In a new light (True colors?)

Most days, my graying hair and crinkling face don't bother me much.

Even when someone near and dear suggested in late August that I should consider coloring my hair, because the gray is showing, I confidently responded that I know I have gray, but I'm OK with it.

Since that time, however ... new light has been shed on the matter.

First was a picture taken at the end of September. Sure enough, my hair looked grayer than I'd ever seen it. Hmmmmmm. Is it time?

A couple of days later, the flourescent lighting in the bathroom began to flicker. When we changed out the tubes, the new ones were white rather than the warm, yellow-tinted hue. And the result in the mirror is Ms. Mousy Gray!

I truly have no idea what the real color is or how bad it looks.

And that's when I realized: Does it even matter?

I wouldn't say that I always like my hair (and overall appearance), but I'm generally quite OK with it. And I have little faith that spending more money or time on it would make me like it more. Maybe that's the point: To some degree I realize that, even though I want to feel good about my appearance, it's not the most important thing. And results seldom seem worth the cost or effort.

At the same time, for someone so unwilling to spend much time or money on my appearance, I do think (or worry -- or at least wonder) about it more than I think I should. I think it has more to do with insecurity than actual vanity. I don't even dream of being beautiful (well, OK, I can dream), but I do want to avoid looking bad. And that's where the awareness of graying hair, droopy eyelids and increasing evidence of aging come back in. Still, as in so many areas, for today, I can't see changing from the way I am.

Besides, aren't we always told that it's what's on the inside that counts? Ouch. Maybe that's why I get distracted by the outward appearance -- because I don't want to look within. Appearance is superficial, but what's inside is the heart of the matter. And I'm so aware of the flaws and imperfections there.

Meanwhile, a friend suggests that instead of focusing on what I see as imperfections and lack of symmetry and balance and uniform color, why not marvel at God's creative artistry?

I've been contemplating this subject for more than a week, and I still can't bring it to a conclusion. But I'm ready to move on.

Certainly this is not just about gray hair and wrinkles. It's about life.

The thing I am most aware of is that I spend too much time thinking about me and not enough caring about and doing with and for others. Fortunately, working on this is pushing me into faith and prayer -- and action.

Trust God. Serve God.

Lord, if you have a message to speak from this, please let me get out of the way and Your word shine through, to Your glory.

May I remember that what matters most is what's inside. If the heart and soul are cheerful and filled with love and gratitude toward God, the light of His spirit will shine.

“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? 2ook at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life? And why do you worry about clothes? See how the flowers of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith? So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own." (Matthew 6:25-34)

God help a fearful giver

How much is enough? What's it worth? Who decides value? Does it matter?

Variations of such questions were with me long before my all-expenses-paid cruise, but they have been with me even more since.

God has blessed me so lavishly through the years. How can I say thank You? How can I reflect His goodness? How can I show and share His love?

I want to make a difference. I'm tired of being selfish. My intentions are generous and compassionate. My reality is much less so.

I want to give more, serve more, help more, show love more, read more, sing more, write more, trust and obey God more ....

So, what is stopping me? What is holding me back. Fear, yes. But what is that fear? Part of it is fully me, my own sense of insecurity, doubt, and even uncertainty about what to do and where to begin. Part involves the wants, needs, values and priorities of others.

Two things in the past week have highlighted this vividly.

First is the ongoing pledge drive at K-Love, a listener-supported Christian radio station that I listen to almost every time I am in my car, which is at least an hour most days. I've listened for probably 20 years -- and I've never given a penny to support the ministry. I've thought about it many times, but I've always held back. It's never been a matter of whether I can afford to. It's always been matters of circumstances of my own little world. Among the things that have stopped me: Not liking how they conduct their pledge drive; and fear that they would do what everything I've ever donated to has done, which is send more and more requests for money. Another excuse involves feeling overwhelmed with the need -- and how much is enough: If I give to this ministry, shouldn't I also be giving to that one and that one and that one? How does one decide? Where does one stop? And, of course, in all of this, I am convicted by the testimonies that are shared on the station, of people with so much less than I have who give in faith. I did finally decide to give, but even then, I gave a one-time amount rather than a pledge. I'm not sure what that's about. I hope it opens the door to more giving. The station and its music help keep me focused on God and the good His people are doing every day. Of course I want to support that. Why is this so hard? But ... it still is.

