Imagine If....

Before I jump into the "Imagine If" part, let me give you some background that will help you understand. Here's my two-fold, real-life circumstance:

1)  I have Parkinson's Disease; incurable and degenerative.
2)  My brother was severely injured last week in a racing accident when his car caught fire. He remains in a burn unit fighting his way through 3rd degree burns on his face and body. He makes his living on television, so it's important that he heals without scarring so he can provide for his family.

IMAGINE IF:

My brother and I were greeted by an unknown benefactor. The man stretched out two hands, each holding a precious gift. We would be given one of those gift, no repayment expected, no strings attached. But we could only choose one. Together, we had to decide which gift we would receive.

In his right hand, we found the cure for Parkinson's -- immediate, fail-safe, easy, no side effects. What I always dreamed of, but never thought possible. My life given back to me.

His left hand offered perfect healing for my brother. No pain, no long rehab, no scarring, no emotional trauma. Just as if it had never happened.

One blink, a quick swallow, and the decision would be made. I would chose the left hand with healing for my brother. And my brother would let me choose it.

Then, he would take his gift and provide for his family first.  After that, he would spend the rest of his life using his gift to work himself to death, giving all his money to me, so I could pursue treatment for my disease at whatever cost, or on whatever continent it should come.

Because that's what love does.

To help defray my brother's medical costs, go to:
https://www.gofundme.com/9tvup97k

#RaceDad
#CoxStrong

Everybody's Got it; Nobody Wants it...

Elementary school kids have it before a test, or on the first day of school, or during gym class. Sometimes they even have it on the playground.

Teachers and bankers have it. Firemen, accountants, pastors, and taxi drivers have it. Teenagers have it every waking moment of the day. Sometimes they give it to other people.

This morning, I called my 97-year-old Grandma in the nursing home, and even she had it! She answered the phone complaining that the big overhead light was on and she couldn't reach it to turn it off. She also said her roommate had been calling out for somebody to help her all morning, making it hard to hear the TV or talk on the phone. About that time, I could tell Grandma's attention had been diverted, and I heard her say, "No, turn around and go back out -- this is not your apartment. Go on, turn around and leave, you don't belong in here." Then, to me again, "Oh, Dory, hold on -- I have to get his wheelchair. He's in the wrong room." In the background, I could hear her roommate whining in a loud monotone, "He's a nice man, leave him alone. Why don't you let him be? He's a nice man. Why don't you let him alone?" Poor Grandma. I called the front desk and asked them to help her.

Stress. Everybody's got it. Nobody wants it. Few of us deal well with it.

Okay, time out...I've been writing this post for 3 days now, and I got stuck right here because I simply didn't know where to go next. This morning, I know, so here it is:

Stress. Everybody's got it. Nobody wants it. Few of us deal well with it. It makes some of us sick in our bodies, and it makes all of us sick in our spirits. God didn't intend for us to live under the continual stress we daily invite into our lives.

Considering this blog for the umpteenth time this week, God brought a passage to my heart this morning: I Peter 5:7, "Casting all your cares upon Him, for He cares for you." God's recipe for handling stress has never changed because it's a good one, just the way it's written. Just like you don't go changing your grandma's secret chocolate cake recipe, you don't go changing God's super not-so-secret recipe for stress-busting. You follow the recipe and give your cares to Him.

How do you do that? How do you physically give something intangible, like stress, to someone intangible, like God?

It starts with being willing to relinquish control. The root of my stress is that I have to control everything and get it done in a certain amount of time. If I let go control, then how will it ever get done? That's for God to take care of -- remember, we are putting all our burdens on Him, relinquishing control to Him, trusting Him.

And why would we do that? Why would we trust Him? Why would we have confidence that He will handle it for us every single time? And why would would He want to do that for us?

Because, as the second part of the verse says, "He cares for you." Doesn't that say it all? What wouldn't you do for someone you care for? And if you knew someone truly cared for you, wouldn't that make it easier to trust them?

So, close your eyes for a minute. Hold your hands out in front of you, as if you are giving something to someone. Create a mental picture that represents your stresses, then put the stresses in your outstretched hands. Imagine God taking your stresses out of your hands, then hugging you gently and sending you out into your day, like a parent seeing her child off to school.

Take a deep breath now, and enter your day stress-free, giving thanks as you go.

I Peter 5:7, "Casting all your cares upon Him, for He cares for you."

Missing My Parents

My mom and dad are gone somewhere on a trip for a long time. That's what they do. And right now I'm missing them.

