Noticing

Devotional Thoughts, Nature, Photos 0

On Sunday, I received a wonderful gift.

I’d had kind of a grumpy week. I was scheduled to work six days in a row. (I’ll get a 3-day weekend this coming week.) I ended up taking one day off because of a light headache I just couldn’t shake. Every day at the library, I asked numerous people to please wear their masks, and I was starting to get angry about it. That persistent headache wasn’t helping, even if I knew it was just a migraine and I didn’t have a fever. On Saturday, I was person-in-charge and two people in a row displayed some aberrant behavior, though I was relieved that they did leave the library soon after.

All that to say, it was a stressful week.

Sunday was my day off. I hadn’t taken a walk by my lake in a week, so this was my opportunity, before online church. The week before I hadn’t even bothered to bring my camera, because I felt like I was taking pictures of the same flowers each time. But sometimes on Sunday mornings, I’d seen deer, so I brought my camera that day.

And my friend the great blue heron was there! Though the heron is a regular, I hadn’t seen much of him since the shelter-in-place order happened. Perhaps it didn’t like how many people walked by the lake.

But today the water was very still, and the bird was very still, and I got a whole sequence of cool mirrored pictures.

It even flew to the nearer side of the lake and I got the picture at the top of this post.

Then walking on. I spotted a butterfly whose wings were different on the inside and the outside. Patiently waiting, I got shots of both.

My walk takes me by the lake, then in a meadowy part with big bushes, then beside some woods. Then I turn around and come back. I hoped to see deer in the woods as I had the week before, but nothing this time. Instead, when I got back to the meadow, there was another butterfly, and this one was posed with the sun shining on its wings. When its wings were together, the sun didn’t shine through, but when it opened its wings, they lit up spectacularly as they were now thin enough to be transparent.

The butterfly was, however, a bit stubborn. I’d wait and wait for it to open it wings, and it wouldn’t do so until I lowered the camera. So catching a few times with the lighting felt like a triumph.

As I walked back toward the lake, in a place where the path is constrained by bushes on one side and the lake on the other — there in the bushes, right next to the path, two fawns were sitting and eating leaves.

What could I do? I stood and took pictures, of course. Eventually a jogger came by and joined me. When she decided to go on, that got one of the fawns to get up and walk out of the bushes.

After that, I was wondering if the heron was still there, lurking behind the tall grasses where I couldn’t see it. As I checked, I heard an enormous splash and saw a bird rising up from the water. It turned out that an osprey was fishing in the lake and continued circling — in a way that tantalized me into trying to get its picture.

By that time, I felt simply overwhelmed with blessings.

Last time I blogged here, I talked about God giving good gifts to His children. This felt like gifts given with good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over. My cup overflowed!

I hadn’t done anything to deserve such blessings. I’d been grumpy! But that got swept aside.

Then in the online church service, my pastor Barbara Miner talked about how Jesus notices us. The text was from the story where Jesus is going to heal a synagogue ruler’s daughter who has died, and a woman in the crowd touches the hem of his robe and is healed. Jesus, on an urgent mission, stops and turns and notices the woman. She must have been mortified! She wasn’t trying to be noticed! But Jesus calls her “Daughter.”

Pastor Barbara reminded us that Jesus notices us and challenged us to notice others.

And that got me thinking of my walks by the lake. When I don’t bring my camera, I don’t notice things as small as butterflies. (Okay, I would have noticed those fawns! And probably the great blue heron, too.) I would have marveled at the osprey and then kept walking. But wanting to get pictures made me really look, really notice.

Last year, I got a better camera, with a stronger zoom, and my pictures got dramatically better. Even before that, I noticed that little flowers by the path have a whole new look when you zoom in. Butterflies are just a speck until you zoom in and notice their beauty. And it might take some waiting before they light up for you.

Isn’t that like people? I was reminded of Pastor Tom Berlin’s sermon months ago, where he talked about using Mr. Rogers as an example of paying attention to people.

If I can zoom in and focus on people, it’s so much easier to notice their beauty.

As a kind of icing on the cake, the next morning I worked the late shift and got another walk in, and got to see yet another species, a great egret.

Now, my lofty goal was to start zooming in on people and noticing the beauty of their souls. So far at the library, I confess that most of the zooming in I’m doing is on Nosers who aren’t wearing their masks properly.

But I’m writing this whole post as a reminder to Notice.

When I Notice God’s gifts, I end up feeling overwhelmed with blessings.

And how amazing that Jesus notices me. And I’m going to say He noticed that some blessings would lift my spirits right about now.

And maybe I can pass that on and practice noticing others.

Contentment vs. Asking with Shameless Audacity

Contentment, Devotional Thoughts, Prayer 0


(Picture from June 1, 2013.)

I’m on my annual Springtime personal spiritual retreat this week. Monday it began with me thinking about how happy my life is and how fulfilling so many of the activities I make a regular part of my life are, because they express who I am.

