A day in Florence

Suddenly, our nation feels like a newborn...or at most, perhaps, a two month old infant.  Here in Florence, we're seeing all kinds of churches and buildings erected in the 12th, 13th, 14th, and 15th centuries.  Just yesterday when we learned of statues carved or slight changes made to the famous Duomo in the 1800's, it felt like current news.  Amazing how your perspective on age and history changes in light of such remarkably old beauty all around you.  

After a day-long walking tour of the city, my head is spinning with historical dates all the way back to Roman times and lovely-sounding Italian names I cannot pronounce and certainly could never spell.  All I can say is "Wow!"  

In one corner below, there was a building from the 12th century, one from the 13th, and another from the 14th, and a column from yet another...all within feet of  one another, happily coexisting.  All magnificent and strong.  

       You can't help but ponder what their lives, their families, their day to day existence must have been like.  Wonder if they ever in their wildest dreams imagined that centuries and centuries later, we would be staring in amazement at the places they lived and loved, worked and worried, laughed and cried?  After all, they were regular old folks like us in so many ways--with their own dreams and hopes, fears and foibles. They were just living their lives one day at a time, walking these very streets we now walk.  What a reminder--life is brief, eternity long, people and the Lord are what matter.  
        Everyday, we pretty much hit the ground running: touring, walking, and, of course, eating, from dawn to dusk.  Look up the definition of "a hole-in-the-wall" and you will find there our favorite panini place...located on a tiny side street in Florence.  It's the size of a closet, and you walk in, order your panini and watch them slice the meat and tomatoes right there, put them on the panini they baked that morning, slather on some goat cheese, and toast them in their ancient-looking oven.  Then voila, your sandwich is ready to go.  (And that's a good thing since not one table or chair could fit in this teeny, charming place.)  
        Forget the fancy-smancy meals...give me this panini every time!        

         And believe me, we needed the hearty nourishment, as our "One Glorious Day in Florence" walking tour was fabulous but EXHAUSTING!
        Geez, why is it so hard to stand for hours?  It's not like we were hiking multiple miles.  Nope, not at all.  There was actually very little walking involved.  We were seeing magnificent pieces of art and learning all about the amazing history of Florence (and loving every minute of it!), but we all thought our backs would fall off.  I took to leaning over and touching my toes behind the guide in the middle of the Uffizi gallery...all the while thinking what I really needed to do was lie down and take a teeny tiny little nap in the corner.
        I'm gonna shut up now, but just a little taste from this magnificent gallery--full of works by the likes of Michelangelo, Donatello, Giotto, and Raphael.  Truly takes your breath away (my, I'm mighty full of cliches today).

        Here are some masterpieces of a different kind in the Uffizi--

        They are laughing, because yours truly just looked out a window and banged my head on the glass.  Not that I was humiliated it or anything when the guide looked over at me, had a good laugh, and said loudly over his little microphone for the entire group to hear: "Whoa!  Are you alright?  How did you do that?"  Imagine the sound of widespread laughter.  Sigh.  So glad I could entertain everyone for a few moments and help them forget about their aching backs and swollen feet.

        I can't even remember what this was--Janie told me about 25 times, but what can I say?  Maybe it was the head smash on the window.  But the point is: it was really old, really magnificent, and even had the correct time
        Can you tell it's late at night?  Clearly, I need to call it a day.  Tomorrow, there are still miles to be walked, sculptures to be appreciated, paintings to be enjoyed, pasta to be devoured, gelato to be savored...and moments to be treasured.  Every single one of them.  Oh how thankful I am.  Thank You, Father.
        To God be the glory.

Cinque Terre--the ups and downs

        Hiking in Cinque Terre, Italy--

        We started off in the morning, fresh and ready to tackle the hikes between five beautiful little villages by the Mediterranean Sea.  A hot, sunny morning spent walking beside impossibly blue water.

That's from the trail, looking back down on our "hometown" of Monterosa.  Not that I'm biased or anything, but there's no doubt that Monterosa is totally the best!  
         The walk was lovely, if a bit vigorous at times, to the first two villages.  Both absolutely gorgeous.  At this point, we were still all smiles.  We loved Cinque Terre.  We loved hiking.  We loved it all.  Bring it on, baby!

On the third leg of the hike, things began to change.  Instead of a lovely hike by the sea, we found ourselves crawling up a steep mountain, sometimes heaving ourselves up the rocks.  "This cannot be right!" was repeated a number of times.  

