Changing Blogs

May 9, 2007
Hi, everyone, thought I would let you know that later on this afternoon I will be changing my blog over to wordpress by 1:00 Moutain Standard Time. Look for the new blog, new pictures and new article here.I love to know who has visited! Leave me a note!

Grace upon Grace

I am on hold to the passport office trying to find out why Nathan's passport hasn't arrived yet. We ordered it eight weeks ago. Last week, we traveled up to the Denver passport office to get one on the spot. They told us that Nathan's passport would surely get here in time as they checked the status and told us that it was coming from South Carolina. Now, the Tuesday mail has come and it is not here. The passport office in Aurora doesn't print its number because they have too many people who call there. I found another number that took Joel and me 40 minutes to find. Now I have been on hold with them for 15 minutes.

I wonder if people idealize what it takes to be in missions or to make a journey? I know before I left to go overseas the first time, I envisioned very spiritual people who talked in scripture phrases and trusted God daily to see miracles. Instead, I found very normal people who struggled with the administrative details and governmental requirements to live in a foreign country, the difficulties of a new language, missing familiar things like M&M's, chocolate chip cookies and English. They, like me, felt had to live through the stress of getting passports, visas, and all the other effort it takes to pas governmental regulations.

The difference was, that they had felt somehow responsible to see that everyone had an opportunity to hear the gospel message. When they read in Matthew that Jesus had compassion on the crowds and admonished His disciples to pray for the Lord of the harvest to send more laborers into the harvest, they felt that they must be an answer to the needs.

I know that many others I know, have a heart for the great things of the kingdom of God. However, their work is not so noticeable---or honored, but just as precious to the Lord. Some taking care of a sweet mother who has alzheimer's; holding and rocking a sick child who cries through out the night of an ear-infection or stomach ache; as a young single man or woaman, keeping faithful to keep to a pure moral standard and putting up with the lonliness of being a part of such a small minority of those who hold Biblical ideals, or a homeschooling mom patiently serving always in the home children without a break while daily hoping for progress in each of her children's education; or a single mom wondering how she will meet all her children's needs and daily depending on God to fill in the cracks. All are so very precious to God---all seen by Him--each minute act of faith, love and perservence.

As I have been thinking of what it requires each of us to make it through the maze of life graciously and with joyful energy that can only be explained by the Lord's presence, the kind of joy that allowed Paul to sing in prison, I have been so grateful for the unexplainable peace that comes in the moment I need to know I am not alone; the life that bubbles up in my heart as I seek, one more morning to find God as I open my Bible and lay my soul before Him. Though it is overused and could sound trite, the grace of God is that which carries me---mysterious, untouchable, foundational.

I was reminded of a song Clay, my husband, wrote many years ago. Be blessed as you read it. Blessings to all of you who are praying for us on our journey the next three weeks. You can see our pictures and reports online as we go, at whworld.blogspot.com. It will be a couple of days until we can send anything back, but we would love to have you follow us as we go!
Peace!
Grace Upon Grace
All my selfish vanity and pride
I laid beneath the cross where Jesus bled
It was for those very sins that He was crucified
But for His grace should I have died instead
When at last my will to His conceded
Jesus took me in that I might see
All I never had was never needed
To know that He has love enough for me

Now every day I know my Savior leads me
Safely through the battlefield of sin
Helping me to keep my eyes on Calvary
Knowing someday soon He'll come again

But in my fleshly weakness I can falter
When Satan puts the world before my eyes '
Til at the feet of God before the altar
I fall in shame and then I realize

He gives me grace upon grace
All of His fulness is mine
And someday I will share
All of His glory divine
Unworthy servant am I
That He should embrace
All of my sin and my guilt
With His grace upon grace

Blessed are the poor in spirit, Jesus said
Blessed are the merciful and meek
Blest be those who mourn they will be comforted
Blessed is the God by grace we seek

Not a day goes by without His mercy
All creation sheltered by His hand
Members one another of His family
Love so great I'll never understand

Why He gives me grace upon grace
All of His fulness is mine
And someday I will share
All of His glory divine
Unworthy servant am I
That He should embrace
All of my sin and my guilt
With His grace upon grace

copyright 2007 Clay Clarkson

Grace undeserved

Love a man, even in his sin, for that love is a likeness of the divine love and is the summit of love on earth.
Fyodor Dostoevsky

Life in the contemporary is standing against my ability to be mature all the time. Everything is a rush and hurry and then a wait and see. Yesterday, I found myself sinning far too easily. After three attempts to confirm some seats on a plane going overseas, I finally got the auto response to go almost to the point of confirming seats, after thirty minutes of frustration. I did not find it humorous that a very soothing, recorded voice was placed precisely at one point of choosing an arbitrary host of numbers, to comfort me---though I know a machine cannot really feel emotion. "I'm sorry! I didn't understand you. It must be my fault."(Can a machine be faulted for making mistakes and can it feel sorry Does it really care for my frustration???)