This was happening the day after, on Sunday evening, I got a message on an online dating site from a guy who ended up being a scammer. There were three big tip-offs: The first message was generic. (I specifically ask on my profile for non-generic messages.) The messages made it clear he was not a native English speaker. (That’s theoretically okay, but wasn’t obvious from his profile, so he was probably a scammer operating from overseas.) And the big tip-off, which I always always answer with a No was asking to go off the dating site right away. (And my No means they stop sending me messages.)

So Monday I was discouraged with online dating, but very happy with my life as it is. So I began thinking, Maybe I should give up on the whole idea of ever finding another man and getting married again. It would be nice, sure, but my life is good and I for sure don’t want to have someone in my life who doesn’t fit with me, who instead of appreciating the way the things I do express who I am, puts a damper on me doing those things.

In short, I’m content. That’s good. So why even bother with having an online profile? Maybe I should just plan on spending the rest of my life happily single.

The next morning, as part of my spiritual retreat. I looked again at the verse and theme I’d chosen for 2020.

The verse was Luke 11:9 — “So I say to you: Ask and it will be given to you, seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.”

The theme was “Shameless Audacity” — from Luke 11:8. Jesus has told a parable about someone asking for bread at midnight. “I tell you, even though he will not get up and give you the bread because of friendship, yet because of your shameless audacity he will surely get up and give you as much as you need.” And then he launches into verse 9, telling us to ask.

And I’ll be honest: What instantly comes to mind to ask God for is a man who loves me and loves God, a man for me to marry.

So I thought, I will ask again. I won’t completely give up on the idea.

But there was a problem with that. Yesterday I started feeling discontent. I was thinking more about what my life is missing and less about what I have.

This morning, while I went on my walk, I was thinking how to balance Shameless Audacity with Contentment. I don’t want to lose my joy and contentment because I’m asking God for the desires of my heart.

I do think God wants us to ask for the desires of our hearts. There’s this verse, and there are many others.

I think of the quote from C. S. Lewis, “We are far too easily pleased.”

But it feels selfish and greedy to ask for something more when my life is already so very good. In fact, wait a minute, it feels like shameless audacity.

And I think maybe that’s the way to pull the two together, to be content while still asking for more — and that’s to acknowledge that it’s shameless audacity by being grateful.

In fact, it goes back to Philippians 4:6 — “Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.”

And rather than feeling discontent from doing that — when I acknowledge the shameless audacity and combine it with gratitude — I feel a whole lot of joy.

Because it reminds me that God the Father loves to give good gifts to His children.

While I was walking, I thought of another, much smaller request, that feels like shameless audacity. I haven’t seen the great blue heron who frequents my lake since the stay at home order happened in March. So, yes, for a few days I’ve been praying that I’d see one.

Well, this morning I acknowledged that the irises I’ve been taking pictures of this week have been amazing and stunning, so it’s shameless audacity for me to ask for something more, but yes, Lord, I’m going to ask to see a great blue heron.

And sure enough, a person walking a dog ahead of me startled a great blue heron, so it flew to the other side of the lake.

And I saw another fly by my window in the afternoon. (This is after not seeing one for more than two months.)

And maybe if God grants that small shamelessly audacious request, maybe He will grant the bigger one.

He doesn’t have to, and I know He doesn’t have to, and I am happy and content and thankful for the life I have and it will not be a tragedy at all if I am single for the rest of my life.

But I’m going to be shamelessly audacious and ask.

Affinity Combinations

Joy, Musings 0

I’m taking my Annual Personal Spiritual Retreat this week. I’d originally meant to start it off with a 48-Hour Book Challenge on Monday morning. Then I thought I’d do a few things before I started Monday morning — and it will now soon be Monday evening. Oh well!

One of the things I did though, was some thinking about my life — the whole point of a personal retreat.

And I am abundantly happy with my life.

In fact, this morning I was developing a little theory. A Theory of Affinity Combinations. (I’m going to have to come up with a catchier name.) This theory is that activities that are especially satisfying are ones that combine two or more of the things you love — the result will feel especially an expression of who you uniquely are.

19 years ago, I began writing Sonderbooks. Then it was an e-newsletter, but before long it became a website of book reviews. Even back then, what I loved so much about it was that it combined my love of reading with my love of writing and even my enjoyment of programming (in making the website). And since the reviews give my personal opinion — Sonderbooks is something that expresses who I am. And when it actually helps people find good books, that’s even better!

So last year, when I won the Allie Beth Martin Award, a national award from the Public Library Association for “extraordinary range and depth of knowledge about books” and “distinguished ability to share that knowledge” — in a large part about Sonderbooks — that felt like a validation of who I am, and brought me so much joy. (Writing Sonderbooks already brings me so much joy. But I’m so happy to realize other people find value in it, too.)

But today I got to thinking about the other things in my life that bring me joy because they’re about combining my affinities. My Mathematical Knitting springs to mind. When anyone asks me about my prime factorization sweater, “You made it?” I answer “Of course! Do you really think anyone else would think of doing such a thing?” Combining my love of mathematical patterns with my love of knitting brings results that, again, feel like they represent who I am.

