Tuesday With Teri

        Duke is our wonderful, big black lab.  He is about 11 yrs old and is nearly 90 pounds.  Sometimes though, he can be a frustrating example of stubbornness mixed with stupidity.  You see, Duke’s a “stick getter”, he is a Labrador “retriever” after all.  When he was a puppy this cute aversion to “stick getting” sometimes facilitated negative relationships with our neighbors.  There was the time he brought home a land scape timber.  Our laughter at the sight of a our dog dragging a 2 foot log home was short lived when we noticed the 2 foot gap in the border of the neighbor’s freshly laid flower bed.  Unfortunately this same neighbor had one beautiful rose plant in their front yard.  Not a bush, just one small start of a vine near the base of their lamp post.  Lovingly planted in honor of their new daughter Rose and tended to daily, this plant’s first and only bloom was a joy to watch grow.  The sweet tight bud eventually opened and was a single beauty in their green lawn for many days…that is until Duke brought home a stick.  It wasn’t entirely his fault…the rose had opened as far as it could and the petals were destined to fall off soon, they were barely attached…honestly, the stick barely touched the rose.  The impact was unavoidable.  The petal-less stem, a bright bundle of petals at  its base and Duke less than innocently wagging his tail…this was the start of the stick syndrome.  Duke enjoyed fetching sticks and such as a youngster.   Over the years Duke’s stick getting has taken on a bit of a pattern.    In the morning when he is let out he is compelled to have a stick in his mouth.  (Some folks keep reading material int heir bathrooms, for Duke it seems he must have a stick.)  Once his mission is accomplished he deposits this stick at the front door.   Now that we live near the woods Duke’s stick getting has presented new challenges.  Every windy day creates an overwhelming choice of sticks for Duke.  Sometimes he struggles with which stick to pick up.  His indecision will often lead to him carrying several sticks home.  When the ground is covered with leaves or snow he sometimes can’t find a stick…his futile search prolongs our morning routine as we stand outside in the cold waiting for him to get done so we can have our coffee.  Many times he finds sticks too long which drag across our cars as he passes them in the driveway. 

        These days we try to keep a pre-chosen stick at the front door for him.  This usually reduces the time he requires to be outside.  Each day he picks up the same stick  for his efforts and returns it to its place at the base of the steps when done.  Today was not to be so carefully orchestrated.  The pre-chosen stick was not in it’s place.  In the dark hours of the morning Duke wandered out to locate a replacement and accomplish his task.  I stood outside and allowed my eyes to adjust to the darkness.  I could barely make out the outline of our big black dog in the woods, but I could tell he had indeed found a new stick.  I let myself be fooled into thinking I would soon be letting him, and myself, back into the warm house.  Nope, not Duke, not yet.  I began to call and walk toward him.  By now the sun was starting to glow a bit and I cold see through the trees the cause of his delayed return…a stick.  He dropped what he had found at first because before him was a stick which can best be described as a small tree.  I watched as he struggled to pick up this fallen branch.  Approximately 7ft long with numerous, leaf filled branches extending from it, it was tangled in the underbrush.  Duke tugged and pulled till it was free, but as he walked it soon caught on every bush and tree he attempted to pass.  We live near the woods. there were many other stick options, but he would not be dissuaded.  I called him, offered treats and even scolded and threatened him…nope, today he would bring this mighty tree to the door.  I finally had to go into the woods in my slippers and PJs to assist this stubborn dog of ours.  I knew he would hurt himself trying to bring it home.  I knew he could have chosen a better stick.  I knew if he would just listen to me we could both be inside the warm house and enjoying breakfast.  Duke only knew of his stick, his new big wonderful find.  He was not letting go.  I wonder how long he would have faught with the stick if I had not interviend?  I finally had to break his chosen stick  into a more manageble size.  Once freed from the weight of his own choice he wagged his tail and headed for house.  