My parents live in their motor home full-time; they don't have another home. Most of the time they park their motor home in a camping spot at a campground about 50 minutes away from my house. My dad cuts grass in the summer and takes pictures for the campground (See his pictures at http://nelsonskinner.com -- he's pretty good!), and generally makes himself known as an endearing combination of a big 6-foot teddy bear and a beloved nuisance. Everybody in the campground knows him.

My dad is sociable enough for two people, and it's a good thing he is, because my mother doesn't get out much. She's sociable in her own way, which is primarily online, but she doesn't do a lot of face-to-face visiting. She keeps busy being the CEO of an online not-for-profit writing school, Creative Writing Institute (learn more at http://www.creativewritinginstitute.com -- she's pretty good, too!) She also loves helping people, so as a result, she counsels about half the world's troubled youth in online conversations. Only heaven knows how many people she's touched over the years, and what a difference she may have made.

These two opposites have found a way to survive each other in a 38-foot motor home for approximately 15 years. One of the things they do have in common, however, is a wanderlust for change.

Growing up, I lived in five different houses (that I remember), and attended 5 different schools. We took extensive family vacations every year, and I saw the 48 contiguous states, Mexico, and much of Canada before I graduated college. We ministered in, or helped start at least four churches, and my dad worked at least five jobs I can recall. The constant in my life was change.

So now, when my parents get tired of the scenery, they just change it. They unhook the water and sewer, anchor everything inside the motor home, pack up the cat, hook the Jeep on the back and go. Somewhere. For a while. Then they come back.

Right now they're gone, and have been since the end of December. I think they're in Texas or New Mexico, maybe, and I think they might not be back until March sometime. That's what they do.

Today I saw the back of a man getting into his SUV at the bank. He was a big 6-foot tall guy with gray hair, and for one second, I thought it was my dad. It wasn't, but it sure made me miss him, and I've been thinking of him ever since.

I'm so blessed to still have my  parents, and so grateful for all I learned from them, and for the irreplaceable education I received traveling throughout the US with them. I'm grateful they taught me ministry, giving, a good work ethic, how to think for myself, how to shoot a gun, how to stretch a meal, how to clean and fry a squirrel, and how to have fun as a family. I'm thankful they are still teaching me and setting examples for me.

Mostly, though, tonight I just miss them. A lot.

Hurry home, Mom and Dad. Safe travels. I love you.

 Left:  The Big Teddy Bear               Middle:  My Sweet Mom               Right:  My Parents' House

Bridging the Gap

Middle-aged women should not get color-change nail color.

I mean, I knew it was color-change when I got it, but I didn't know the tips of my fingernails would turn black every time my hands get cold. The nail tech told me, but somehow my brain failed to compute what that actually meant. I needed a 20-year-old interpreter to make me understand.

I find that to be true of many things. When I'm in the checkout lane at Kohl's and I can't get my electronic coupon to open on my phone, I start looking for the nearest person under 30. I hand my phone to them, and in less than 20 seconds I have a useable coupon.

Selfies...another of those things. My friend's daughter said no one over 30 should be taking and posting selfies. My personal experience validates that theory. I don't take them and, if I did, I certainly wouldn't post them. They're downright scary!

And Facebook...is there a secret club somewhere that only admits people under the age of 30? A club that tells you important information like no one really uses the old Messenger any more, exactly what you're supposed to do when someone pokes you, and what it means when someone sends something to your inbox?

When did I get so far behind? Presumably sometime after age 30!

That's okay. I'm in my own secret club now. The one that knows from experience how to deal with relationship problems and boy problems. The one that knows how to behave in social situations; what to wear, what to say, and which fork to use for salad. I own a ticket to the club that enables me to enjoy being at home, to understand the value of money, and to appreciate the beauty of old friendships (even though I might use Facebook to maintain them). My ticket says, "Bearer entitled to feel comfortable in her own skin." That means if my prospective employer doesn't like the real me in a job interview, that's okay. The job apparently wasn't meant for me. If I go somewhere and I'm uncomfortable, I can get up and leave.

Surprisingly enough, the under-30's must occasionally look longingly through the windows of my club. When they have a relationship problem, or they don't know if to pursue another job, they end up in my office, door closed, tears streaming, looking for something I have that they don't...experiential advice. And that makes it all worthwhile. It takes all of us helping each other, doesn't it?

Diversity. It makes the world go round. Don't despair. We all have a place.

The key is to be happy in yours.

Diary of the Blood Moon September 27, 2015

I wrote this in September for a friend whose momentary affliction prevented him from seeing what we all were able to witness on the night of the blood moon. I wrote this piece in a descriptive manner so that someone without physical sight could imagine and develop mental pictures of the scenes that unfolded that night.