My Sonderquotes blog fits that, too. I’ve loved collecting quotations since I was in high school. And I’ve loved taking pictures — especially of nature — all my life. A couple years ago, it finally dawned on me to combine the two — and the result brings me so much joy.

By combining things I love, these things all feel like an expression of ME. They all have a piece of my heart.

And I think the book I’m working on fits that, too. It’s about looking at different types of Psalms and using the patterns to write your own psalms. This project combines my love of the Psalms with my love of writing and love of memorizing God’s word — into something that feels like it’s uniquely something for me to say.

But the biggest Affinity Combination of them all is my job as a librarian. This combines my love of books, my love of sharing books with others, my detail-oriented love of organization and lists and research, my love of reading to little kids, and even my love of math and enjoyment of variety and desire to be helpful — all in the best job in the world that so much seems to fit what I was created to do.

And I am so blessed that I currently have lots of space in my life for so many activities that are from combined affinities and bring me so much joy.

How about you? What activities do you do that combine different things you love for a result that’s especially suited to you?

Creation Psalms

Praying with the Psalmists 0

I’m doing a project where I’m looking at different types of Psalms and using the ideas to write my own psalms. It’s a form of prayer and an exercise that is blessing me every time I try.

Now I’ve come to Creation Hymns, which seem like one of the most straightforward types of Psalms. Some examples are Psalms 8, 33, 65, 95, 96, 104, and 148. These are hymns that talk about God’s amazing power in creating and maybe talk about how small mankind is when compared with creation.

In trying to write my own, it’s hard to know where to start. But lately, under Stay-at-Home orders, the sky has been more blue than ever and I’ve gotten to take daily walks by my lake on my lunch break when working from home. So I’m just going to start by praising God for the beauty I see every day.

The one other thing to keep in mind is try to use parallelism — repeat yourself, saying something similar in a slightly different way. It gives the writing the rhythm of the Psalms and gives the writing a meditative pace.

I’m going to try to keep it short to make it an example that you can try at home!

Lord, you didn’t have to make the world beautiful.
You could have created a colorless landscape.
But your creation oozes with beauty
and shines into my windows with wonder.
Each season brings new glories;
your wonders never cease to unfold.
When the cherry blossoms fall
and the bluebells go silent,
then irises quietly sprout at lakeside,
flamboyantly flashing their colors.

Scientists say that living by water is good for the health of humans
Is that because of the beauty of aquatic creatures?
Or maybe the soothing sounds of moving water
or simply the mesmerizing maze of ripples?

The sheer variety of your creatures is astonishing.
Birds alone come in all shapes and sizes
from the slow long-necked wade of the great blue heron
to the proud perch of the bright tree swallow
to the raucous cry of the crow,
the shimmering stare of the grackle,
and the sudden dive of the osprey.

Lord, if a sparrow can’t fall without your noticing,
if you keep track of myriads of creatures,
which you created in all their amazing forms
which you made with the wildest imagination of all,
then surely you can track my movements.
Certainly you know my fears.
Assuredly you understand my longings.
Decidedly you comprehend my needs.

And I will never go unnoticed.
I will always be in your tender care.

Now you try! A Psalm about Creation. What have you noticed lately?

Wisdom Psalms

Devotional Thoughts, Praying with the Psalmists 0

I’m doing a project where I’m going over different types of Psalms I learned about in Psalms class when I was a student at Biola University more than thirty years ago, and I’m using those Psalms as a pattern for my own prayers. My favorite is the Lament, which is a sort of paint-by-number and walks you through pouring out your heart to God and then remembering that God is good and is with you. But now I’m going through some more challenging forms that I’d never before thought to try myself.

I’d come to Wisdom Psalms, which has lots of examples — some are Psalms 1, 14, 15, 19, 34, 37, 73, 111, 112, and 119. Essentially, these Psalms are about affirming that it’s worth it to follow God, and it’s not a good idea to do wicked things. They often include the phrase, “How blessed are those who… ”

But it feels presumptuous to even try to write a Wisdom Psalm, so I decided to think of them as Pep Talk Psalms. What do I need a pep talk about?

I was still feeling stuck, when this weekend I found I needed a pep talk. I’ve been doing great with the Stay-at-Home order in my state. I’m an introvert, and I have plenty of things I do to keep myself busy and happy. But for some reason on Saturday — I suspect a combination of not getting enough sleep, having a small headache, and not having gone anywhere for more than a week — I slept late and then seriously thought about not getting out of bed at all because what difference would it make?

Well, I did get better when I got up, but I realized I seriously needed to add some sparkles into my life.

Then our pastor’s online sermon Sunday was on gratitude. I remembered the wise words of Christel Nani, a writer I admire, saying that giving thanks puts you in the present moment and helps you escape regret about the past and worry about the future as you think about what you’re thankful for right now.

