The Locusts Have Eaten

“And I will restore to you the years that the locust hath eaten…” Joel 2:25a

This verse was given to my father nearly six years ago when my younger brother walked out of our house – yet to return. I think of it often when I pray for Daniel, wondering how such a promise could come true. For it has been nearly six long, hard years. And from what I know of my brother’s life, he has pursued a wide path over the narrow one every time.

The pastor of my church here in Texas has been preaching through the minor prophets on Sunday evenings. Last night he started on the book of Joel. I’ve read the book many times, but I never realized that verse 25 of chapter 2 ties back to verse 4 of chapter 1. In the ESV that verse reads:

What the cutting locust left, the swarming locust has eaten. What the swarming locust left, the hopping locust has eaten, and what the hopping locust left, the destroying locust has eaten.

Reading it in that version, it gave me the picture that what one locust did not eat, the next – worse – type came to eat, and then again and again until nothing was left in the land. God sent my great army (2:25) to completely destroy the land of His people. No food to eat, no crops to buy or sell, not even a blade of grass to run their bare feet through. Complete annihilation.

And from that I will restore to you the years that the locust hath eaten. In my limited mind, the very idea that complete destruction can be restored is beyond comprehension. For it isn’t just about going from nothing to everything. “Restore” denotes recovery and return as if the locusts had never swarmed at all. Try to get your mind around that.

Sometimes in life, it seems like God is after our complete destruction. Wouldn’t it be enough if the prodigal just ran away? Instead, he spends his living among harlots and riotous living. Or wasn’t it enough for Job to lose his livelihood and family? Did he have to lose his health, too? And yet…the prodigal returned and Job was given twice as much as he had before.

It’s very hard to see how completely destroyed years can be restored. But God can do it. We must trust Him…even if it takes a lifetime.

It's been one of those weeks full of wonderful things. For one, work was quiet. In fact, some days I was in the office all by myself. I accomplished everything on my "to-do" list. I shredded a whole box full of papers. I love weeks when I feel like I've really done something.

I wrote nearly three chapters in my book this week - a record since my move here to Texas. I have only two left to write, and about half the book to share with my critique group who really like it. It's great to get some time to write. And also time to map out the road trip my friend Jenny and I will be taking at the end of May. Got all our destinations set. Next week I'll book the hotels. Then we'll just need to plug in all the details. I can't wait! Civil War battlefields, new places to see, Southern plantations...it can't come too soon.

I housesat with Jenny as her family was gone (which means my boss was out of town). Change of pace, which is always nice. We watched North and South - one of my very favorite movies. We just laid around, chatted and were very grateful it rained both Thursday and Saturday night so we didn't have to water her mother's jungle.

Wednesday was "Professional Administrative Assistant's Day" and most of the nurses, the social worker and one of the chaplains took me out to lunch. Mexican food! Yummy! And gifts, too. Truly, I work with some amazing people and it is great to be a part of their lives.

When I got back to the Harris's on Wednesday evening, I checked the e-mail account I keep for contacts in my writing "career". I got an e-mail from the editor of Clubhouse (Focus on the Family's magazine for kids ages 7 to 9). They have accepted my quiz about brothers and sisters in the Bible. When I got back to Grandpa's today, the contract was waiting for me. I can hardly believe it!!!!!!!! My first step, I hope, into the world of publishing. A short story next maybe?

Last night Jenny and I went to see the play Cinderella at the local community theatre. It was very good, but I must say my favorite part was the two little girls sitting next to me. About three and four years of age, they came with their mother. They were dressed in flouncing pink "princess" dresses. During the play when one of the step sisters hit the other in the nose, the littler girl pointed to the stage and whispered loudly, "That one in the pink dress - she needs to say she's sorry!" Then, during the ball scene, they crawled from their seats and started dancing with each other in the empty aisle next to them. Adorable!

And today I got a bookshelf. Meaning I could get all the stacks of books off the floor here at my grandfather's. I just love bookshelves full of books...

Patriot's Day

For those of you who do not live in New England, you probably have no idea that today is Patriot’s Day. And, no, we’re not talking about a football team. Search way back into your elementary school history class and you might come up with the answer. Think “Shot Heard Around the World”.