           As I write this Duke is sleeping at the door, his morning stick getting adventure/crisis is far from his mind I’m sure, but not from mine.  I was thinking about big sticks in my life.  Like Duke, sometimes I take hold of things that may not be the best for me.   Do I stubbornly hang on to things God is telling me to let go?  Do I think I have something good, when God knows I could have better.  Does God sometimes come into my life and break my sticks to free me from things I don’t even know are holding me back?  I see Duke’s example and I do not want to live my life the most difficult way.  I don’t want God to have to intervene just to get me to follow His will for me.  But I am thankful for a God who gives me grace abundantly.  I have a God who will help me carry my sticks in life.   He forgives me when I choose the wrong sticks and  He will whittle my sticks when needed so I can get home.   Once more I find comfort and strength in IPeter 5:7-11…casting all my worry on Him, because He cares for me…

I LOVE hammocks!    There is nothing like precious hammock time.   What really surprises me is the lack of hammock enjoyment I have witnessed at various vacation locations.  When ever we travel to any tropical resort or hotel, my second order of business (after putting our bags in the room) is to verify if any hammocks are on site and their location.  Sometimes I get up early and try to be the first one to put “dibs” on what I perceive is the BEST place of all…a hammock.  I have noticed on several occasions that many of the hammocks sat empty, hanging and flapping in the breeze.   At one  hotel I could not believe my luck!  The property had a small grassy court, between its pool and the beach, lined with nine pristine, crisp cotton hammocks!  I thought for certain I would need to race out each day to reserve my hammock spot…but I was wrong.  Most days the hammocks sat neglected like hollow shells.  To my delight I had access to any hammock any time!  I soon discovered why.  The hammocks were no where near any shade. The intense Florida sun made resting in them like laying under an oven broiler.  No matter…I love hammocks under any condition…I laid in my hammock each day with a towel pulled over my head and most of my body.  I was not going to let a little sun keep me from enjoying one of life’s great pleasures.   If there is a hammock on the property where we’re staying , it is my goal to have hammock time at least once each day.  I can’t imagine why anyone else would not do the same! 

         Last year while in Mexico we stayed at a nice location that seemed to be lacking hammocks.  One day while exploring the rather expansive grounds I discovered a pool side location which had two hammocks.  The cotton rope hammocks  hung from carved wooden poles and had just the right amount of shade cast over them.  As I surveyed the situation I wondered why no one was in them.  Did some one else have “dibs” on them?  Were the prior hammock users only up for a drink and expected to return?  Were they reserved for “special” guest?  I hesitated and tried to assess the situation before making a move.  To think there were such sweet resting spots not being enjoyed, to me, was unfathomable!  The area was packed with people choosing to lounge on plastic chairs and wet towels.   I tentatively  approached the hammocks, making sure as to not encroach on someone elses hammock rights.  Eventually I settled into one and considered never getting up.  It was such a delight!  The music from the resort was playing just above the "whoosh" sound of waves crunching onto the shore.  From then on, each day I would wonder to the far side of the resort and enjoy my hammock time.  For the first few days I never had to wait for a turn…they continued to stay empty.  On around the third day or so I found one of them being used.  Eventually the open time for the hammocks lessened.  I adjusted my hammock time to a less crowded morning hour. 

         So here is what I have been thinking…why were so many people not enjoying the hammocks?  Why isn’t everyone as excited about these perfect places of rest!  Hammocks symbolize vacations, peacefulness, lazy days,  and freedom from stress!  I have a few  theories: 1. I think a lot of people fail to take advantage of hammock time opportunities because they have never experienced it before….maybe no one has shared with them the joys of hammock time.  2. Maybe they’ve had a bad hammock experience(I find that hard to imagine. I have fallen when one broke, tumbled out on my tushy and have been spun upside down by people who think it’s funny…yet all hammock time is good to me.) 3.   Maybe they’re concerned about how to get in or out of the hammock.  Admittedly entering a hammock of any sort in public does present opportunity for an America’s Funniest Video clip.  (I am sure I have provided plenty of entertainment to those nearby by my more graceless entrance and exit techniques.)   Could fear of failing, or being made fun of, keep folks from such a nice time?  Looking back at last years hammock encounter I think there is evidence to support my theories.  You see, until those around the hammock stand saw someone enjoying it, they may not have considered it for themselves…but trust me, I looked VERY happy in the hammock.  Also, after viewing my technique for getting into and out of a rope hammock  for a few days, no doubt some decided it was not too difficult…after all, if I could do it without face-planting anyone could.  I like to think I enabled my fellow vacationers to discover a love of hammock time.