So with that in mind, I went for a walk by my lake. It was an ordinary day, but so beautiful! The air is pollution-free with so few cars on the roads and recent rain. Everything captivated me, and little birds seemed to pose for me and the neighbors’ azaleas were blooming lavishly and I saw the first iris of the season, and my own balcony flowers were glowing, and looking at the day opening my eyes to all the beauty just filled my heart with so much joy.

So that night, I wrote this Pep Talk Psalm, taking Psalm 112 as a starting point example.

Praise the Lord.
Blessed are those who notice his handiwork,
who open their eyes to the wonders of his creation.
For then a goldfinch is a gift,
and the first iris of the year is a mark of distinction.
The green of Spring leaves amazes them
and the blue of the unpolluted sky astonishes.
With a heart of gratitude,
birdsong trills out beyond any noise
and flowers pop out of camouflage;
petunias glow in the sunlight,
and rhododendrons pose with raindrops.
Blue jays flash the cartoon colors of their wings,
and proud papa birds preen for photos.
Common things become spectacular,
and small things burst with joy
when the Lord opens your eyes
and shows you how richly
he has poured out blessings upon you
and surrounded you with his wonders.
Praise the Lord.

As always, the exercise of writing the Psalm blessed me to pieces. So I offer the exercise to you: Try writing a Pep Talk Psalm. If you have trouble getting started, think about how to finish the sentence, “Blessed are those who….”

My Own Salvation History Psalm

Praying with the Psalmists 0

Last week, I wrote about Salvation History Psalms.

Part of my point in analyzing different types of Psalms is to encourage people to try them out. Write a Psalm! It’s a great exercise in prayer.

So I wanted to do one myself.

Here’s what you do:

Make a list of times in your life when you saw God brought you through.
Then write about it! That’s the whole point — to go over your history with God.

To make it Psalm-like, I tried to use parallelism, tried to repeat myself and say things in more than one way. I began with an “Address to God” and finished with a “Call to Praise,” but otherwise it was a list of some highlights of ways God has worked in my life.

And such a blessing to go over those things! Because when remember what God has already done, it’s so much easier to trust that He will bring us through the current situation.

I’m going to offer my own Salvation History Psalm — as a way of encouraging you to try writing one yourself. Not because this is something special — but it is heartfelt.

Lord, you’ve been by my side since I was a child.
You placed me in a family where I heard about you.
I was trained at Christian schools;
I was encouraged to study and memorize your word.
I was praised for following rules,
and proud of how much I knew,
taught about things to do,
as if that’s how you please God.
“Knowledge puffs up, but love builds up.”
“Without love, I am nothing.”
I memorized the words,
but they weren’t yet in my heart.

We married young, and a baby came along so soon.
Motherhood was scary, but full of joy.
I wanted to do everything right
and my family to do everything right, too.
I did not succeed,
but You were with us.

I got teaching jobs when we moved,
a job lined up before I’d even found our phone,
(a landline in those days).
You opened doors and helped us pay bills,
make new friends, find a church.

With our second child, preterm contractions put me on bed rest.
My husband and our church family
made that time a blessing.
My oldest joined me in rest and play.
With the new baby, I kept teaching and working,
juggling child care and a happy growing family.

Then we started an adventure –
our family moved to Germany.
You promised your presence would go with us
and you poured blessings out upon us.
My first white Christmas
was that first Christmas in Leithöfe,
with treetops glistening
and snowy fields spread out before us.
We traveled to castles
and wondered at forested beauty.
We walked among the tulips of Holland
and looked out our own windows over fields of Rapps.
We climbed our own hill after dinner,
looked out over a panorama,
and smiled at the baby lambs.

When we suddenly had to move,
you brought us something even greater.
Your goodness seemed laid out with gifts and blessings.
A beautiful home in the hills,
with a view of the valley.
Then a job of my dreams,
dealing with books, seeing friends.
How did it all come crashing down?
Was my beautiful Christian marriage not what it seemed?

I’d told my beloved he probably shouldn’t walk in the woods
with the other woman.
Of course she’d find it romantic;
he’d be leading her on.
In fact, I’d like to walk in the woods with him.
It never entered my head he might want
to lead her on,
he might have chosen
a different path.

I tried to hold it together.
I tried to make things fit back into place.
I begged, I groveled, I cried.
Surely this was all a misunderstanding?

I read the remedies;
I tried seduction.
I tried to kidnap him
for a special date,
to rekindle romance,
to talk and connect.
I tried notes,
I tried emails,
I tried phone calls.
I tried everything I could possibly think of
to let him know he was loved.
Because surely if he knew how I loved him,
he wouldn’t turn away?

I still don’t understand how it happened.
I still don’t know when I lost his heart.
Before we even were engaged,
he told me, “I will never leave you.”
He’d promised to love and cherish me
for better, or for worse.
I don’t know why he decided those vows didn’t matter
and that I wasn’t worthy of love.
He told me he couldn’t forgive me.
He told me I was a terrible wife.
But the truth is that I was at least faithful.
And I at least gave my all to keep on loving him
even when all hope was lost.