While that was going on -- at the end of the first week of the pledge drive, before I gave anything -- I got an email from the American Cancer Society asking me to complete a survey about a fundraising campaign they are considering doing. They have my name because of my support of Relay for Life. In the course of completing the survey, I again was confronted with my confusion and insecurity and lack of generosity ...

How do people who donate significant gifts make those decisions? I actually have been praying about this for some time -- how to be a good steward of what God has given me and Gene. So far, I'm still not clear. My best hope is that when the time is right, God will make it clear.

"Now finish the work, so that your eager willingness to do it may be matched by your completion of it, according to your means. For if the willingness is there, the gift is acceptable according to what one has, not according to what one does not have." (2 Corinthians 8:11-12)

"Remember this: Whoever sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and whoever sows generously will also reap generously. Each of you should give what you have decided in your heart to give, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver. And God is able to bless you abundantly, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work." (2 Corinthians 9:6-8)

"This service that you perform is not only supplying the needs of the Lord’s people but is also overflowing in many expressions of thanks to God. Because of the service by which you have proved yourselves, others will praise God for the obedience that accompanies your confession of the gospel of Christ,and for your generosity in sharing with them and with everyone else. And in their prayers for you their hearts will go out to you, because of the surpassing grace God has given you. Thanks be to God for his indescribable gift!" (2 Corinthians 9:12-15)

Catching up and moving on, again

I needed to post a few more words before this day ended, if no more than symbolically to say a new month has begun. The previous post may be stamped Oct. 1, but in my mind, it was supposed to be September.

So now I'm on to October. I hate that it has begun with so much turmoil in our nation's government. I have friends who feel strongly on both sides of the political spectrum involving this Obamacare, the budget and now the shutdown. And I know people who are being furloughed and others who still must work but don't know when they will be paid. I don't have a strong sense of who/which side is right and which is wrong or what kind of compromise is needed to come up with a solution. I've prayed some intercessory prayers. It doesn't seem like enough.

But I'm glad October is here. As has often been the case for me in September, it was a month filled with opportunities and emotions that take more than 30 days to comprehend. I was ready to turn the calendar page, and hopefully, prayerfully, get back to my life's more routine structure. Call me a creature of habit -- it's one of my catlike traits. My boring routine might seem like a negative, but the past month away from it reminds me of its purpose. It's OK to take a break -- a vacation -- but it's good to be back in my familiar place.

Even so, I have a sense that I may never catch up. But I will try. Starting today. With how I worked, ate, exercised, prayed and blogged. I fell short again on reaching out to others in service or compassion. That will be a goal for tomorrow. It is one of my most important goals daily goals -- and the one I seem to most often fall short of. This time, I will keep trying. God willing, I won't give up before the next miracle happens.

Grace period

In my rush to get ready for October (actually, more just looking ahead than getting ready), I forgot to take care of September.

I had on my Oct. 1 to-do list "blog," but when I woke up Oct. 1, I thought, "Oops! I forgot to blog on Sept. 30!"

Which meant I only had THREE POSTS for September, which highlighted missing my goal of posting at least one time every seven days. And it looked like this time there was no way around it. (I'd already missed the "post every seven days" goal while on my cruise, but rationalized I could at least balance out the month with four posts total.)

And then I remembered I might have started one that I hadn't posted, and if so, it might post with that time stamp, making four for September.

And then I thought: "Grace?"

And then I thought: "Or is that dishonest?"

And then: "Grace period."

"Grace. Period."

In a September so rich with opportunity and experience that I can only claim progress in making sense of, it was one more example of God's grace. Unmerited favor. An undeserved reprieve. In all things, great and small.

God's amazing grace. Period.

Grace. Amen.

I choose grace. Amen.

But He said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. (2 Corinthians 12:9)

As God's co-workers, we urge you not to receive God's grace in vain. (2 Corinthians 6:1)

Has anything changed?

After what I described as defining moments and answered prayers in Barcelona, I've found myself wondering: Has anything changed?

The answer seems to be yes and no.

No, because I'm still disorganized, I procrastinate, and I let opportunities slip by. And because I already believed in miracles but just hadn't given them as much thought.

Yes, because I don't think a day has gone by that I haven't prayed with renewed faith that God will intervene in what appear to be impossible situations.

So, I pray for miracles. As I do, I realize that sometimes the miracle is sanity. Patience. Gratitude. And sometimes it really is the desired thing that seems impossible except with God's intervention.

