my bank account, in the stockmarket, in my closet or in the basement.  It is eternal--like human souls and God's Word, it is a spiritual inheritance, and it is waiting for us in Him.  It is costly and precious--it was paid for by my Savior's blood. 

In the meantime, there is abundance.  I have feelings to feel, love to share, thoughts to think, words to say, connections to make, deeds to do and life to live.  Through this meager person, God could do something significant within and through her--nothing important as the world deems important, but what He is pleased by and displays His glory:  a smile, a hug, an encouraging word, an inside joke, a tear. 




Death, be not Proud (Holy Sonnet 10) 
               --John Donne


DEATH, be not proud, though some have called thee


Mighty and dreadfull, for, thou art not so,


For, those, whom thou think'st, thou dost overthrow,


Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill me.


From rest and sleepe, which but thy pictures bee, 5


Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow,


And soonest our best men with thee doe goe,


Rest of their bones, and soules deliverie.


Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men,


And dost with poyson, warre, and sicknesse dwell,


And poppy, or charmes can make us sleepe as well,


And better then thy stroake; why swell'st thou then;


One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally,


And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.








 

In John Bunyan's classic "The Pilgrim's Progress" Faithful and Talkative have a meaningful conversation while accompanying Christian on the way to the Heavenly Country.  Christian is well acquainted with Talkative, since they are from the same home town.  He informs Faithful that Talkative isn't what he seems--from far away he is handsome, but as "unpleasing as one gets closer", that he may seem able to have a theological discourse, but has "no religion in his heart or his home.  They are as empty of religion as the white of an egg is of flavor.  Religion is only on his tongue." 

Faithful is not convinced, even though Christian warns him that Talkative has a bad effect on people, either by causing them to stumble or by cheating on them.  Faithful finally believes Christian and wants to get rid of him, and Christian advises him that all he has to do is talk to him and tell him the truth.

Then Faithful called to Talkative, "How does the saving grace of God manifest itself, when it is in the heart of a man?"

"So we speak about the power of things? It's a very good question, and I'm happy to answer you.  First where the grace of God is in the heart, it causes a great outcry against sin.  Secondly--"

"Wait a moment," interrupted Faithful.  "I think it shows itself by inclining the soul to abhor its sin."

"Why, what's the difference between crying out against sin and abhorring sin?"

"Oh, a great deal:  A man may cry out because of a law against it, but he cannot abhor it unless he has a godly antipathy against it.  What was your second point?"

"Great knowledge of the gospel mysteries."

"That is also false.  Great knowledge may be obtained in the mysteries of the gospel and yet not work as grace in the soul.  Consequently, he would not be a child of God.  A man may know like an angel, and yet be no Christian; therefore your sign is not true.  Indeed, to know is a thing that pleases talkers and boasters; but to do is that which pleases God.  Not that the heart can be good without knowledge, for without that, the heart is nothing. There is therefore knowledge and knowledge--knowledge that rests in the bare speculation of things, and knowledge that is accompanied with the grace of faith and love--which puts a man upon doing even the will of God from the heart.  The first of these will serve the talker, but without the other, the true Christian is not content.  If a man 'can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge but has not love, he is nothing." countered Faithful.  "What is another point?" 

"None.  I see we shall not agree." 

 Faithful isn't through with Talkative yet.  Faithful accurately contrasts the difference between those who have grace working in their souls and those who merely observe it.  Those with grace at work in them are convicted of sin and the Savior and His holiness are revealed to him, and subject themselves in "faith and love to the power of the Word."  He goes on to eviscerate his acquiantence's lifestyle with the observation on how his life doesn't match his words, and how his words are actually foul lies.  His final point that Talkative is a shame to all followers outrages Talkative who in return accuses  Faithful to be a gossip and an "irritable, dismal man " who has no right to judge him and bids him a curt farewell. 

Christian returns to Faithful and reassures him that "I told you how it would happen.  Your words and his lusts could not agree.  He would rather leave your company than reform his life.  But he is gone.  Let him go," said Christian. "The loss is no one's but his own..."

Faithful hopes that Talkative will think about what he said to him, and maybe it would curtail his destructive activities in the future.  Christian appreciates Faithful's courage in being confrontive with Talkative. 

