Porch times...

The porch at my mother and father's house has for years been a place of comfort, solace, support. Words are said, embraced, untangled and left honest and open for our loved one's discretion. We laugh so hard and learn so much. We love so hard and our loyalty knows no boundaries here. The breeze whips through the trees and makes them whisper secrets of their own. Sticks crack in the woods and we know we're not alone there in the dark with our solitary porch light shining much more than just on our flesh, but down on our souls. All is exposed here. There are no secrets, there are no pasts that we don't know about. This tie that bonds grows stronger as each evening passes that we sit in the plastic chairs painted red and remember our old times and talk about our new times. Words leave our lips and find ears willing to listen, console, help. I always leave a piece of my heart there on that porch when I leave. Its never a scheduled activity, youll never find it on my planner. But, these times are worth it all. In the daytime hours we slap mosquitoes, watch kids run around in the yard growing before our very eyes, and smell hotdogs cooking on the grille. We wipe sweat from our brows and sometimes a bottle of water is poured on a poor unsuspecting soul. We love this. We love our family. In the nighttime hours, we drink coffee, smell the fresh air and exhale knowing we're blessed. We're blessed with this family, with these friends. We're blessed to know these good times, to call them our own. Every time the chairs are pulled out and the crickets chirp we all know summer has come and the porch times have started again. The treefrog lurches towards his moth dinner and the kids sit amazed, and sometimes the adults also. Its simple times, its the best of times. Its a gift thats always there year after year and welcomes back another summer of ninety degree weather, sweat, and smiles. I think we're all better for being a part of this, a club with no name, a family thats bound.

Significance

There are millions of people in this world. Millions, wait, billions. Trillions? Bazillions? I'm not sure the exact figure and honestly, when I finally figured out the actual figure it would've already changed, again. So, lets just go with there are a whole heck of a lot of people in this world.

You're welcome for that. You didn't even know, huh?

Point being, I read the obituaries the other day. I don't do this often because it makes me quite sad and mortal feeling. I think about death and losing my pyramid of family that holds me up. Death makes me uncomfortable and probably rightly so. I haven't experienced it lately, in a hit-home-hard sort of way. The last time I had death strike me was in high school and I've tied that memory up in such a way that even a Boy Scout couldn't untangle it. I feel like since I haven't experienced it lately, that its my turn to? I guess that sounds odd, because that's not how God works and in my heart of hearts I know this. But still, it looms in the back of my mind.

Back to the obituary reading...

I was reading because on Monday of this week I experienced death. I was bustling on my way to work. Loaded up the kid, piled in the car, we were late. (when are we not late, really?) It was about ten til 8 in the morning and I drive like a grandma on a normal basis. I was going fifty in a fifty-five in the fast lane (don't you hate people like me doing that?). People were annoyed, and proceeded to get in the slow lane to pass me. That's alright. I'm not mad about that. I looked down at my speedometer and thought maybe that wasn't ok and decided I needed to get over. Then it happened...
On this four lane (it had a turning lane also, does that make it a five lane?) highway, my eyes locked on a car in the lane parallel to mine. Silver car hit its brakes, and red car was speeding towards it...red car never saw the brakes. And then the collision. The red car crumpled like a soda can being stepped on. The impact pushed the silver car into my lane and there I was, looking at an over-sized speeding bullet barreling into my lane. I remember yelling "No, no, no!" My brakes screamed and I went into the turn lane. God's hands were on my wheel. How do I know this, you ask? Because I've never been good at defensive driving. My response time is about 2 minutes, and as we all know that isn't the time that's allotted in a motor vehicle accident about to take place...

God delivered us.
But the man in the red car, I don't think had another chance.
And it all happened in the blink of an eye.

So what's the point in all this rambling?

Its this: People die daily, thousands of people die. Never getting another chance to accepts Christ's sacrifice as their own, never gaining salvation. And they're going to Hell. Not for a week, not until they do better, but forever. FOREVER. Why are we immune to this? Why do these figures not kill us inside as Christians? Why are we not doing everything we can to help? Why do we chase the American dream instead of lost souls for God? Its shaken me. And honestly, it should shake you. I don't know where to begin, its such a massive problem. And I feel like a lot of Christians have, helpless. But we're not...the revolution for God starts with one step, one decision, one commitment. You don't have to sell your house and move to Ethiopia, but if God calls you to do that, cool. If not, He might call you to talk to the struggling elderly couple you see walking down the road or the child without a father. He calls each of us to something specific for us because he knows us better than we know ourselves. So next time your stomach goes in knots for the orphan in Guatamala on the tv screen or hear about the the tornado victims on the radio, pray. Pray for God's guidance because that knot is there for a reason and I believe its God telling us something. Let's help, lets help just one soul feel the joy of God's love, lets share of passion of our salvation with a friend, lets do what we can while we can here...

These Quiet Hours

We turn off the television.

What's that sound in the Carolina sky? Crickets and frogs. Cicades and cars rushing past. 

Its comforting, really. It sounds like home. 

I'm in an interesting point in my life right now. I feel like I'm waiting. I'm waiting on God.

I'm waiting on God to point me in the direction He seems fit, and it seems like I keep trying to jump ship. That's not what He's called me to do. So I'm sitting here listening to the summer's anthem chirping and croaking, singing and buzzing outside. But there's a fire that's starting within me...

There's a missions trip this October with my church [won't you please pray for us?] and I've signed up to go. I don't know how, but I know if its God's will I will be helping to build a warehouse in the Dominican Republic in the fall this year. So this summer is about change.

Change in direction, change in attitude, change in habits. 

Change. He is redirecting my eyes.