You, Lord, were gentle with me
when my husband was harsh.
You sent my offenses away as far as the east is from the west
when my husband brought up words spoken eighteen years before.
“O Lord, if you kept a record of wrongs,
Lord, who could stand?
But with you there is forgiveness,
so we can, with reverence, serve you.”

My husband may not have forgiven my shortcomings,
but You did.
You showed me
that You had great things in store for me.

I wanted to stay near my husband,
but You let him run to the other side of the earth.
And once we had the world between us,
You poured out blessings on me.

You showed me I was Loved.
You told me I shone like a star.
You declared Yourself my husband for this season.
You sent me into the wilderness
and spoke tenderly to me.

And your people!
They moved me into a new home,
not once but thrice –
even with all my hoards of books,
they literally bore my burdens.

You gave me libraries!
A job, a profession, a calling!
First part-time, close by my home,
and then full-time, even closer.
I was in my forties and newly-minted with my degree,
yet I was welcomed in service to children.
I got to share the joys of books.

Disappointments came later:
Budget cuts sent me away from the library,
into exile for six months.
Twice I was rejected for the William Morris Seminar
and to be a Cybils judge.
I missed being elected to the Newbery committee by fifteen votes,
and I didn’t get the Selector job I’d wanted so much.
Nor did I get chosen for the position in Oregon near my kids.

But You were with me, Lord.
The disappointments always worked out for something better,
always, every time.
even the divorce, the biggest disappointment of all.

I got back to the library,
now working in a Regional branch,
I was well-positioned to promote.
I worked with new friends
and colleagues it was a delight to see each day.

I got to attend the William Morris Seminar
and be a Cybils judge,
all in good time.
Best of all was being elected to the Newbery committee
when my empty nest was fresh
and I could use my time to read.

As if that weren’t enough,
I won the Allie Beth Martin
a national award for knowledge of books
and distinguished ability to share that knowledge.
Who knew such an award existed?
And that I would receive the honorarium
exactly after home repairs put me in debt
for that exact amount?

Another disappointment happened when I was looking for a home –
my first offer fell through.
And then as soon as that was definite,
a condo came on the market
with an amazing lake view,
in my price range,
in driving distance of the library,
and just the right size for me and my books.
That place where I “spread my tent curtains wide”
blesses me to this day,
as I walk by my lake,
take pictures of birds and flowers and leaves,
and marvel in the beauty of the world the Lord has made.

Praise the Lord!
For every day He surrounds me with His beauty.
He turns my disappointments into dancing,
my setbacks into successes,
my crying into singing.

Praise the Lord!

Legacy

Musings 1

I’ve been thinking about my legacy today. There’s a song by Casting Crowns that plays on Christian radio that is annoyingly catchy that says, “I don’t want to leave a legacy…” but I do want to leave a legacy. Yes, I want my legacy to make people think of Jesus — but I hope my life will be enough of a light that people will miss me, too.

Why am I thinking about my legacy? Because of the coronavirus, of course. It’s a reminder of our mortality. Today I read that it causes blood clots and strokes. Since I already had a stroke at 47 years of age and was left with a small right vertebral artery, I’m at higher risk for strokes. I also woke up at 5 am this morning because it hurt to breathe and in my half-asleep state was convinced I had Covid-19. Well, by the time I got up it was just mild chest pain and I didn’t have a fever — so I think it was just the bronchitis I’ve had since January acting up for some unknown reason. But all of it is a reminder that yes, any of us could die at any time.

Both my parents died in the last seven months, my father unexpectedly from a heart attack. Seeing the mess he left behind that my siblings are trying to clean up made me want to do a better job of having things in order. Or at least that’s what I want. (Not that I’m doing much about it. I did start a list of my passwords….)

Then I’ve got a friend who’s had a lot of health issues lately who talks about how fondly she thinks of going to heaven. I don’t like it when she talks like that, because I think life on earth is a great gift, but at the same time I remember times when I used to get frequent migraines that I would think fondly of heaven. But I do think God puts us on earth for a reason and it’s not because He’s cruel.

So all that is to say, I wanted to write up some thoughts about if I should die in 2020. It seems to be a little more likely in 2020 than it usually is. Still not terribly likely, but slightly more likely than before.

First of all, I do believe I would be in heaven, and I think heaven is so wonderful, I would not be missing earth.

But I also have lived a good life. I am happy with the life I’ve had. In fact, I want to make this a list of three things I’d regret — and then a long list of things about the life I’ve already lived that I’m tremendously thankful for.

Okay, I don’t actually think there will be regrets in heaven. So let me call them three things I’d hoped would happen before I die.

1) First, I hope that I will be reconciled with my oldest child.

I love her, and her existence has brought me delight since the day she was born. I wish I’d realized much, much sooner that she was female (which makes a lot of sense), but still the person she is shines. I miss finding out what’s going on in her life. I miss the way she challenges me and expands my mind.

All the same, if it’s possible from heaven, I’m pretty certain I’ll be watching her and watching over her, if that’s possible. I might get to see more of her that way, who knows?

2) I’d really like to marry again in this life.

