The death of Billy Graham has got me to thinking.  In every clip, newsreel, video montage, newly recorded song in ode to this Evangelist, it is apparent what the mission ... the life's call ... of this man was:  to make Jesus known.

Presidents, politicians, freedom fighters, communists, actors, Larry King ... they all listened to this humble man with his controversial message.  Why?  Was it because it was consistent?  Was it because he was a man of integrity?  Was it because he had a great accent?  Why?

As I survey the modern religious movement, at least from my perspective, there are messages of Grace, Hope, Love, and how to live above the fray of "this life".  These are good - great - messages.  There are songs that elevate the name of Jesus led by modern humans.  Great.  I am moved and can enter into worship through their very gifted voices and lyrics.  There are cool pastors, trendy churches, and new approaches to doing the Christian life that excels and touches lives.  I'm not knocking any of this ... hooray!  However, I get the sinking feeling that all of this ... all of it ... sometimes walks a fine line in trying too hard to be too inclusive, nonjudgemental and relative to those who reject the basic tenement of faith that we miss the message of Jesus.

Have we settled on a message that elevates us (the messenger) and not the message?  I think that's the appeal, the effectiveness, the draw to Mr. Graham.  The man was secondary, the message primary.

My life's work is to help others know Jesus.  I do this through mothering, through mentoring, through writing, through my life.  It's caused me to examine with a close eye - not a critical eye - the clarity of which I am communicating Jesus.  How often do I strive to be relevant over truthful?  How many times do I shrink back from a conversation that upholds an absolute truth in favor of a more tolerant approach?  Just things to think about as I examine what might be said of me at the end of this life.  I want more people to know Jesus because of this voice and not more people to know Christina.

Thank you, Billy Graham, for a life about Jesus,
Christina

I love words.  When reading a book (a real one with real pages) I love to underline certain words or phrases that cause electric-like tingles in my being that deeply resonate feelings inside me.  Words.  They have power.

When I read words, I often remember where I was, what I was doing and the circumstances surrounding their impact on me.  This morning, as I unwrapped my hands from my coffee cup and opened my Bible, I found these precious words:

Show me your unfailing love in wonderful ways.
I am praying to you because I know you will answer, O God.

These words happen to be found in Psalm 17.  Sometimes, on the weekends, when I want to change up my life and hear from God in a different way from what I normally read, I read the corresponding day found in the Psalm.  For example, today is May 17 ... so I read Psalm 17.  Make sense?

Psalm 17 has been read on the 17th day of any given month for a very long time.  One "17th" day of one month, I remember sitting in Starbucks, in Vienna, with a grande vanilla latte and being pricked to my soul with these words.  At the time, I remember fighting back tears.

The tears were a result of feeling overwhelmed that God would speak to me - through alphabet letters that formed words - and emote that He desired to show me the "wonderful ways" in which He loved me.  His demonstration of wonderful started by the place I found myself:  a cozy cafe with a warm cup of my beverage of choice.  Perfect moment.  Perfect way to show me.  At that moment in time, I needed to feel loved.  I know I am loved - He demonstrated that over 2,000 years ago by allowing His Son to hang on a tree.  However, because I am girl and girl means operating out of emotion - most of the time - I need to "feel" loved.

A cafe, a cup of Java and words = feeling loved.

Discovering more wonderful ways,
christina

I love a good pep talk!  It's the stuff of what great movies are made:  A discouraged central character ready to give up.  A secondary figure with some inspirational speech that sets the central character into action is spoken.  What seemed impossible - possible.  What seemed hopeless - full of hope.  The information that was received is put into action by landing in a place in the heart of the hearer that brings change and SHAZAMM!!!  ... everything is different.

So why don't I see that in the lives of today's Christians ... or even myself?  (Long pause for pondering.)

I've asked God to show me what "living the christian life" is supposed to look like.  Over the years of following Jesus, I've discovered some fantastic things that have made my life radically different.  However, at times it feels like I've been a water hose ... a common, ordinary, garden hose.  When the faucet is turned to the maximum capacity and the rush of water forces its way through my silicone covering ... I have power.  I don't resist the flow.  It comes.  I receive.  Then, there are the kinks.  You know what I'm talking about ... the "v" shaped kinks in the line that are sometimes not noticed until I'm standing there wondering where all the water is!

Because I am an American, have lived in the Bible belt, have been part of a denomination, have read certain books, have omitted certain things, and carried my cross ... I have beliefs.  My beliefs drive me into action.  At the age of 45 and walking with Jesus for nearly 26 years, it's time to read my Bible with new eyes.  When Jesus says pray ... I should pray.  When Jesus says ... "You are blessed when you do this ..." ... I should desire to do that.  Those are not the issues I struggle with.