"Has anybody seen the red and white markings for a while?"  Nope, a number of times we lost sight of the trail and had to backtrack--back down steep, rocky trails or crawling back up--till we spotted where we'd lost sight of the trail.  Ugh.  Finally, after climbing to the TOP of the mountain...the trail turned around to head straight back down the other side.   

And I mean down.  Down, down, down...with quads burning and conversation lagging.  

Till we finally hit the village...and lunch.  Hallelujah!  

We discovered that the regular trail between the 3rd and 4th villages had been washed out a few years ago and has been closed since 2011.  So this was the "alternate route"--for insane people.  Like us.  We saw, like, 4 people on the whole trail.  I'm not kidding. And most of them looked like they could compete for the Cross Fit olympics. And then there was us.  Geez. 

But we still had one village to go. Fortunately, this was the shortest and easiest leg--according to the very nice map at the bottom of the village.  Piece of cake.  

Well, not exactly.  We began another backbreaking, NON-family-fun crawl back up the blasted mountain.  Again, all the way to the top of the mountain.  What is the deal with this?  Can't they figure out an alternate trail that doesn't involve traversing the entire mountain?  And did I mention this was a LARGE mountain?

The view was lovely, however...but the village was mighty far away.  Sigh. 

We finally made it to the top of the mountain....but the bad news was, we had to go back down.  For us older folks, this was not welcome news.  I'd rather pull myself up rather than try to avoid killing myself falling down...not to mention my knees and quads were not to pleased about all this.   "I'm not loving Cinque Terre at the moment," I complained.  "Right now, I hate Cinque Terre," was all Janie said as we climbed down, down, down, down.   

We're what you call fair weather friends.

Anyway, turns out the last leg of the trail was also closed so only total maniacs would choose to hike the alternate route...well, maniacs and Fountains who don't know any better.  

The reward was, finally, more beauty.

I must say, I quoted my Aunt Janie about 100 times: "It's meant to be as tough as you can take it!"  

Aunt Janie would have been mighty proud--because it was TOUGH...but great.  

What a reminder that anything worthwhile inevitably requires sacrifice. And hard work.  And a perspective that keeps an eye on the prize.  And always, always a grateful heart.

So thank You, Lord, for the gift of another day...another mountain climbed...and, Lord willing, a fresh new start tomorrow to experience that Your mercies are new every morning.  

Now, where's the Advil?

To God be the glory.

Planes, trains, and automobiles

        Well, it's taken all of 22 hours.  Planes--
     

          Trains--

         And automobiles--

        But we're finally in Italy!  I guess anything really worthwhile always requires some effort, right?         So thankful for the incredible privilege and joy of visiting this beautiful country with our two girls. (And doubly thankful for my wonderful husband for holding down the fort while we enjoy this adventure!).
        We flew into Milan...took a nearly hour long cab drive to the train station...and then a three hour train ride to Monterosa (in Cinque Terre).  For the record, although my brain is mush from no sleep and lots of traveling, this place is absolutely gorgeous!  A beautiful coastline with brilliant blue water, rocky cliffs, and a charming little villages.  I simply cannot believe we are here!
        My girls, leading the way down a little path above the sea...and then the view from up top--

I'll shut up now, but I have just one more comment before my head hits the pillow.  If this old earth is just the tiniest little foretaste of heaven, can you even begin to imagine what the real deal will be like?  Wow.  Beauty everywhere, no sin to stain perfect holiness and righteousness, having eternity to share it all with people you love, and forever enjoying and basking in the glory and love of the Savior who is our joy. 

Thank You, Father.  Thank You.  Thank You for love.  Thank You for beauty.  Thank You for allowing us to enjoy Your gifts and to share them with those we love.  A shared joy is quadrupled!   Thank You for this day, this moment.  Thank You that as beautiful as this old earth is--and as hard sometimes, too--this world is not our home.  Thank You for the promise and hope of heaven.  

And Lord, thank You for Italy!  

To God be the glory.

A lesson from a remembered moment

        When we turned the page on our photo calendar, here was the picture for July...with yet another reminder of God's faithfulness in this often crazy, mixed-up world.