-- The soul and spirit of loved ones who are good people, but I'm not sure they have the relationship with Christ that my faith and theology tell me is essential for their eternal salvation.

-- Those troubled by addictions, compulsions and/or mental distress.

-- A dear couple going through heartache and heartbreak over children and parents.

-- A four-decades-plus marriage that seemed to be on a strong Christian foundation and an example for all, and now is coming to an end.

-- Chaos, conflict and oppression throughout the world.

-- Situations where hard-working, conscientious and dedicated workers are pushed to near impossible limits.

Really, I'm not sure whether these need miracles or just healing. I lift them up to the Lord, praying in faith, trusting Him.

Today's reading from a 12-step devotional seemed appropos for my Barcelona experience and also as I continue to pray for God's intervention in all those varied situations. It's a quote attributed to French dramatist Jean Anouilh: "True miracles are created by men when they use the courage and intelligence that God gave them."

Of course, I don't take that to mean that people create miracles, but I do believe God sometimes uses people to orchestrate His divine plan. And sometimes He doesn't.

Speaking of miracles, sometimes the words of Isaiah 40:28-31 seem miraculous. Is this really possible? And of course the answer is yes!

Have you not known? Have you not heard? The LORD is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He does not faint or grow weary; his understanding is unsearchable. He gives power to the faint, and strengthens the powerless. Even youths will faint and be weary, and the young will fall exhausted; but those who wait for the LORD shall renew their strength, they shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint.

And the following aren't miracles, but they are promises and prayers I take to heart as I wrap this up:

“The Lord your God is with you, he is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing.” —Zephaniah 3:17

“The Lord make his face shine upon you and be gracious to you; the Lord turn his face toward you and give you peace.” —Numbers 6:25–26

Defining moments: Miracle in Barcelona

For all the glorious sights and experiences of my nine-day European cruise, the defining moments unfolded in an unplanned window of time as I found myself alone in the crowd of humanity at Barcelona's Park Guell, without identification, money, credit card or a phone.

Heading out about 8:45 a.m. Tuesday with a tour group for A Closer Look at Gaudi, I was thinking again that I was out of my element. Here I was on the final day of an expenses-paid cruise from Dover, England, to Barcelona, Spain, that I had done nothing to deserve and seemed unqualified to appreciate to its fullest. From the moment the travel opportunity came up, I had prayed to know whether to say yes, and also for understanding of God's will whether I accepted the trip or stayed home. The answers were still unclear. But the uncertainty did not keep me from enjoying the overall trip or this tour, which was taking the group past numerous notable buildings, including at least two designed by renowned Spanish artist and architect Gaudi.

Then we arrived at his Park Guell, a beautiful and fascinating creation with terraces, steps, houses, columns, colorful mosaics and designs. It wasn't crowded when we got there, but became more and more so. I was taking pictures as usual with my little Canon and my iPhone. All was going pretty well until the Canon quit working. I couldn't get it to come back on after it closed when not in use. I tried swapping out the batteries, and it still wouldn't work, and then I swapped memory cards. Still nothing. So I took the batteries out again and blew on them. And it came back on. What a relief!

By now, the group was heading back to the tour bus. Unfortunately, when I got there, I couldn't find the memory card. The original one. Which meant I had no pictures except those on the iPhone. I looked through all my stuff, and it wasn't there. What am I going to do? I mentioned it to the people around me and the tour guide, and she said there was no time to wait for me to go and look for it, which I knew. But she and several people seemed to be encouraging me to go back to look, and then to take a cab to the next stop: Gaudi's La Sagrada Familia. I finally decided to do that, after making sure I had money for the cab ride to the landmark cathedral.

Stepping out

As I stepped off the bus and walked unaccompanied back into the gardens, I started praying. I expressed praise and gratitude and trust in God. I acknowledged I was unworthy of a miracle, but humbly asked for one. I also affirmed to God my trust that, whatever happened, it would be OK, even though, by this time, I felt more "out of my element" than ever. I was aware that, without a guide to lead the way in the park crossed with many paths and levels, I was unsure even which way we had come while I was trying to get the camera to work.