         I think it is unbelievable that others do not love hammocks as I do, yet when I think of others who do not love God or know the love of God, I do not feel as shocked.   I should be!   God is greater than anything this world gives us, including hammock time.  He gives us perfect rest, comfort, refreshment.  My God and my relationship with Him through Christ is the most important thing in my life.   Why would anyone NOT want to know God through His Son Jesus?  Who would pass up a chance to find rest and love unconditional, full of mercy and grace!    1. Those who have never experienced His love.  Maybe no one ever shared with them how great He is or fullness of His grace? 2.  Maybe they’ve had a bad experience.  Are they hurting inside from wounds from the past? 3. Maybe they do not know how to enter into a saving relationship with God.  I have no problem setting a good example for proper hammock entry/exits, yet do I set an example, provide encouragement or guidance for those around me who may want to know my God?  The Bible tells us that anyone who calls upon the name of the Lord, WILL be saved.  Jesus died for our sins so we can ask  forgiveness and have a saving relationship with God.  This”GoodNews" is so much better than hammock time and tons easier to get into!  Here is our challenge…Lets’ not pass up any opportunityto share how great our God is to those around us.  Can others see the joy it gives us?  Do we help others see Him beyond their hurt? Do we set a living example of how to know Him?  Every hammock I encounter in life will always remind me of this challenge.  I hope you find many opportunities for hammock time!

       Today I went out without my coat on, mom would not be pleased.  My mom was the “mean lady” who insisted I wear my coat even on Halloween!  Imagine my horror, and subsequent pouting, when forced to don a winter parka over my costume.  In my pre-adolescent opinion covering my costume (an overstuffed pumpkin made lovingly by this same “mean lady”), would simply make me look like a big, fat kid.  Go ahead, get the image in your mind…short kid, big bulky parka (with fur trimmed hood), green stocknig covered legs protruding from underneath and a head topped with a green felt beanie complete with stem and leaves…done giggling yet?  Of course in her defense I should mention we did live in North Dakota at the time…and in October there may have been a bit of snow on the ground.  Yep, I was obviously raised to know better, yet there I was out and about running early morning errands without my coat.  According to my car it was a balmy 33F.  As I sat contemplating the shortest path from my car to  the store, I am pretty certain I saw a few rogue snow flakes float past my windshield.  I would not want to blame this situation on my own poor judgement so I’ve come up with a few excuses.  First of all, no one told me to put a coat on!  If only mom would have been there to alert me to the need, instead she was probably enjoying the warmth of her home in Florida, unaware she was neglecting her child.   Without a doubt, most of the blame is to be placed on the toasty, well insulated location of my car…the garage.  In my dash from house to car I was not exposed to the elements lurking beyond my driveway.  In the safety of my garage I unknowingly entered the world unprepared.  I’ve made this mistake before.  At times the shelter of my comfort zone has caused me to not adequately prepare for the journey ahead.

       Sometimes God allows difficulty, hardship and heartache to impact our lives.  I may struggle to understand why God would allow such adversity, but I never doubt His love for us.  Maybe these times are like God lifting the roof off our garage…we can start our journey better prepared/equipped for the opportunities or challenges He has for us.  I Peter 1:6&7  reminds us, “In this you greatly rejoice, even if now for a little while you have been distressed…your faith, which is more precious than gold…may be found to result in the praise and glory and honor at the coming of Jesus Christ.”  As we face each day with the happiness and hurt it may bring, we can have confidence in these things:  1. A sovereign God loves us!   2. Mom’s always right, put on your coat!