Recently, a wise man told my Chris that living the christian life should be a little like feeding a horse salty oats. The salt makes the horse want to come back for more.  Oooooooowwwwww I like that.  But then I stop to take in what that means.  More of what?

That's what I'm on a quest for ... more of ... God ... more of ... Jesus ... more of ... the Holy Spirit.  If God is all three then I want to know more of all three!  I'm digging but most of all I'm listening.  As I journey, I will share - I can't help but share.

For now, I feel like I'm on a new adventure, pick in hand, ready to find new treasures!!!

Treasure hunting,
christina

I baked pumpkin bread, cookies, and to calm the heart of my friend, Andrea, tried my hand at fudge!  I wanted this grown up girl to have a memory of walking into the front door for the first time and seeing, smelling, tasting "Christmas".  It worked.

She noticed the paper decorations I made, the stockings hung - the creative attempts to make something out of nothing.

She looks older.  Hugs me more often.  Brings her own coffee.  Wants to cook.  Has an agenda.  Notices new things.  Laughs at me.  And I ... well ... I. take. it. all. in.

I wonder what Mary, as in Mary the Mother of Christ, experienced as she watched her son.  This baby who slid down her birth canal, stole her heart, bore titles and changed her life forever was just ... her son.  Did she whip up traditional things to celebrate Jewish holidays that he went crazy about?  Did he hate mushrooms?  Did he hug her during his teenage years?  Did he laugh at her?  The Book doesn't say.  What it does say is that "Mary kept all these things in her heart and thought about them often."  When the Shepherds made a surprise entrance.  When Kings brought expensive gifts.  When prophets knew her sons identify.  Throughout this unusual lifetime, she thought about these things ... often.

Mary, this one chosen to carry out a most unusual but planned task by God, Creator, was first and foremost a Momma.  Some things were just too precious for words and had to be dealt with in the mystery of her inner self.

She's home.  I am keeping all of these things in my heart.

Big smile on my face,
christina

I'm an not a follower of all things political.  I am astute enough to realize our country is in dire straights.  I'm a simpleton and it all comes down to math for me.  But then again, like I said, I'm not a follower of things political.

As newscasts repeat banter of both parties, run broken promises of campaign speeches, and glibly share their professional opinions, let's take a break, shall we?  Let's put things on pause.  Let's take a breather.  Let's settle down and gain some perspective.

I've recently come to learn a lesson that I should have learned a long time ago.  I haven't.  I'm on a journey.  The lesson is simply this:  I have no hope in anything this life has to offer.  And - if that be true, what I am going to do about it?  How will I step through this life?

My hope can not be built on a good man, well behaved and successful children, accomplishments that I can frame and hang on my wall or brag about on a blog post.  Loosing weight, finding a better moisturizer, good deal, new friend or $20 will never be what I need for lasting change.  Infomercials only work during the allotted time slot, self-help programs only work if I'm willing to work, and one size never, ever fits all.  I shouldn't get used to the pumpkin spice lattes because they are only available during one season.  I should not sell all of my furniture and trade it for trendy animal prints that will go out of style before the current ones are being marked down.  And I certainly should not apply for the credit card that is supposed to rack up sky miles because it takes 47,000 million points just to get a one-way ticket to Dallas!

Sound dramatic?

My point is this:  I have no hope in anything ... other ... than a loving God in an unloving world.  I know this sounds so Sunday school and Liturgical and possibly even religious.  However, at the end of the day, after years of buying into all other "hopes" ... my hope ... alone ... is in Jesus.

My man may not always be good, my children misbehave, and accomplishments are exaggerated.  Loosing weight is a loosing battle, moisturizer, good deals, new friends and $20 can't be found on a regular basis.  Infomercials ... enough said.  Self-help makes me tired.  One-size fits all now says ... in a very hateful attitude ... one-size fits most!  Pumpkin spice latte's only put on weight.  My furniture has no animal spots.  I only have 123 sky mile points.  What's a girl to do?

Nothing.  Doing is too much effort.  I can do nothing that will muster, bring, usher or produce hope.  Hope is in the person of Jesus.

When all things crumble ... even a political system ... Jesus is there.  I know this because I've lived it.

Discovering hope ... still,
Christina

I loathe trends.  Trends in fashion (sorry girls ... skinny jeans are made for skinny girls with no fat on any part of their body and should never, ever be worn by anyone who is larger than ... a twig ... a very skinny twig.)  Trends in music (just give classic James Taylor and no one gets hurt!)  Trends in religion (don't get me started ... too much to say so I won't say anything.)  Trends in speaking patterns (valley girl, blonde jokes, just sayin', bad, the bomb, totally ... let's just speak the King's English!).