It’s not a tragedy if I don’t — my life is full of joy. And it’s probably terribly selfish of me, but I’d like to leave a great big hole in somebody’s life. I’d like to love someone who loves me and loves God. I’d like to share life with a kind man again on this earth.

But it’s different than with my first marriage. Then I wasn’t sure I was even lovable until I met him and found out he loved me. Now? I’m quirky, sure, but I’m confident I can have a wonderful partnership with the right person — but it’s a lot trickier to find such a man who’s also available. And life is too good to settle for a less than optimal partnership.

Anyway, I may not leave a big gaping hole in one person’s life — but I am confident that I’d leave lots of large holes in other people’s lives. I have been abundantly, richly, overwhelmingly blessed with good friendships throughout my life. I am much loved, even if there is not romance in my life right now.

3) I hope I’ll publish a book before I die.

But hey, I’ve got my blogs! I’ve got Sonderbooks! Hoping to be published is partly because all my life I’ve wanted to be a writer. But again, it’s not a tragedy if this doesn’t happen. After all, I even got to write my life story in Project 52.

I am excited about the thought of heaven, but I am in *no* rush to go there! I love life, and hope to continue to live on earth for a few more decades.

But I want my kids to know, when I’m gone, that I won’t feel cheated if my life should be cut short. I am so thankful for the life I’ve already had, and that’s really what I want to reflect on here. How do I even begin?

Well, let’s start with the obvious: I’m so thankful for my kids. The part of their lives they shared with me was awesome, and I’m so proud of the adults they grew to be. Knowing them (even imperfectly) makes me happy.

And that means I’m thankful I married their Dad. I’m thankful that we became adults together. I’m thankful for the kind of father he was when our kids were young. I’m thankful for how he shared in childcare responsibilities. And I’m especially thankful that his job meant we got to live in Europe for ten years and got to see the world.

I’m also thankful I got divorced. I’m still sad he wanted a divorce and going through it was indeed the worst thing that ever happened to me. But coming out the other side, I like the way it deepened my relationship with God. I like the way I learned that I am lovable and forgivable despite what my husband might think. I do like that I learned to be a whole lot less judgmental and gained new compassion for people going through hard things. I no longer assumed that they broke the rules and brought it on themselves. I learned that life is not in my control — but that God will walk with me through anything.

I am thankful that God has had His hand on my life all my life. I was brought up in a Christian family and accepted Jesus when I was very young — and God has stayed with me.

I’m thankful that my parents encouraged me (with money!) to memorize Scripture, so that God’s Word has always been my comfort and guide.

I’m thankful that my beliefs changed since I was a child. I’m thankful that now I believe that God will eventually save everyone. Along with that, I believe that God’s love for us is deep and unfailing. I believe that God doesn’t get upset with me when I stay up too late doing a jigsaw puzzle or get distracted while I have my quiet time. I believe that he doesn’t want to hear a list of everything I’ve done wrong — I believe He wants my heart.

Here I’m going to insert the Psalm I’ve been memorizing this week, Psalm 130. This is what I believe God is like:

Out of the depths I cry to you, LORD;
Lord, hear my voice.
Let your ears be attentive
to my cry for mercy.

If you, LORD, kept a record of sins,
Lord, who could stand?
But with you there is forgiveness,
so that we can, with reverence, serve you.

I wait for the LORD, my whole being waits,
and in his word I put my hope.
I wait for the Lord
more than watchmen wait for the morning,
more than watchmen wait for the morning.

Sondy, put your hope in the LORD,
for with the LORD is unfailing love
and with him is full redemption.
He himself will redeem you
from all your sins.

[Modifications in the last paragraph are mine.]

I am thankful that God doesn’t keep a record of sins. I am thankful that He has given me a calling and allowed me to serve Him.

I’m so thankful that I get to be a librarian and that I got to be on the Newbery committee and I get to write my website of book reviews and share good books with people!

And I’m so thankful that I received the 2019 Allie Beth Martin Award in recognition of all that! That felt so validating.

And I’m thankful for other little things I get to do. I’m thankful that I get to live in a beautiful place. I’m thankful that I get to take beautiful pictures. I’m thankful that Facebook exists and I can share those pictures with my friends. And I’m thankful that I can put quotes on the pictures and share wise things from my reading — with pictures on my Sonderquotes blog.

I’m thankful I outgrew my migraines. Someone recently asked if there was an age you’d go back to — and I realized that my 50s have been the best — because I lost my migraines. My life has always been good. But it’s nice to deal with pain so much less often.

I’m thankful for my three hoards — books, yarn (for knitting), and games. My kids are going to have some fun getting rid of those things, but they’ve brought me lots of joy, so they’ve been worth it.

And that reminds me — I’m thankful I’ve gotten to be a matheknitician! My mathematical knitting creations are beautiful things that came out of my brain, and it makes me happy to have such expressions.