It’s here, our first real snow of the season.  No doubt this “snow event”, as our weathermen refer to it as, is the result of thousands of school children praying, donning pajamas inside out and performing the snow dance.  I am conflicted.  Part of me needs to thank them for providing us all with a day to stay home, relax or play.  Another part of me wishes their snow beckoning efforts were not so effective, but that’s just the boring, adult part of me that knows eventually the snow will need to be moved and traveling to work will need to take place.   I do love to watch the snow falling.  It is an amazing equalizer.  Even the thinnest blanket of snow makes every lawn unblemished and radiant.  Unlike Spring, when differing degrees of money and effort result in neighbor to neighbor lawn variations and envy.  When it snows there are no dirty cars or clean cars.  Curbs and driveways are dotted only with globs of white with wheels and windows.   The world changes when this white stuff begins to fall.  One quietly laid coating of snow and already our average Home Depot patio set looks ready for a formal tea, complete with a gorgeous winter lace table cloth.   Long dead garden plants now look like vibrant bouquets of white carnations as the snow piles up on their withered limbs.  The grey, jagged wood of our decking is replaced with a smooth coating of snow.  It reminds me of all the times I have used excessive amounts of icing to cover/fill/even out my often misshapen cakes.  Even our usually unsightly trash can looks softer, less offensive and blended with its surroundings under the cover of snow.  In Psalm 51 David calls out to  God and brings before Him his blemished, withered and broken self.  He is seeking to be forgiven and knows God’s forgiveness will leave him “whiter than snow”.   Through His prophet Isaiah(1:18), God tells us “Though our sins be as scarlet, they will be white as snow…”  I like that.  Though we have numerous nicks, scratches and dings in our life, God will forgive us and we too can be “whiter than snow”.    I think we’d all look radiant in the white winter lace now thickening on my patio table!

There we were, looking out on a frozen river and boat laden dock.  While my husband worked diligently to free our boat from the grip of the ice monster and install a device used to keep ice away, I found myself huddled behind Steven.  Yes, I was using my 22yr old as a windsheild.  Gone are the days when I could protect him from gusts of freezing wind I suppose.  But as I stood there(my form of “helping” my husband) in the cold I found it difficult to imagine how I could have once thought this kind of cold was fun.   My memories of digging forts out of snow banks and ice skating until my limbs were numb on a small rink my dad formed for us in the back yard are based on real events, yet how could I have found such delight in such frigid surroundings.  This day, instead of enjoying myself, I can hear my very grown up voice whine and complain as I stand bundled against the elements.   I guess with the passing of time and perspective our sensory receptors send amended messages to our brains.  Now instead of “weeeee” and “yipeee” my brain registers “whoa” and “oh my”, when encountering bitter cold.  When I ventured beyond the protection of my small wall of a son, I begain to appreciate the calm of my surroundings.  Ice on the river brings many things to a halt.  As I watched the geese standing on the river, the scene was at once a depiction of nature’s beauty , yet quite  unnatural to behold.  The river was a picture of movement waiting to be set free…and free it did become.  Some places let loose the current in response to an impact of some sort, cracking and breaking and shifting.  In other areas the river began to move due to the gradual thinning of the frozen membrane that once held it still.  As temperatures rose and more current flowed melting began to take place.  Movement once held at bay now freely following its path past our docks.  It may freeze agian, but it will not stay still forever.

Today we await the inauguration of our 44th president.  He represents to many, not only a change in administration, but also an undeniable symbol of the impact of any individual on the movement of our nation.    Words and actions of those who came before…some with hard, ice cracking, impact…others  a part of the gradual wearing away of ideas and stubburn bonds that held many from their goals or dreams.    But altogether, individuals, set our nation into motion, unfreezing us from the grip of stillness.   We are a nation that desires to move, is designed to change and determined to adapt.  No doubt there will be a freeze again….but nothing stays frozen forever.

     I have a habit of often proclaiming that I live in “the land of good enough”.  This is often my excuse for my quickness to accept minimal efforts from myself as well as others.  “The land of good enough” is a nice place to live.  Within the borders of this wonderful habitation I can release myself from difficult tasks, uncomfortable conversations, and burdensome obligations.  In the “land of good enough” my housekeeping techniques go something like this: baseboards are only cleaned prior to mother/mother-in-law visits(although these days even that is allowed to slide by),  only the level of the house you expect guests to venture into need be cleaned, events hosted at the home take place after sunset (everything looks better in candle light…matter of fact, in candle light, dust tends to give that fuzzy warm look to your home…sort of like when movie film is shot through cheese cloth to give a scene a dreamy/blurry image.), the vacuum stays set out in the hall/entry way(so folks who”drop in” think I’m in the middle of cleaning…which explains the current disarray they may encounter) and I am okay with my floors not being “clean enough to eat off of” since I am not likely to ask you to do so.  In “the land of good enough” wrinkles are not an enemy which need eradicating, but rather a fashion choice.  In my little land, weeds in the lawn are not of concern as long as they are green.  My hair, make up and nails need not achieve  perfection.  Ones personal appearance need only not provoke gasps of horror in “the land of good enough”.  I’ve actually thought my existence in this “land” was a good thing.  Not only does it allow me to reduce my stress, but it also makes it easy to extend grace to others.  If my waitress is a little slow, it’s no problem as long as I get food.  If the other drivers on the road are less than perfect, well…sometimes just not causing an accident is “good enough”.  If someone makes a mistake that causes me problems, I can often forgive them because intentions are most important in “the land of good enough”.   Who wouldn’t want to live in “the land of good enough”?    