At some point, I was thirsty and started trying to fish a water bottle out of my bag. I got my drink and kept going. Along the way I also saw a cat and had to take a picture, even as I became aware I probably wouldn't find my little camera case and the memory card within it. I knew I didn't have all day to look, because I was to rejoin the tour at the La Sagrada Familia. I decided to call my husband and just tell him I had lost the memory card with all my pictures, but that I knew there could be much worse things to lose, so I would just go on.

And then I began to experience what could only be classified at the moment as "much worse." I could not find my phone. And as I kept looking, I realized I could not find my wallet, either. Usually the phone was in a zippered pocket on the outside of my nylon backpack, and the wallet was in a smaller bag inside the nylon one. But in my rush to make sure I had money and phone before getting off the tour bus, they ended up together in the smaller bag.

I didn't know whether one of the pickpockets I had been warned about had gotten it, or if it had fallen out when I got the water. All I knew was that I now was in a busy city park in Barcelona without identification, money, credit card or a phone.

No longer was I praying for a little miracle. I knew I needed a big one.

Here, the idea that I don't deserve a miracle -- nor did I deserve the trip -- returned. Still, I prayed. In faith. With confidence. Not knowing what to expect.

Instead of writing notes about sites in Barcelona, I began filling my journal with what was in my mind, trying to stay focused and calm, writing out prayers: "Lord, I trust You. I thank You for Your presence." Lessons: "Don't go alone! Never go alone! And even so, trust God. Trust God. Don't cry. Pray for calm. Seek help." "Be gracious." "I trust You, God. It will be OK."

Having no idea where this would lead or how long it would last, my first stop was the bathroom, then I checked with the gift shop in the area where I had looked for the camera card. The young clerk spoke English and said items that are found sometimes are brought there, but my bag had not come. He told me where I might find police to help me. I looked some more for the bag containing my phone, money and ID, praying and hoping against hope, but didn't find it.

Meanwhile, by about 11:30 a.m., a police van had come to the gift shop area. Fortunately, one of the Barcelona Guardia Urban's finest spoke some English, and eventually he was able to reach the cruise line by telephone. An official there suggested the policeman get me a taxi and assure the driver the fare would be paid when I arrived at the terminal. (It never occurred to me or the police to call my cellphone! Duh! That's another lesson to learn from this.)

Overwhelmed

It was in the taxi that emotions started to overwhelm me as I thought of the lost pictures and the lost opportunity -- and how helpless I felt. I also felt embarrassed, stupid, humbled, grateful -- but fortunately never really scared or alone.

Still, tears formed. All my pictures. Gone. Credit card, gone. Driver's license, gone. Euros and U.S. currency, gone. (At least I knew my passport, the identification needed to fly home, was on the ship.) "If possible, Lord, if it be Your will, please help me not cry. If it's better for me not to cry, please help me not cry. And if it's OK -- then let the tears flow. Or, perhaps, if the tears flow, please help it be OK." (The tears trickled, and it was OK.)

When the taxi arrived at the ship terminal, I was greeted by people from the cruise, who even before paying the fare informed me my bag had been found and would be back at the ship at 2:30. (This was about 1 p.m.) I wasn't totally convinced, but felt hopeful. I got a new room key, then went up, praying and again trying to be positive but hesitant to get my hope up. Shortly, I had a phone message. It was Olivia, a member of my cruise group who also was on the Gaudi tour. She was excited to tell me she had found my bag. I could come and get it in the room next door. But when I got there, it was the camera bag and not the one with the phone, etc. What had been the object of my original search now seemed so insignificant. I felt crushed again. But I thanked her and expressed hope that, possibly, the information about the bag coming back at 2:30 might also be true. Dare I hope? How could I not?

Again, I kept praying, even as I was afraid to get my hopes up. I also considered whether to call Gene yet or wait until I knew whether the bag was found. (I knew that if it wasn't found, I would need my husband's help in canceling credit cards and making other arrangements to get me home. And if it was found, did he even need to know about all this before I got home?) But right around 2:30, the desk called and said my bag with phone and wallet was there. I felt such relief. Oh my. Thank you, God!

It wasn't clear to me where the bag had been or who brought it to the ship, but I was just glad to have it back.

As soon as I had my iPhone, I used it to get online and check email. And I saw Gene had emailed me just after 11 a.m. (4 a.m. Oklahoma time). "Call ASAP. Lost handbag?" As soon as I saw it (about 2:45 in Barcelona and 8:45 in OK), I texted: "Handbag is found. You can call me when you get this or have a chance." He replied that he couldn't call out, so I called him. Little did I know ...