The first time I saw the moon Sunday night was about 9:00 PM, and I forgot it was going to be a blood moon. I was working at my kitchen sink, which faces east, and when I looked out the window over my sink, The moon’s bright light was shining through the tree limbs in front of my window. I couldn’t see the moon’s outline because it was obscured by the trees -- I could only see its brilliant, clear, white light shining through the foliage.

The moon that night started in the eastern sky and moved to the southern horizon. It wasn’t long before it came out of its hiding spot behind the trees, and paraded itself out in the open sky for us. The next time I looked out the kitchen window, I could see the whole beautiful full white moon. It loomed so large on the horizon, and it gave off such a pure, bright, white light, that I called Mike in to come look at it. All the round edges of the moon were visible and crisp against the inky black sky, and there were no clouds to obscure its beauty.

The next time I looked at the moon, it was around 9:25 PM when my mom texted me to tell me about the lunar eclipse. Mike and I went outside to watch it. The sky was still clear and black like velvet, and the stars looked like thousands of tiny twinkling diamonds spread out across a black backdrop. The moon was still white, but it looked smaller now, and it was still suspended in the southeastern sky. As I watched the moon, I started to see a bluish aura along the left side of it, but maybe it was just my contact lenses because Mike couldn’t see it!

Soon after that, the real excitement began! It wasn’t long before  we saw a dark shadow starting to creep across the moon from its left side. It seemed to happen slowly and quickly all at once. You couldn’t actually see the movement of the intruding shadow, but when we went inside for ten minutes, then went back outside to look, the difference was dramatic. i do remember initially being a little disappointed by the fact that the shadow wasn’t red. As it turns out, I just hadn’t waited long enough!

The gray-brown shadow kept growing slowly across the moon. All the while, God kept the clouds away so everyone could see His glory, the majesty of His creation, and His power over  the earth and heavens. The winds and the waves, and the sun and the moon obey Him even today.

I suppose the shadow must have been about halfway across the left side of the moon when all at once I saw it! The shadow was taking on a decidedly red cast! Now THIS was more what I had been expecting!

It was such an interesting effect! The far left side of the moon was a dark, deep gray color that gradually bled into a smoky reddish-orange toward the middle of the moon. All the while, the bottom right corner formed a crescent of bright white. I’m not sure the thin little crescent ever got swallowed  up in the eclipse.

I tried to take a picture with the camera on my phone, which is a very good camera-- for a phone. I had to enlarge the picture by 20% to make the moon big enough to see. When I did, my camera picked up red cloudy-looking splotches all around the sky that I could not see with my naked eye. I’m not sure what that was, but it was dramatic and mysterious.

The left side of the moon just kept getting darker and darker until we could no longer decipher where the moon stopped and the sky started. It blended from black on the left into a black-red blood color in the middle, until finally all but the tiny crescent on the right was eclipsed. That must have been around 9:30. We came inside for about ten minutes, and when I went outside next, I saw something amazing. The moon was completely gone!

In those ten minutes while I was inside, white cottony clouds had moved in, stretched thinly across the sky, beautifully and evenly, with pieces of dark sky still showing in between them. I’m not sure if the eclipse hid the moon, or if the clouds obscured it, but the it was gone and I couldn’t find it anywhere.

A symphony of white clouds painted over the velvety black sky looked at once amazing and odd. Odd because I’d never seen it look like that before. Amazing for the same reason. The clouds stayed white in spite of the black sky, and that’s what I think was so intriguing. The best illustration I can think of to describe how the sky looked right then is if you could imagine a cotton Halloween spiderweb laid evenly over a plush piece of black velvet. That’s what the sky looked like where I live. The clouds were evenly distributed and the moon and all the millions of points of starlight were gone.

The eclipse was supposed to be finished by 10:51 PM, but the moon never showed itself again. That’s okay because we got to see most of it.

It was a night that made me feel like the Lord could have come back right that very moment. It was beautiful and supernatural and a little scary, too. A perfect night for His return. I halfway expected to be raptured right then and there. If that had happened, I wouldn’t have Parkinson’s now. Until then, we’ll stay rooted and grounded, right?!

Surrender

I was mad. I was confused. I was terrified.

I had a perfectly good job, and I wasn’t looking for another one. I thought I would retire from the company I was with; that my co-workers and I would grow old together.

Then along came a recruiter named Mike.