      Our Sunday school class has been involved in a study lately which has me reevaluating the confines of my wonderful, forementioned “land”.    In his book, In A Pit With A Lion On A Snowy Day, Mark Batterson examines the actions of a warrior whose exploits are briefly mentioned in  2Samuel 23:20-22.  Here we read of a man who did not choose the easy, or even logical, path…instead he chased the difficult and dared to attempt the impossible.   Jesus Himself, shares the parable of the talents found in Matthew 25:14-30 which also highlights “the master’s” pleasure with those who took risks to benifit him..  The Word of God is filled with examples of people who chose to step out, step up, and do difficult things.  I began to search the scriptures for examples of people who maybe also once lived in “the land of good enough” …could there be an example of God being delighted with mediocre efforts, easy choices and low expectations?   Nope.  Instead I find tons of evidence of God’s delight with those who step beyond the walls of “good enough” so that He might be glorified.   By allowing myself, and those around me, to find comfort/justification in doing the least  that can be done, I may be missing His best.  I do not mean to imply that I will be making any radical housekeeping/personal upkeep changes…only that I now see I do need to make some changes in what I expectof myself.   You see, while I may be sort of joking when I tell peolple about living in ” the land of good enough” in terms of everyday things…I realize I tend to apply this mantra to other choices of greater importance  far too often. I don’t want to miss God given oppertunites to honor Him just because I am happy in my “land of good enough”.   

     That faint “creeeeek” you just heard is the sound of me slowly pushing open the very heavy gate to my “land of good enough”.  As I peek out to examine the world beyond, the “land of my God is big enough”  please join me.  I hope you’ll share my challenge to live beyond the mediocre, expect the best of myself  and the best of my Lord and leave the “land of good enough”.

          The dry cleaning lady knows my name. … I’m not sure if this is because my husband’s work attire of choice promotes frequent visits to the dry cleaner, or if she makes an effort to recall names as part of a company public relations/marketing plan.  I don’t actually care why she knows my name, only that she does.   I love it.   My first realization of this came when I was dropping off my usual arm load of pants and shirts.   She greeted me before I even reached the counter, “Hi Miss Miller”.   At the time I did not openly react with the surprise and delight I felt upon hearing my name.  Maybe I had only imagined it.  Then another time, I entered the store and before giving them my phone number or ticket I was greeted with, “Hi Miss Miller, are you going to work out today?”   (You see the dry cleaner is next to the Curves Gym that I work out at.  I am often either going or have just come from there on my way to the cleaners.)  I felt like a rock star…she not only knew my name, but she also cared about my workout plans!  The best part took place the other day.  I was heading into Curves (I was not even going to the dry cleaners), she had just stepped out of her store when she saw me and shouted, “you go Miss Miller!”   I felt like Rocky Balboa in the training scene where the “public” cheered him on in his effort to get in shape.  Sadly, I do not know her name, but I must confess, her use of my name and her effort to engage me beyond that of dry cleaning has made me her customer for life.  I know it was a simple thing…and maybe I am too easily moved…but it does highlight an important point: Relationships Matter. 

          2008 was a year filled with reminders of this very thing.  The year began with the loss of my daughters best friend.  As we walk her through this time I am constantly made aware of the powerful impact this relationship had on our daughter and our family.  The value of friendship, shared dreams, laughter, tears and adventure is brought to the forefront of my thoughts each day.  Relationships Matter.  

           2008 saw the advent of our family’s “Bloodworth Reunion”.  In July our home was filled with relatives young and old.  Someof whom we’ve kept close with over the years, some new to our growing clan, and some we seldom see due to careers and long distances.   Yet,  in less than one day together the value of family relationships was evident.  There were stories to tell, burdens to share and milestones to celebrate.  I consider myself  blessed to have such a treasure trove of wildly diverse, loving and loyal family members.  Relationships Matter.

