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Coffee with Jesus

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I wish I could just meet Jesus for coffee. Except, I don’t drink coffee – for Him I’m willing to make an exception. Sometimes, I just want to hear His voice, see His smile, smell His clothes.

I know I have the living Christ within me and all the power that rose Him from the dead. I know I can call to Him in prayer anytime and He is always available. I know I have God’s written word – more than any of the prophets or apostles had. I know I have Bible Studies, podcasts and endless book on How to Find God. Yet, sometimes I wish I could meet Jesus face to face at the local Subway and talk about life over a sandwich. 

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There’s nothing wrong with Vanilla!

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I have married a very simple guy. On our date nights, we usually stop by the local frozen yogurt shop where I love to try all the new flavors. Yes, I also have my “usual”, but I get excited at the new options. As we check out I look at the bowl next to mine on the counter and see that Adam has again, chosen chocolate and vanilla. Every time. Just chocolate and vanilla.

I started thinking about life through a chocolate and vanilla lens. It’s a perfect, pure foundation – one that all great flavors are created from.

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Grab a towel!

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I can make it a habit of being discouraged. The dog barks too loud, the kids ask the wrong question at the wrong time, leave their socks lying around for the last time, you get the picture. My quiet, reflective morning easily turns to despair when 2 or more of these items happen at the same time. The great, fun, exciting plans for the day are dashed in my head now….

Why do I get like this? Why do I let my outward circumstances steal away my inward joy? Because it’s LIFE! Because the dog tracks in water on the floor when it’s been raining (or snowing!) outside for 3 days in a row, the kids leave the jelly out after they use it, they don’t brush their teeth without me reminding them and the living room looks like the rapture just occured (but I know it didn’t, because I’m still here!). It’s just L-I-F-E and the messes it brings for us to clean up – JOYFULLY! Well, not alway joyfully here. I usually like to inform the kids that I wouldn’t be go grumpy if they did their part…the cup of milk wouldn’t have spilled if you’d be more careful…if you’d done…were more….moved less…all of this would have been prevented and my day would be perfect. Continue reading →

The Ring of Fire

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We had a fire going in our burn pile late one Sunday afternoon. The pile had grown tall throughout the months with limbs and logs from the fall rains. At about 10:00, the fire was catching its second wind. My husband, wanting to sleep some that night, took all the proper precautions to ensure the blaze would remain contained. He sprayed down the ground around the fire pit, and he made sure no leaves or limbs were dangling over the side. As we prayed that night before going to sleep, we asked the Lord to guard the fire and awaken us if it needed attention.

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Work those Muscles!

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The cooler weather has taken my exercising INDOORS. Yes, I know this reveals that I’m not a die-hard runner, but I am still trying to stay active.

The other day, I pulled out some of my old stand-by DVDs to plug in. You know, the ones with the young and well defined muscular men and women leading the program. When Adam saw me lacing up my shoes and which workout I was putting in, he said, “You know that guy is like in his 60s now?!” Not realizing the total amount of years that has passed since its debut, I thought, “I wonder what he looks like now!” 

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Puppy Dog Eyes, Alligator Tears

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Zach looked up at me with puppy dog eyes, with one of those alligator tear drops threatening to spill down his cheek. He was disappointed. Something hadn’t gone his way. Someone left him out. Like an unsuspecting helium balloon flying high on expectations, a tiny pin hole had let all the air escape and finally landed flat on the floor. That was my little boy. He wasn’t trying to manipulate circumstances or get someone in trouble – this time anyway – he was just deflated. Coming to his Mom, he simply crawled up in my lap, just needing to be held. As I wrapped him in my arms and dried his tears, I whispered, “I love you, Zach.” “I love you too,” he replied.

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Fine China Meals – Steck Style!

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June 19, 2000. We had been married not quite a year and it was my husband’s birthday. I looked around our newly acquired apartment. Boxes lined the white, bare walls and the carpet was hardly visible. With no pictures on the wall or clothes hanging in the closets, this place didn’t quite feel like home yet. “How can I do something special for his birthday in this mess,” I thought regretfully. As I continued to unpack the boxes and assign the dishes to a cabinet, I came across the box of beautiful china place settings we were given as a wedding gift. “That’s it!” I had an idea.

I set to work, browning the meat (probably had to run to the store first!). At 19 years old, I wasn’t real comfortable in the kitchen yet, but was determined to get there! Next, I began arranging the chips on the plates, grating cheese, spooning out salsa, sour cream, and maybe slicing an avocado (if they were on sale!). Can you guess what’s on the menu for this occasion? Yep, nachos!
I will never forget eating nachos on fine china plates, sitting on our tiny barstools to fit our tiny “bar” while we overlooked a ransacked apartment. But in my husband’s eyes, it was perfect! It was his favorite meal, with his favorite wife, in our first apartment – what memories!

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Locked Out!

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   “Bang, bang, bang,” knocked my 5 year old son, outside, on the door. His little eyes peered through the window. No answer. Quickly he knocked again, “bang, bang, bang”. Still nothing moved from within the house. Inside, the radio volume in the living had been turned way up to feel the good song and I was back in my bedroom, completely oblivious to the banging noise. Any other time and Zach’s brother and sister would easily have heard his knock and responded, but this time, they weren’t home. The banging turns to crying and wailing as my desperate son realizes the reality: He’s locked out! When finally, over the noise of the house, I heard a faint sound. I went into the Living Room and saw my husband, home for lunch, with a child tucked in his arms standing at the back door banging as loudly as he can. And thankfully, if I hadn’t heard that knock, he had a key! 

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Day with Dads

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Adam and I served alongside some dear friends at a prison unit recently, facilitation something called “Day with Dads”. Here, convicts, separated by their families, have the opportunity to fully embrace their loved ones. We served lunch and played games.

Had it not been for the white uniforms and guards present, you’d forget this was a prison. To see the faces of the Dads when their son or daughter walked in that room…there are no words, but tears streamed down my cheeks. Through-out the day, the families continued to offer their gratitude for this program and the opportunity twice a year to see their loved one who’s living with the consequences of their choices. The end of the day came, and the good-byes held more tears than the “hellos”, for both parties knew it would be many months before this would happen again. The young children did not understand why Daddy can’t be home.

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Dry Eyes, Prickly Thorns

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Sometimes I feel that I know how the rose feels…to have a thorn in its side. I’ve written about the thorn of the rosebush before in the context of relationships (Relational Rose Bush). We know roses have thorns and must treat them as so and not curse the way they are! Some days I believe I too, have a thorn in my side. There’s this thing that is just apart of how God made me that gets twisted up in my flesh and rears its ugly head. It’s purposes are against God’s plan and desire for me. I have prayed for deliverance of it, confessed it, sought forgiveness for it’s effects, ignored it, shoved it in a locked cabinet, fasted over it, but it’s still there, just like the rose’s thorny stem.

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