I told the Lord if He wanted me to take this new job, then He needed to make the whole experience like a train barreling down the track, picking up speed as it went. So He did. My 20-minute phone interview turned into an hour, and my prospective new manager drove 3 hours to interview me. The interview went so well that it scared me. Everything I asked for was promised or considered. Even my recruiter was surprised at how well we were hitting it off.

Meantime, my heart was grieving for the job I knew I was going to have to leave. My soul was angry at the Parkinson’s Disease that made me less than confident in my ability to perform in a new environment. My spirit wanted human ears to listen to me and human wisdom to guide me in my decision.

I came home from work needy and longing for my husband’s input and approval. Instead, other pressing matters occupied his mind and I felt shut out. My anger simmered, my grief spilled over, and my spirit’s longing could not be satiated, so I threw myself into the chore of picking up clothing in the bedroom, while my husband cleaned up dinner dishes.

Since no one else would listen, I started talking to the Lord, not really expecting an answer.

“God, I’m mad at everything and everyone.” I slammed the closet door back, looking for hangers.

“Child, who or what makes you most angry?” I couldn’t actually hear His voice, but no human sound could have been clearer. It was Him, and there was no doubt.

“Parkinson’s Disease. I’m mad at Parkinson’s because it stole my self-confidence. I don’t even know if I could still do this job, even if I got hired for it.” I threw a dirty shirt on the floor as tears seeped from the corners of my eyes.

“It’s not up to you to do this job. I brought you the job, and I will make sure you can do it through my power,” He said.

“Okay,” I said aloud, as the tears ran faster. “OKAY,” I shouted it this time. “OKAY!” I was still mad.

“God, I don’t want to leave my old company. I’m mad at them because they won’t do something to keep me there. Did you hear me? I don’t want to leave!” I yanked the covers up on the bed harder than I should have.

“I want you to leave.”

“OKAY,” and now I was sobbing, “I’ll go. OKAY!”

“I don’t want you to go kicking and screaming. I want you to go willingly.”

“Okay. But, God, I don’t know where this new job will take me; I don’t know anyone there.”

“Child, Abraham didn’t know where he was going either. What if he hadn’t gone?”

“OKAY,” I grabbed a pair of dress pants and another hanger. My coordination was less than stellar, and I couldn’t get the dress pants to hang properly. My sobs were coming in gasps now, and I threw myself on the bed in a fit, “God, I have Parkinson’s and I can’t even hang up my pants right. If I can’t hang up my pants, how am I ever going to do this job?”

“Moses couldn’t speak well, but he addressed a king, and led a whole nation of people out of slavery.”

“Okay…”

For a brief moment, I wondered if Moses cried when God asked him to speak in front of a king and address a nation. He probably wanted to cry, if he didn’t.

“God, no one will listen to me, and tell me what to do.” I slowly got up off the bed, still gasping for air in between sobs.

“I’m listening. And you know what to do.”

“Okay…” a little more quietly this time, “Okay.”

“Be still now. Can you feel my arms around you? Remember the song on the radio, ‘Your life’s not falling apart, it’s falling into place...stop holding on and just be held.’’

“Okay.”

“God, what if I already blew it today when I talked to them on the phone? I didn’t care so much then. If you’ll make them still want me, I’ll go. I promise I’ll go.” And tears of sorrow started again as I picked up a pair of shoes to put away.

“Child, are you listening to yourself? You didn’t go out and get this job, I brought it to you. You can’t do anything to lose this job unless I make it so. I’m in control, not you.”

“Okay.” I reached for a tissue. “Okay. I’m going. Okay, God. And I’m not mad anymore.”

“Okay, Child. It’s okay. Shhh, shhh.. it’s okay.”

Surrender. It’s exhausting.

Lyrics to “Just Be Held” by Casting Crowns

Hold it all together

Everybody needs you strong

But life hits you out of nowhere

And barely leaves you holding on

And when you're tired of fighting

Chained by your control

There's freedom in surrender

Lay it down and let it go

So when you're on your knees and answers seem so far away

You're not alone, stop holding on and just be held

Your world’s not falling apart, it’s falling into place

I'm on the throne, stop holding on and just be held

Just be held, just be held

If your eyes are on the storm

You'll wonder if I love you still

But if your eyes are on the cross

You'll know I always have and I always will

And not a tear is wasted

In time, you'll understand

I'm painting beauty with the ashes

Your life is in My hands

Lift your hands, lift your eyes

In the storm is where you'll find Me

And where you are, I'll hold your heart

I'll hold your heart

Come to Me, find your rest

In the arms of the God who won’t let go.