          The summer of 2008 also brought about Tuesdays at Teri’s. (The event this blog gets its name from)  At the prompting of a very wise, spirit filled Sunday School class member, I welcomed ladies to our home each Tuesday from 10 to 2 for  poolside fun and fellowship.   This casual gathering of young wives and mothers made a significant impact on my life.  Spending time with these precious ladies and their children afforded me a chance to know them better and rekindle my comfort level with little ones.  (This would come in handy later in the year when I traveled with my sister-in -law to receive her adopted son from Vietnam) …the biggest impact came from simply watching them grow relationships.  As they provided counsel, encouragement and mentoring for one  another, it became clear that while the pool may have been refreshing on hot summer days, the real refreshment those days brought was the sweet relief found in relationships.  Relationships Matter.

          I have many relationships in my life that matter, but none more impactful than my relationship with God through His son Jesus Christ.  It is this relationship which grants me unconditional love,grace and forgiveness.  Because of  friends, family and yes, even the dry cleaning lady, I have known the thrill of being thought of, cared for, encouraged and remembered.  I would like to do the same for others in 2009.  Everyone should experience the feelings my dry cleaner bestows upon me…simply by being known…Relationships Matter.

          I like to fish…hook, bait and bobber.  I’m not a “cast and crank” person…I’m a “bobber watcher”. Yes, there is nothing better than sitting quietly and watching for any slight movement of your bobber in the water, alerting you to a potential catch. I must admit, I even enjoy the “false alarms” of a tugging wave or nibbling bait fish. Just sitting on a water’s edge and experiencing hope is a thrill. I had forgotten about this simple joy in life until a recent boating trip. As friends and I sat on the dock we decided to drop in a fishing line, baited with hot dog chunks, just to play with the crabs as they stole the bait and scurried away. To our amazement, and that of anyone else, we actually caught a fish! Immediately memories of fishing off defunct bridges and sea shores with my parents came flooding back and, pardon the pun, I was hooked. My renewed interest was further fueled when I landed a HUGE catfish on another boating day. So…to my delight, Santa brought me fishing gear and tackle this year! I am almost giddy with anticipation of potential fishing success…so much so that when the house was quiet and no one else home I snuck off to a local dock to test out my new toys. Yes, it was quite cold Monday afternoon, but the sun was shining and there was ample radiant heat to make you toasty in between gusts of wind.   Fellow fishermen passed by the dock on their bass boat and inquired what I was fishing for…note to self, when asked this question in the future…lie.  Apparently it is not cool to announce proudly you are after catfish when one is fishing on the Potomac.   Alas, there would be no catfish catching victories this day…but that is okay.  I had  a quiet, relaxing time in the sun and watching my bobber.

          As I sat on the dock and considered my bobber watching delight I thought of Simeon. I know, I know…you were thinking of him too right? Some of you may recall in the telling of Christmas events that there was a man in Jerusalem whom the Bible calls “righteous and devout”. Luke 2:21-32 tells us that Simeon had been told by the Hoy Spirit  that he would not die until he had seen the savior of Isreal(the Lord’s Christ). Scriptures tell us he was “waitng”…talk about “bobber watching”. Simeon must have eyed each young man who came to the temple as the potential “one”…just as I eye each bob of my bobber as a signal. Did he stare down temple visitors in a way that made them uneasy in his desire to not “miss” the savior? For bobber watchers like me knowing the difference between a fish and an errant wave or crab comes from experiencing a fish on your line and learning how it feels. How did Simeon know when he saw Jesus that it was him? Verse 27 tells us he was moved by the Spirit and recall he was known as a “righteous and devout” man. Simeon watched and waited…but he also made sure he stayed connected/devoted to God. I think that is why he did not miss the Christ child’s arrival. If Christ came today, would I recognize him? Do I eagerly wait on the hand of God and look for His working in my life with the same intensity and joy with which I watched the bobber at the end of my line? Hmmmm….I hope in 2009 we all find it easier to wait on God, see Him in our world, and seek Him with the anticipation  and hope of a bobber watching fisherman.