I’m so thankful for friends. I have been extra blessed in my life with friends. First, I’ve got my twelve siblings. And then friends still in my life since third grade, friends from high school and college, friends I met in New Jersey, Illinois, Germany, and Virginia, friends I met via my website and discovered were kindred spirits, friends who enjoy exchanging long emails, friends I work with who brighten my days, and new friends from my new church and the choir where we make music together.

I know that I’m a quirky person. When I see how much I’m enjoying shelter in place (Reading! Writing! Puzzling!) and how rare that is — I realize not everyone’s going to find things in common with me.

But how blessed I am that I’ve collected an enormous set of wonderful people who have touched my life.

And that alone is enough reason for me to say I’ve lived a wonderful life.

I hope I’ll get to experience that life much longer. But whether or not — what a joy this life has already been!

Remembering God’s Faithfulness

Devotional Thoughts, Prayer, Praying with the Psalmists 0

Back in the 1980s when I was a student at Biola University, I took an amazing class on the Psalms taught by Dr. Edward Curtis. He taught us about the many different types of Psalms and opened my eyes to things about them I hadn’t noticed before.

Today I was reading in Psalm 129. The beginning goes like this:

“They have greatly oppressed me from my youth,”
let Israel say;
“they have greatly oppressed me from my youth,
but they have not gained the victory over me.
Plowmen have plowed my back
and made their furrows long.
But the Lord is righteous;
he has cut me free from the cords of the wicked.”

That got me thinking about the Salvation History Psalms. Unlike the Lament, Salvation History Psalms are defined more by their content than by their form. They are Psalms where the writer reviews what God has done and what God has brought them through. That’s offered as evidence that God can bring them through the current situation.

Can you see why I got to thinking about them?

On top of that, I was moved by my pastor’s online sermon on Easter Sunday. He said that in the middle of a pandemic, Easter doesn’t feel like Easter. But he reminded us that the first Easter didn’t feel like Easter, either.

Before the first Easter, things were very dark indeed. But the light came. And because of what God brought those first disciples through then, we remember now that God is with us in the darkness.

That’s what Salvation History Psalms were all about. They rehearsed what God had done, bringing His people out from slavery in Egypt in the Exodus, listing out more ways God had delivered them. And because God did that — we know He’s not going to abandon His people now.

Some examples of Salvation History Psalms are Psalm 78, 105, 106, 135, and 136. The theme of these Psalms is: Remember!

These Psalms are long, telling stories, so I won’t write out the whole Psalms. But here are some verses that give the idea.

Psalm 78:4–

We will not hide them from their descendants;
we will tell the next generation
the praiseworthy deeds of the Lord,
his power, and the wonders he has done.

Psalm 105:5-6–

Remember the wonders he has done,
his miracles, and the judgments he pronounced,
you his servants, the descendants of Abraham,
his chosen ones, the children of Jacob.

Psalm 106:6–

We have sinned, even as our ancestors did;
we have done wrong and acted wickedly.

Psalm 135:3-4–

Praise the Lord, for the Lord is good;
sing praise to his name, for that is pleasant.
For the Lord has chosen Jacob to be his own,
Israel to be his treasured possession.

Psalm 136:10-12–

to him who struck down the firstborn of Egypt
His love endures forever.
and brought Israel out from among them
His love endures forever.
with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm;
His love endures forever.

Salvation History Psalms are different from Thanksgiving Psalms. Those are more about a specific time when God came through. The Salvation History Psalms tend to be about the history of the people of Israel and how God had a pattern of taking care of them.

How can we use this in our own prayers? Well, you can think through the collective history of the Church. You can also make it personal and recite more of a history of how faithful God has been to you. Beyond any one incident.

With all of these: Because God has been with us in the past, we know He is with us now. Reciting the history of how God has been with us reminds us we don’t need to be afraid.

My plan was to write one and leave it as an example. But it almost feels too personal.

So for now, I’m going to go offline and make myself a list of ways God has worked in my life when I’ve gone through darkness and He has shown that He is there.

Will that help me in the midst of a pandemic? Yes it will. Because whatever happens, I do believe the Lord will walk with me.

As Jesus said to his disciples before his death:

Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.

Praying in Crazy Times

Devotional Thoughts, Prayer, Praying with the Psalmists 0

During this pandemic, I’ve heard people say they don’t even know how to pray.

I’m thinking about the Psalms lately as I think about praying. I do believe there are many ways to pray — but some of those ways are to pray like the psalmists.

I’ve been looking at laments lately. An interesting thing about laments is that in the Psalms, they generally spend a lot more time telling God what the problem is than they do telling him what they want him to do about it. It’s almost like praying is more for our benefit than it is for God’s.

Over the years, I’ve often been told to pray specific prayers, because then you can see when God has answered. I’ve been told to name it and claim it.

And yes, we’re supposed to lay our requests before God with thanksgiving. There’s nothing wrong with telling him what we want to happen. He’s said, “You may ask me for anything in my name, and I will do it.”

But what is the difference between asking God and telling him what to do?

Take a look at the Psalms. They pour out their hearts to God about the big mess they’re in, and then they ask God to act. They ask God for help. They aren’t usually terribly specific about what form the help needs to take. In fact, it seems like they actually trust God to figure out what should be done.