I remember very clearly in my 4^th grade history book seeing in bold letters “The Shot Heard Around the World”. I thought, “Wow! That must have been some gun. Did everyone in the world really hear it?” I soon learned historians use that term to describe the start of a powerful war – war that changes history. And that is exactly what the American Revolution did.

On April 19, 1775 someone on the green of Lexington, Massachusetts fired a shot. Perhaps it was a British soldier, a man dressed in a redcoat who had marched all the way from Boston that night in order to obtain a store of munitions and gunpowder rumored to be kept in Concord. Most of the British soldiers in 1775 were sick and tired of America, the people, and the duty England demanded upon them. If they could, they deserted. Unfortunately for those stationed in Boston, desertion could be quite difficult – something akin to running away from an island as one could get into the city either by sea or by walking a cross a very narrow neck of land. It wouldn’t take much for one of them to shoot.

On the other hand, the American minutemen weren’t exactly even-tempered. Aroused from their beds late that night by Paul Revere and other riders, threatened by an invading army and tired of British tyranny – anyone of those men on the Lexington green that day could have fired a shot at a red coat. After all, what’s an easier target to see than that?

The most interesting hypothesis on that shot is that it was fired from a neighboring house. If you visit Lexington, you will find that the Green is surrounded by old, colonial homes all within easy shooting distance. Well, whoever fired that shot started something: the American Revolution.

And today is the 235^th anniversary of the Battles of Lexington and Concord. The beginning of the Revolution. The first in a chain of events that would lead to the birth of our grand nation under God. For the Americans would show the British that day both in Lexington and in Concord that they were not going to back down. They would have their freedom. They would send England packing. And even though it took another eight years to accomplish it all, that is exactly what happened.

And that, my friends, is the history of Patriot’s Day. It is a state-wide holiday in Massachusetts and Maine. Complete with a reenactment of the battles and march in the towns of Lexington and Concord. As for the remaining forty-eight states of this grand nation, the day will pass with hardly a moment of remembrance. And, if you ask me, that’s sad. For this nation wouldn’t have Memorial Day, the Fourth of July or Veteran’s Day if it didn’t first have Patriot’s Day. A day to remind us of what our forefathers did to give us the freedom we enjoy today.

Highlights of my Week

• I got things done!!!! For the first time in over a month, I actually felt like I accomplished things at work. I crossed out almost everything on my "to-do" list. I felt wonderful!
• I got a huge compliment at the writer's critique group I go to. Everyone there said I am a very strong writer. Glad they think so - I wonder.
• Something amazing happened in Texas: it rained!
• Those pink flowers along the interstate are not the pink version of bluebonnets. They're Indian paintbrush. Personally, though, I really miss lilacs - really, really miss them.
• I didn't have much to do today, so I spent the afternoon reading. You can't imagine how great that was!
• Planning a road trip - yea for road trips!
• Ending the week by sitting in the living room, watching "Bringing Up Baby". Why don't they make movies like that anymore?
  

Childhood Dreams

I just finished reading a book where the author spoke a lot about childhood dreams and accomplishing them. Had had fulfilled all but one of his. It got me to thinking: what were my childhood dreams? Have I fulfilled them?

• Being a teacher - well...sort of. I've been a tutor and taught kids at church, which I love!!!
• Seeing all the wonderful places my first grade teacher talked about: NYC, Philadelphia, Washington DC - yep!!!! NYC twice, Philadelphia once, Washington three times, but all of them could stand another visit...or two, or three, or four
• Being a wife and mother - obviously not...and can't do much about it
• Being a published writer - a work in progress? well, let's hope so
• Visiting England/British Isles - not yet, but I've been thinking a lot about that lately, so maybe its about time I did something about it
• Working at a camp - check, did that twice and LOVED it!

All in all, my childhood dreams aren't huge, exciting or even too hard to grasp. But they were very important to me. And they're still very important to me now. That's why I can remember them - and still work on accomplishing the ones I've yet to check off.

What were your childhood dreams? Have you fulfilled them? Think about it and enjoy the dream!