Meanwhile, in the U.S. ...

Gene told me he had been awakened at 4:03 a.m. by a call from my cell phone number. "And it's a guy, speaking English. Good English. Not even an accent." The man said a bag with this phone had been found. And this was the last number called. Gene said it must belong to me, his wife, and that I was on a Crystal cruise. The man said he would make sure the bag and phone get back to the ship. Of course, Gene is wondering what happened to me. "I'm literally thinking you are in the hospital or dead." He knows I often take my purse and phone with me even when I go to the bathroom at home, so for me to be separated from them seemed serious. Had I been kidnapped?

After a couple hours of wondering and worrying, at about 6:30 (7:04?), Gene called my number back, trying to get more information about what was going on. The man said the bag was being taken back to the ship (but he apparently had no idea where I was). Gene said he had not been able to contact me, so the man gave him a phone number for the ship. Gene called and talked to someone on the ship, but that didn't really provide any clarity as to my whereabouts.

So, while I had no idea Gene was aware that my bag had been lost and found, he had no clue about where I was or whether anything had happened to me until I called after 2:30 p.m. Barcelona time (8:48 OK time). (As best I can tell, that was at least four hours without him knowing; some of the times and numbers don't quite add up, based on what Gene and I remember and what time stamps on emails and texts reflect.)

Everything in its place

That night, I met my cruise group for a small party, but decided not to go back into Barcelona with them. I wanted to try to track down the rest of the story of who found my bag and how it got back to the ship and thank whomever was involved.

And, amazingly, I did! The woman at the ship's front desk said the person who brought it back was one of Crystal's ambassador hosts, and he was in the Stardust Club dancing. So I headed that way, and when I was about there, a woman going the other way looked at me and exclaimed, Are you the woman with the lost bag? I said, um, yes. I asked what she knew about that, and she said she and the woman with her were among the people who found my bag and brought it back. So I met her and her sister-in-law -- and the host who was the excursion's escort.

They were with a different tour going through Park Guell. They gathered in an area with benches, and some sat down. When they got up to go on, someone noticed the bag. They thought it belonged to someone from their group, but no one claimed it. As they tried to decide what to do with it, they saw the iPhone. Only one knew how to use it and decided to call last number. That's the call that awakened Gene, who was in Arkansas for a conference.

They could tell by the iPhone pictures that I was on their ship. Plus, one of the women said she recognized me (from my driver's license picture?) as someone on the ship. Of course, like Gene, they had no idea where I was or what had happened to me, so they were quite concerned and were praying, too.

They had been as interested in finding me as I was in finding them. They had checked with the desk later to find out if I had returned to the ship and were relieved to know I did. But we all were glad to get the chance to meet, take pictures, express gratitude to each other -- and thank God!

I've always had faith and an awareness that God loves me, never leaves me and works all things for good as I seek Him and trust Him. And if you asked, I would say I believe in miracles. I believe that, on Tuesday, Sept. 10, 2013, I experienced a miracle in Barcelona. I see no way except for God's perfect, divine intervention that all my lost or misplaced things could have made their way back to me. I just don't think that could all happen by chance.

While I missed my coveted visit to the architecturally and spiritually significant La Sagrada Familia (known, among other things, as a work in progress more than 100 years after it was started), God visited me -- His own work in progress -- in an intimate, powerful and transformative way. I stand in awe of His amazing grace and pray to respond to His glory.

An ongoing project

I'm back from the cruise.

It was wonderful.

I've been trying to compose reflections about it, but each time I've gotten bogged down with details. There is so much I want to write down -- for my records and to share -- but it is taking more time than I had hoped to make sense of it all. So, it will be an ongoing project.

The "Wisdom from Oswald Chambers" I encountered and shared before the trip was helpful along the way:

"When you are joyful, be joyful; when you are sad, be sad. If God has given you a sweet cup, don’t make it bitter; and if He has given you a bitter cup, don’t try and make it sweet; take things as they come." Shade of His Hand, 1226 L

"Take things as they come." That's what I did and continue to do.

My expenses-paid "European Embrace" aboard the Crystal Serenity was indeed a sweet cup, with many opportunities to feel joyful, refreshed and blessed. God revealed His presence, trustworthiness and power in new, transformative ways, and I pray to be faithful in my response. This, too, is an ongoing project.