Faithful sang:

"How Talkative at first lifts up his plumes!
How bravely does he speak.  How he presumes
To overwhelm all minds near!  But as soon
As I did speak of heart, like waning moon
He shrivels to an ever smaller part:
And so do all, but those who know the heart."

While in college, someone older  used to call me "Thea-logical" because his impression of me was that I was always thinking about big theological issues.  Maybe he thought it was so cute that a girl would spend so much time "thinking deep thoughts" as he put it.  I didn't know whether to be flattered or to be annoyed that I wasn't taken seriously.  After awhile, I realized I didn't have to do neither.  I soon became concerned that my knowledge, such as it was at the time, was outpacing my obedience to God. 

Looking back, I had the impression that all I needed was more information, more truth and that would make me more holy.  So, I read a lot of books and got involved in a lot of bible study discussions.  Which is really a good thing.  But as Serena, my bible study leader for four years in college, pointed out, it's nothing without application to real life.  She didn't want us to be merely well educated in the Bible, she was trying to teach us to live for God in obedience to His Word. 

It wasn't until post college when I realized that my love for others was actually as thin as water.  I talked the talk, but when it came to really loving people when they were hard to love and partaking in true community and real fellowship,  I was blowing it big time.  God brought me down as I saw my selfishness, arrogance and self-righteousness for the first time.  Like Talkative, I could have walked away but I chose not to.  I had to face that I fell short--way short--in the things that pleased God the most.   Not long after that, worship was no longer a performance but a real expression of joy that God still loved me and still wanted me in His domain, as I knew I was the most unworthy citizen in His kingdom. 

As William Shell explains in "Come Follow Me" :

 "I will give God what he wants, regardless of whether he gives me what I want."  This is the biblical response to the fact that Jesus is Lord; it is the very heartbeat of discipleship and submission to his lordship.  Anything less than this is inconsistent and impoverished Christianity.

I wasn't expecting much at my last visit to the doctor's last Thursday--as a diabetic, I need to see her every 3 months.  And I have to have my blood drawn for tests on how my blood glucose is doing--the A1C primarily.  I've been a diabetic for five and a half years, and I've had my ups and downs with it. 

The last year and a half hasn't been a great year, but it was better than before when I was catching my blood sugar spiking to 342 on the meter 2 hours after a meal.  I would go for a half hour walk to see it drop to 160, a more normal range.  On top of that, I was having trouble getting my blood pressure to get below 140/90.  It wasn't too bad, but alarmingly, it wasn't getting better.

When I've been checking lately, the fasting bg (first thing in the morning) has been normal--120-135, and before bed, around 160-170.  I didn't notice any spikes.  But I still dreaded the last A1C lab result.  But it showed improvement--6.8, much better than 7.1 that I had last March.  I blamed it on Valentine's Day. 

The scale at the doctor's office showed a drop of nearly 10 pounds (actually, 7.5, but I went home and in my underwear on my home scale, it was 10, maybe that isn't totally accurate, but it makes me feel good).  And the nurse murmured that my blood pressure was 120/80.  I almost asked her if she was sure, maybe do it again.  I was shocked--my bp hasn't been that good for years. 

The doc and I talked about it for about a half hour.  She asked if I had made any changes.  I didn't know what to say, because I have worked harder than I have lately with no results to show for it. Reflecting about it later, I realized that Dennis and I had worked harder on controlling expenses overall which included less going out for meals and cutting back on the grocery bills.  I ate more apples and bananas,nuts, peanut butter and  included more fiber whenever I could, to the point I even got sick for awhile.  We ate simpler meals with less meat.  I passed up dessert at night, didn't feel the need.  If I ate a sweet, it was usually at work when I was on my feet all day and sure to work it off, but I brought fruit usually to head off the temptation.

I didn't expect any improvements, but since the changes were minor, I didn't feel like I deprived myself.  I even added 2 pumps of real carmel syrup instead of the sugar free kind to my grande latte a few times.  I drank a caramel macchiatto that was made by mistake last week--the first one I have had in five years.  It would have been tossed out, and it was just a small one, so I caved.  I had that caramel macchiato on my mind while I went to get my lab test done on Tuesday. 

The books on managing diabetes mention that you don't have to give up the occasional dessert or treat, but to work it into your plan and work around it--watch the total carb intake and exercise.  Of all the changes recently, the one that had to help the most was the less eating out.  But honestly, I didn't feel deprived.  I had been reading about how the food industry has totally manipulated America--we have no idea what we are eating.  Every meal has sugar, salt and fat amped up to incredible amounts to the point that it has destroyed the American palate.  We don't appreciate plain food anymore.  From my own experience, I can guess what has hurt me the most over the years. 

