Brick by Brick: Rebuilding the Broken

Sometimes fear doesn't come quietly.  Sometimes it comes crashing in like a rabid animal.  No rational thought to it. Just the weight of angry sadness, caught in a corner.  Fear, anxiety, grief, and anger. They are all so debilitating.   You are probably familiar with the oft quoted definitions of fear: You are possibly also familiar with the statement  - "Fear Not appears 365 times in the Bible,"  when actually the phrase occurs about 100 times. (Some people may be disillusioned finding out there actually isn't an adorable "every day of the year reminder" not to be afraid.) However, I am not disappointed, because just like my son, Nathanael, used to answer when I couldn't hear him the first time - " I already said it once. Why should I have to repeat myself?"  If Jesus said - "Fear Not" once, shouldn't that be good enough for us? But I am human after all, and I for one, need a daily

There are many catch phrases that come to mind, when I hear  "we're not done yet." But the one I keep replaying in my head, comes from the words of Jesus when He was preparing his disciples for the coming days. He knew He was going to die. He knew He was leaving them behind. He knew they would be lost, angry, confused and scared. He knew they would think it was all for naught. He knew they wouldn't know what to do next, or what their life was going to look like now. He knew they would think the good life was over.  Even though they couldn't understand yet, He began preparing them. He told them many things, in story form, in parables. He assured them He would give them peace, not like the world sees peace - as a ceasefire - but true peace. Down deep in the depths, unexplainable calm, peace. The disciples would need that peace in the days to come. Because it wasn't over. They thought they had it all figured out! They had a pret

Every life has a story. Your story will look much different than mine. Your story is unique as you are. You may not think it is that important, but to those who know you - it means the world. Meeting a new friend, reading another book, listening to the next song, or watching one more movie; those stories would be boring if they all turned out the same. Aren't you so glad we aren't all alike? As adults, we lost that innocent age of early childhood, when we would interact with whoever was nearby. As we grew older, we gravitated towards those who are more like us, because we would do the same things together. Then as we continued to mature, we had to relearn how to be kind and polite to everyone. It's too bad we adults have trouble maintaining that attitude once we leave the work place; as if we pack away "that customer smile and patience" when clocking out for the evening. But that's a story for another time. Or maybe not.

Most children love to hear the Sunday School stories like Daniel in the lion's den, or the Hebrews being guided across the dry land surrounded by walls of water, or many other miracles God showed the people long ago. But as a child, I didn't distinguish between what God had accomplished in the Old Testament, and the miracles that Jesus did wherever he traveled. I am not even sure if I understood that God and Jesus were doing the same thing in people's lives. I didn't realize He is in the remodeling business. (Do you think it is a coincidence that Jesus was a carpenter's son?) God takes the broken and tired, the weak,  the helpless and the hopeless, and creates something new. So it goes without saying, that I carried the misconception for years, of how God really can work in people, still today.  Take the story of the three young men and the fiery furnace. Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego were displaced from their own country and forced to serve

Where we live, it is necessary to pack a survival gear kit in the trunk of our vehicles before the winter storms hit.  It is much better to have a coat, hat, gloves, food and  flashlight batteries that never get used; than the alternative of freezing in a blizzard, stuck in the ditch and no one can get to you for hours.  Planning ahead for the unexpected has been the way of life just because of who I am.  Now that grief, and chronic pain, have become the norm I had to find different ways to cope.  I have to plan ahead, just to plan ahead.  During the first year of holidays without our son,  the raw pain was so fresh,  we were all achingly empty, and mostly still numb.  Nothing mattered at all.  We didn't plan anything.  We couldn't.  We just kept busy.  By the next season of required merriment, I was beside myself.  What do we do?  How can we celebrate anything ever again?  I had read somewhere, it is better to have a plan,