Finally, a real and very surly woman answered my phone call. I gave her all the right numbers for our ticket and then told her I wanted to be sure to secure seats on our overseas flight, as the seat numbers were deleted from the confirmation I had received on the Internet.

"You cannot secure seats until the morning of the flight. It is company policy that once we book our flight more than 45%, we cannot give out anymore seats. And, by the way, I am the supervisor, and there is no one higher than me that you can talk to!" (Obviously, she had had a difficult day and didn't even want to have to address the fact that there was no one higher up that I could talk to---and we had only just begun our conversation. Could there have been a hard phone call before she ever got to me?)

"I have never heard of an overseas flight where I couldn't get my seat assignment. I am traveling with three of my children and would like to sit close together," I said in my most authoritative voice.

"If your children are over 10, they can obviously sit anywhere on the plane by themselves, and I can't guarantee that they won't all be in different rows. You will just have to wait until you get to the gate. Obviously you haven't traveled very much. It is always done this way."

I raised to my full-bodied stature at this point, even though she couldn't see my shock or my rising at such a statement. After all, I had been traveling overseas for over thirty years and had never come across this particular problem or such a definitively closed airline operator.

In a very irrational and immature moment, I asked the woman, "If I call back, is there a good chance I won't have to talk to you again?!" Well, I had been on the phone a long time and she wasn't very nice to me and I did have a hard day and........

Immediately, when I had hung up the phone, remorse set in. The accusatory finger in my mind said, "Well, that was real mature! Bet you made that lady feel real good. I can't believe you are a serious, committed Christian, and you actually talked to someone like that! The Lord is so disappointed in you. Probably He is eventually going to quit using you in influencing others, because you just keep blowing it!"

I must admit, when my own life is stressful, and I have had a hard day, I want sympathy, kindness, forgiveness, grace. I want someone to understand that I am doing my best and to tell me it is ok. It is what I want from God. It is what I want from my husband. It is what I want from my children.

My heart became open to the Spirit's prompting. Just happened, my morning reading came across this verse: "So whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God."
Now this much I already knew and agreed with.

But the context of the verse was further explained, "Do not cause anyone to stumble, whether Jew or Greek or the church of God. Even as I try to please everybody in every way. For I am not seeking my own good, but the good of many in order that they may be saved." I Cor. 10: 31-32

So, I glorify God, not by knowing all the right theological answers, or by keeping a perfect house, or having quiet times every day, but by glorifying God by seeking the good of everyone else--even a stressed out operator.

My sweet children have taught me this. They see through false piety. They know what it means to be fair. They comment on other adults in our lives who speak loudly about piety but whose lives scream loudly of hypocrisy. But, they are also very willing to forgive.

Joy placed her arm around me and sat sweetly in my lap. At almost 12, it is too rare of an occurrence, but oh so cherished. "Mom, we'll get some seats. Don't you worry. It always works out." A kiss on my cheek and then she was gone. Suddenly I saw God' s glory in an unsuspecting angel in my own home, who chose to give me grace, and then I felt He, the one from whom patience and love was given their meaning had gently restored me to himself.

Go Down Dancing

Thou hast turned for me my mourning into dancing;
Thou hast loosed my sackcloth and girded me with gladness
That my soul may sing praise to Thee and not be silent.
Oh Lord my God, I will give thanks to thee forever.
Psalm 30:10-11

My sweet Father passed away 14 years ago. He was a figure bigger than life to me when I was a little girl. He was 6’3, an extrovert’s extrovert. He would often whistle, sing hum, and wiggle and dance through life. His nickname in college was “slick”. Because he had grown up as a depression child with much sadness, he lived his life as an adult with as little acknowledgement of sadness as possible. He worked hard to provide our family with the ability to enjoy life and have pleasures that his own family had not been able to afford. I didn’t get a lot of personal, one on one time with him. Very little, as a matter of fact. But there are a few, sweet memories that live in my soul as exaggerated in size because of the rarity that made them so precious.