I mostly abhor trends in making new years resolutions.  I'm sorry.  It just gets on my nerves!  It's already a step-back to say on January 1 that your past year came up short in one area ... weight loss ... reading ... goal setting ... relationships ... letter writing ... too much of this ... not enough of that ... agh!  I am all for stepping up your game, improving that which is inadequate, doing your best ... yadda, yadda, yadda.  However, let's not set ourselves up for failure!

Now, after saying all that ... let me say this.  I love a new start.  Every January 1, I buy myself a new journal. I usually accompany that journal with a new pen.  It's a natural time to start something new.  I love expecting that as of January 1 ... I am charting a new path, gaining new marching orders, living some sort of new dream that has been established just for me - exclusively.

This morning under grey skies and a nip in the air because I'm too lazy to turn on the room heater and weird enough to love the bite that comes with the cold ... I'm writing in my new journal.  I'm starting the year off by writing a letter ... to God.  I've learned that when I write, I consciously try to write as if I know no one will ever read what has been written on these sacred pages ... ever ... and I can say (write) whatever comes to mind ... however daunting, shocking, loving, honest and real.  This activity alone has probably saved me thousands of dollars in counseling and medication!  It's not self help.  It's not unhealthy dependence on some unknown force.  It's not putting hope in some activity that will bring a state of well-being.  It's my relationship with a real person ... who just happens to be ... God.

I've been reading the Bible all my life.  However, when I was 20 years old, something happened to me. I had an encounter with this God that seemed like a fictional character and something only others could identify with.  It was after this encounter that something alive happened.  When I picked up the Bible, I saw new things.  Not trends.  New principles.  New ways of living.  New ideas that went against culture.  New mindsets.  It set my life on fire ... a fire that now 24 years later still burns within me.

This morning ... I believe that what I am reading in the Bible ... these radical concepts:  love your enemies ... don't judge others ... don't condemn others ... forgive others ... will continue to do a new thing in my life ... even after all these years.  A relationship with God ... begins, everyday ... new.  I am always in a position of a student.  I am always amazed at the refreshing of a holy God loving me and realigning my attitude to be one that mirrors His.

Now, if you are a trend-setter ... a new year's resolution kind of person ... please be blessed and don't hold a grudge against me!  You go on with your trend-setting self ... and your resolutions ... and may you fit into those skinny jeans and work it!  However, I am gonna stick to my routine that sometimes rocks my world, brings me to my knees or elevates me to the heavens.  I'm gonna continue to discover and rediscover this one I'm in a relationship with for the long haul ... and see new things through His eyes.  It's an adventure.  It's a challenge.  It's a time commitment.  It's ... a journey that will occupy most of my waking hours all throughout this new year.

Yesterday, I went with Libby's class to the Rathaus Christkindlmarkt.  If you are not a resident of my fair city, then let me explain the Rathaus Christkindlmarkt!  The Rathaus is a building in Vienna which serves as the seat both of the mayor and city council of the city of Vienna ... and ... it's really, really pretty!  Every year at Christmas, the exterior becomes a giant Christmas village where you can stroll around looking through the stalls that are selling everything from Punch to Toys to Soaps to Ornaments.  All the while, inside they turn the interior halls into a Christkindl Werkstatt (Kids Craft Center)!  School-aged children come in by the herds, paying a small fee in return for a great craft to take home.  Taking part in this Werkstatt has become a regular tradition and one we look forward to each year.  



Libby signed up to make a bird house, one that will proudly take it's place atop our Christmas tree.  Each little Werkstatt (workstation) has little helpers that very orderly and stoically "help" the children with their craft.  While the children are "crafting" their little hearts out, parents can meander over to the little cafe for overpriced coffee ... but well-worth the experience!  In the air hangs the sweet smell of cookies baking ... another Werkstatt that children can choose to take part in.  Visitors can also buy the cookie creations ... that are only sold during this time of year.
Yesterday, I was a parent-helper.  Not knowing all the children in Libby's class, one of her precious little friends kept giving me "the eye".  After assessing the situation, believing me to be a friendly adult, she says to me:  "You look like Libby ... only bigger.  I think I'll call you Big Libby."

I love her little perspective.  It never dawned on her that Libby in fact does look like me ... not I who look like her.  It was just a matter of perspective.  She didn't know me.  She knows Libby.  If she knows Libby, then from her perspective, it is, indeed, I that look like the one she knows.

This morning, as I'm thinking about Christmas ... I am wondering who others see.  My prayer is that just as precious friend of Libby's saw Libby in me ... that others will see Jesus in me, too.  Just a little something to ponder.