Heidelberg Moment

Question 28: What advantage is it to us to know that God has created, and by his providence does still uphold all things?

Answer: That we may be patient in adversity; thankful in prosperity; and that in all things, which may hereafter befall us, we place our firm trust in our faithful God and Father, that nothing shall separate us from his love; since all creatures are so in his hand, that without his will they cannot so much as move.

The Resistance

Dana the soon to be Tenth Grader

Dana wiped the sweat accumulating on her forehead and tied her bandana around her fluffy hair a little tighter.  She looked straight up the side of the cliff and wondered how she got herself talked into a bit of rock climbing tomorrow.   It was not a hard climb for a beginner like her, and she had practiced rappelling yesterday.  But she still felt apprehensive and nervous. 

Suddenly, an arm came around her neck and pulled her backwards, "Oh, I can't wait--this is going to be awesome!" screamed her best friend, Kellie.  They had taken Outdoor Ed together last spring, and now, in the summer before 10th grade, they were camping with Kellie's family in Colorado.

Kellie's dad finished a medical tour in the Army in Iraq, and had recently retired to begin a new practice of his own in a sleepy little community in dusty eastern Washington state.   He was the rock climbing instructor who was going to help Dana and Kellie learn the fundamentals.  He assured them that they could climb to what ever height they felt comfortable with, which made Dana less nervous.  Kellie, on the other hand, was already planning to climb Yosemite's Half Dome.  She had plastered pictures of it on her bedroom walls. 

"Ahh, you dork, I want to live long enough to get to 10th grade this year!"  She pulled one of Kellie's many braids and Kellie let her go. "And I want you to be there, too!"

"Well, we got through ninth grade and Outdoor Ed--we're survivorwomen."  Kellie threw a stone up to the top of the eight foot cliff.  "This is nothing, right?"

"How's your photography project coming along?" Dana was changing the subject, it left her feeling a little queasy.

"I have a lot of pretty pictures, but  I am still waiting for something really exciting and dramatic."  She threw another rock up the cliff. "I'm hoping that rock climbing will give me another perspective."

Dana sat on the ground, not knowing if she could take another minute of this discussion.  Kellie was obsessed, everything lead to rock climbing and "perspective".  On the other hand, Dana thought, they were both strong girls.  Mr. Johnson was pretty sure that they could handle this little cliff, and they would tackle more heights the next few days. Dana appreciated the slow breaking in approach but for Kellie, the process could not go fast enough.  Dana figured that Kellie was pumped at finding something that combined her artistic interests and her boundless energy, but she wondered if she could keep up with her restless and creative friend.  Dana was the tortoise to Kellie's hare.

Coffee of the Week--tasting notes from a barista

As most of you know by now, I work at Starbucks and I get a free pound of coffee for life every week.  This week's coffee mark out is Yukon Blend.

Yukon is a blend of Indonesian and Latin American beans, and on the tasting spectrum between mild and extra-bold, it is considered a bold one.  But it is so smooth, it doesn't feel like it to me.  Most Indonesian coffees have low acidic, herbal and earthy tones.  Some differences occur like a spicey note that makes the Sumatra bean really feel like sandpaper on my tongue.  In contrast, the coffee from Sulawesi tends to be silky smooth.  Latin American beans are a lot brighter, because the post harvest processing of those coffee cherries is called "washed",  where the mucilage and pulp surrounding the coffee bean inside is removed with an extra wash.  Indonesian coffees are called "semi-washed" meaning the mucilage surrounding the coffee bean is left on for a while before it is removed by washing. 

As a blend, the Yukon is well-rounded because the Latin American beans tend to cut the heaviness of the Indonesian bean.  There is some acidity, but not much, which I detect on the sides of my tongue.  There is an earthiness still present, but it doesn't linger as long.  There is some spice, but it is silky, too.  I never feel like I have "coffee breath" when I sip Yukon.  When customers want to make a step up from the milder coffees in our line-up, I always recommend Yukon because it doesn't overwhelm them as much.  But it is an outdoorsy, large and broad tasting coffee, and if you keep sipping it, it's like discovering a gold mine.