I think about when my husband left me. For years, I prayed that God would bring him back. It took a long time before I realized that I wasn’t trusting God. I was telling him what I thought needed to happen.

God did answer my prayers for help. He granted me protection and security, a new job, a new home, and a church family that cared about me. He took my relationship with himself to a whole new level.

In fact, he graciously granted me an abundance of blessings I’d never thought to ask for.

There was a key moment for me when I realized that “standing for my marriage” wasn’t actually trusting God. Could I trust God to help me and bless me when I was not deciding what the outcome had to be?

Take a look at some Psalms. You can almost page through and take your pick, but I’ll point out a couple where it’s really striking.

Look at Psalm 44. The psalmist goes on for 22 verses about how bad things have gotten. Then they end with these four verses:

Awake, Lord! Why do you sleep?
Rouse yourself! Do not reject us forever.
Why do you hide your face
and forget our misery and oppression?
We are brought down to the dust;
our bodies cling to the ground.
Rise up and help us;
rescue us because of your unfailing love.

Another good example is Psalm 10. This one is a more complete lament, and it’s got the “Words of Assurance” section after the “Petition.” In fact, out of 18 verses, there is only one where he asks God to do anything, and that verse is short and sweet:

Arise, Lord! Lift up your hand, O God.
Do not forget the helpless.

So this is an idea for praying during this pandemic. I’m not saying this is the only way to pray. But as an exercise, try pouring out to God all your worries and all the ways things are not going well.

And then ask him:

Arise, Lord! Lift up your hand, O God.
Do not forget the helpless.

It doesn’t hurt, after that, to continue with the form of the lament. Remind yourself that you really do believe that God can handle this. Make some promises about how you’re going to celebrate when God brings you through!

But I for sure don’t know what God should do about this global pandemic. I’m glad that I do trust that he knows, and that he will have mercy.

But you, O God, do see trouble and grief.
You consider it to take it in hand.
The victim commits himself to you;
you are the helper of the fatherless.

Walk with us, Lord.

A Psalm from the Scatterbrained

Devotional Thoughts, Praying with the Psalmists 0

I’m feeling scatterbrained this week. I’m trying to focus and failing. Tonight I was trying to get to working on my Psalms book again and just going nowhere.

That’s when I thought: I want more example Psalms. To show that you can use these forms to pray and it really helps, because they direct your thoughts. Why not write a Psalm Prayer about it?

I’ve done Laments. But tonight I tried a Penitential Psalm. Because I’m pretty sure it’s my own fault I’m getting worried and distracted. I’m not trusting God; I’m trying to figure things out myself.

A Penitential Psalm has pretty much the same form as a Lament, but you ask God for mercy in the address to God and the complaint part talks about how bad things have gotten because of what you’ve done, so it’s also confession. (See Psalms 6, 38, and 51.)

Let me review the parts:
1) Address to God
2) Complaint
3) Confession of Trust
4) Petition
5) Words of Assurance
6) Vow to Praise

Okay, I tried not to edit too much and just pray it through, so this doesn’t pretend to be polished. But here goes:

A Psalm from the Scatterbrained

Father, have mercy on me,
according to your unfailing love.
Look on my situation and have compassion;
see my failings and grant me grace.

We’re in a pandemic,
and the world has turned upside-down.
I don’t know what’s normal,
and I don’t know how to plan.
My thoughts are bouncing around my brain
like ping-pong balls.
I’m having trouble focusing,
distracted by each new announcement or speculation.

My work serving the public has come to a halt.
Helping people in person spreads germs.
So now we look for ways to help
while keeping everyone at a distance.
I write reviews;
I read those journals that were stacking up.
Will I learn about customer service
while staying away from customers?

What’s the problem? As an introvert,
being at home should give me focus.
But instead, I’m scatterbrained.

I want to know what to expect,
how to plan,
what date to schedule the make-up programs
and when the books are due.

It’s out of my hands.
It’s out of my hands.
Wash those hands free of germs
and free of holding the world.

Lord, is this what it takes
to show me my plans are butterflies?
Does it take a pandemic
for me to realize I’m not in control?

You do see the future.
You do watch over your children.
If you see a sparrow fall,
then you know today’s death count.
And you are there.
And you gently bear each soul to heaven.

You’ve told us that riches are fleeting.
You’ve told us our life is a breath.
Does it take a pandemic
to make us understand?

Lord, walk with your children.
Forgive us when we run ahead.
Hold our hands through the dark fearful chasm
and carry us safely out of the fire.

Lord, do not forsake us!
Show yourself by our sides.
Come quickly to help us
and grant us peace and strength.

We don’t know how this pandemic will end.
We don’t know what our lives will look like next season.
But we know you will be with us
and show us new joys on the other side.

The day will come
when we again shake hands with new friends
and throw our arms around old friends.

The time will come
when we again meet as a choir
to join our voices in praises to God,
and lift our voices together to our Mighty Fortress.