One sparkling summer evening, when the summer roses and honey suckle wafted through the breezes of the night, I was allowed to attend an adult party with my parents. Probably a wedding or social affair of some sort. I remember dressing up in a sky-blue, polished cotton dress that was adorned with delicate eyelet lace and belted about with a satin sash. My black-patton shoes, it seemed to me, were just made for tapping or dancing on the floor where all of the jewel bedecked, rouge-faced women were swirling and laughing with their husbands. Visions of romance marched through the corridors of my girlish mind as I dreamed of a future day when I would be on the arm of my very own partner, gracefully and lightly gliding over the floor.

Suddenly, my handsome, smiling father swept over to the place where I was standing and easily picked me up into his arms. “May I have a dance with the princess of the ball?” My feet hung limply down, as He held me tight in His strong arms and easily swung my 4’8” frame round and round the dance floor. I could smell the spicy aftershave he had lightly rubbed on his face as we danced cheek to cheek, and breathed in the warm, spicy aroma. The bubbling excitement and pride that I felt at that giddy moment, being in the arms of my hero, who always appeared bigger than life, left me almost breathless. I treasured each second with delight. The smiles and admiration of the other doting adults were not lost on me. Finally, the music came to an abrupt stop. Gently, my father glided back to our dinner table in his long strides and set me lightly upon my chair.

“Thank you for the pleasure of your company, sweet princess,” he affectionately said, as he turned to find my mother.

I haven’t visited this lovely memory in many years. Yet, it is a picture to me of one of the ways I have come to view my own relationship with God---dancing through life, with deep joy and gratefulness filling the core of my being, as I am held and cherished in the arms of such a great, admired and worthy partner. He picked me and carries me and celebrates life with me, because of His love, affection and kindness.

The older I get, the more I have come to cherish with great delight the joy and beauty my creator has generously bestowed on me—not because of anything I have done to deserve it—but because His very character is life and love and giving and celebrating and redeeming and creating.

I want to live at that place in my heart where I have come to know Him as such a person. I want to respond to His love with deep, passionate, grateful appreciation. I want Him to know how deeply I am beginning to appreciate all that He made in this world that I might experience pleasure and know beauty and rest in redemption.

I have struggled to get to this place. The onslaught of darkness of an enemy who is jealous of the glory of my precious Lord relentlessly pursues me every day, seeking to destroy the wonderful picture of my Lord that I have learned to cherish in my heart. Satan would love for me to focus on that which has been tainted with the stain of selfishness and destruction of sin. He would love for me to be ravaged in my soul with the fears that a post-modern world, filled with violence, a loathing for all that is pure and lovely, brings.

Yet, he seeks to deceive me on other sides, to doubt the reality of my prince. I am surrounded by those who live in the chains of legalism, a rule for every move in life, an air of condemnation and suspicion for those who celebrate the authentic joy of life, a life of worry, fear and condemnation. These have lost the vision of their Warrior King who has layed down His own life, that they may have unending joy. Satan has deceived them into doubting and ignoring that light that is surrounding them, if they would but open their soulish eyes. These, Satan would use, to drag me down with them to the place of bitterness and harshness and oppression of soul, oppressed by my own inadequacies.

Yet, in order to continue to live beyond the oppressive blackness of the night, I must live with the ears of my soul straining the hear the music of the One who is creating, restoring and bringing life to a glory that will envelope and swallow up all darkness. I must look with the eyes of my heart for the beauty and color and design that every day shouts to me of the creator behind the luminous colors, powerful sounds, lovely words and thoughts that speak to me of His reality. I want to go down dancing---end my life, choosing every minute until its close, to celebrate the reality of His life with the fullness of faith and loyalty my king desires, living in the freedom of His gracious love, looking for the time when we will celebrate, in the final banquet, the victory He has so long ago preordained.

“Praise the Lord! Sing a new song, And His praise in the congregation of the godly ones. Let Israel be glad in His Maker;
Let the sons of Zion rejoice in their King.
Let them praise His name with dancing;
Let them sing praises to Him with timbrel and lyre.
For the Lord takes pleasure in His people; He will beautify the afflicted ones with salvation. Let the godly ones exult in glory;
Let them sing with joy on their bed.
This is an honor for all His godly ones.
Praise the Lord. Hallelujah!
Psalm 149

Dreaming in Asheville

I think Asheville is the perfect place to begin a blog on dancing through life. It's a place of beauty, of music and good food nestled in the heart of the mountains. It reminds me of how I want to live. So come along for the ride as I dance through this life and share the beauty I find.