Last week, one of the chaplains at work came into the office and told me about a lady he's known at a nursing home he used to preach at on Sundays. In her late eighties, this woman went to be with her Savior about a week earlier. Much more an old maid than I often think I am, just days before she died she informed the directors of the nursing home:

"No man ever asked me out, and so no man is going to carry me out."

Interpretation: she wanted women pallbearers.

Like most "old maids", I imagine, most days I can give or take men. But for the past two weeks, it would have been great to have one around. For do you know how heavy bags of 3-cubic feet of mulch are? I'm not exactly sure myself, but they're heavy enough. I lugged six of them out of the back of my car and into the backyard. Today, I dumped three of them into a wheelbarrow (one at a time, I promise) and pushed it around the yard mulching the flowerbeds.

But, as it seems having a man around isn't in my near future, I guess I need to go for the next-best thing if the gardening around here continues like this: take up weight lifting.

A Life Without Children

Have you ever seen the movie Chitty Chitty Bang Bang? I think I was nine years old when I first saw it. My sister Katey and I spent the night at the house of two sisters. We all piled upon their parents’ king sized bed and watched a fun movie full of color, music and Dick van Dyke. But at the age of nine, you fail to see the lesson a movie like that can teach.

If you don’t know the story of Chitty Chitty Bang Bang one of the major parts of the story is a small country where children are outlawed. Because of this edict of the royal couple, the families in this nation hide their children underground. The village is quiet, sad and dark. As the heroine in the movie quickly observes, the problem is there are no children.

Lately my life has been like that. I can go through a whole day and not see one child. I live in a world of adults: adults at work, adults at home, adults in the neighborhood. And – quite frankly – it’s AWFUL. No laughter, no silly games, no imagination, no innocent view of the world, no sitting and chatting with them while we do craft projects. Everything is business, chores, work, politics, spreadsheets, responsibility and seriousness.

When you live in a world like that, every moment with a child is precious. On Saturday, my friend Jenny and I had her two brothers in the backseat of my car while we went to the grocery store and her office. Her littlest brother, age ten, sat back there eating sour straws. All of a sudden, we hear an “Uh-oh!” He had spilled his candy on the floor. A few moments later, he was informing us how wrong it was that two police officers in a car next to us were chatting away. After all, shouldn’t they be keeping an eye on the things in order to protect us from the evils of this world?

On Sunday, a little girl at church came up and gave me a hug. She’ll never know what that meant to me. And my nine-year-old cousin came with his parents for Easter dinner. He creamed me in Yahtzee, but I beat him in swordplay on the wii. We each won a round of bowling. And it was fun just to sit and watch him shoot hoops, play ping pong and bowl some more on my wii.

Now I know that kids are not all fun and games. Of course I don’t have any of my own, but I have my share of younger siblings. And except for a few years in my early twenties and today, I have taught kids on a weekly basis. I know something about the handful they can be. But the next time you want to get away from your kids before you scream, use that imagination from your childhood and seriously consider what your life would be without them. You’ll get a little idea of my life, and I guarantee you won’t like it. Then praise the Lord that He gave us children.

How Great is Absence?

The world is a complicated place. For humanity, it isn't all black and white. Worse, our grey areas differ. We face hardships in various ways. We respond to trials and joys from all ends of the spectrum. As Christians, though, we have to constantly ask ourselves how God sees things.

An Absence so Great is a book full of grey areas. Beautifully written by Jane Kirkpatrick, one cannot help being drawn into the fictionalized story of her own great-grandmother. Jessie Gaebele is a female photographer at the turn of the century, striving to make a name for herself and fulfill her dreams as an artist with a camera. And yet, she is constantly pulled back into emotions she cannot rid herself of.

Jessie lives a life in grey - and a life never fully devoted to her God. For while God matters, her dreams and emotions appear to matter more. For there is something much more important - and much, much harder - in life than following one's heart: Following God's heart.

Interested? Find it here: http://waterbrookmultnomah.com/catalog.php?isbn=9781578569816



This book was provided for review by Waterbrook Multnomah Publishers.