        This moment is seared in my memory.  Preyer staring out at the magnificent Pacific Ocean in the middle of a golf tournament...and me, all wound up tight with nerves and thinking, "Oh no!  He's hit the ball off the cliff into the ocean!"  Disaster...despair...horror..."the kingdom is lost!"
         Yeah, right.  This is a game, remember?
         I called over to him, steeling myself for the terrible news and preparing to help him look for his ball (which, naturally, would be an absolute cinch to find in the middle of the Pacific Ocean).
         His response: "I'm just enjoying the beauty of God's creation."  The ball wasn't lost...just my perspective.
        And my son?  He schooled his mama that day.  He might not have been playing his best, but he was enjoying the present moment, appreciating the glory all around him, and contemplating the Author, Giver and Sustainer of all that glory.
        Oh Father, how many moments have I wasted in worry?  How many times have I missed the gift of the never-to-repeated "precious present?"  How often have I missed an opportunity to worship my Savior and Redeemer in the everyday mundane moments of life, because I've been too preoccupied or distracted by the "cares of life?"  And how many opportunities have I forfeited to truly savor and enjoy the people that I love...again because of busyness or tiredness or fearfulness?
         Forgive Your forgetful child, Abba.  And thank You for Your glorious grace and tender mercies that are indeed, "new every morning." (Lam.3:23)
         "Every good and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change." (James 1:17)
          In other words--it's ALL from our Father!  The gift of the present moment.  The glory of every single created thing not only on the earth but in the heavens.  And the joy and astounding wonder that the Creator, Giver, and Sustainer of every single bit of it, is our God.  Our Savior.  And He lives within us--His Holy Spirit guiding, teaching, directing, reminding (oh boy, do I need that one!), convicting, encouraging, equipping, empowering...and doing it all to the glory of the Son.
         Thank You, Father, thank You.  Might we live this day, this very moment, savoring the gifts You have given us, seeing the Savior behind every one of those gifts, and seeking to glorify You in every one of those moments--whether mundane or momentous, peaceful or stressful.
         We choose this day to worship You rather than worry.  For You are infinitely and eternally worthy.
         To God be the glory.

Like Nehemiah--keep building!

                             
        I've been reading through the Old Testament book of Nehemiah the last few weeks in preparation for a Bible study this fall.  Wow, what a book for our times.  I'm reminded once again how incredibly timeless and perfectly relevant God's Word is.  The Bible speaks to us at every age and stage of our lives, and it's as fresh, important, and powerful today as the moment God spoke His words into existence.
        Nehemiah faced an impossible task--rebuilding the broken-down walls of Jerusalem.  His people suffering in exile.  Their capital city a ruined shell.  I won't go into the remarkable story right now, but the point that kept coming back to me was that Nehemiah could have focused on the enormity of the task, the inadequacy of the people, the relentlessness of the opposition...and despaired.  Or he could have turned away in indifference and returned to his comfortable life in the palace as the king's cupbearer.   Or he surely could have easily fallen prey to doubt, worry, frustration, fear.
        But he didn't.  You know why?  Because Nehemiah fixed his eyes upon the size and power of his Almighty God rather than the size of his problem.  Nehemiah was focused on all the myriad resources he possessed in His Lord rather than obsessing over what he lacked or over his weaknesses.
       Do we do that?
       Do we recognize the enormity of all that we have--and who we are--in Christ or are we simply preoccupied with the ways we fall short, what we can't do, or how we can't change?  Are we focused on ourselves and our resources...or our Savior and Redeemer?
      Ouch.  I needed that reminder, because all too often my focus is on my little rather than Jesus' limitless.        
       On my itsy-bitsy abilities rather than Jesus' infinite and awesome ability.
       On myself rather than my Savior.  Oh forgive me, Father.
       We tend to forget, don't we, that He is able.  Our Lord "is able to do far more abundantly than all we ask or think, according to the power at work within us..." (Eph.3:20)
        Yes, it's us working...but it's HIM supplying all the power, all the ability, all the resources.  He does what we cannot do...but He will not do what we must and should do.  It's us...but it's Him.
        Here's how Colossians puts it: "For this I toil, struggling with all His energy that He powerfully works within me." (1:29)  We toil, we struggle...but with His energy, His power that He works within us.
        Paul David Tripp says that "You and I have no natural abilities to rise and do what God calls us to do, [Amen!] but He refuses to leave us to our resources.  He is not so unwise, unkind, or unfaithful as to ever call us to a task without enabling us to do it...You see, what 2 Peter 1:3 says is really true: we have been given everything we need for life and godliness.  The God who calls us to a radical new way of living meets us with radical empowering grace.  Have courage.  Be active.  Your Savior really is your strength."
       So today, if you're facing an impossible task--whether it's to love the unlovable, forgive the unforgivable, do the undoable, hope when it feels hopeless, or simply overcome inertia and exhaustion and do whatever that next thing God's called you to do--remember you're not on your own.  It's not just you doing the best you can.  It's not just you and your paltry little resources and abilities.  Nope, it's Almighty God working beside, outside, and inside you.
       It's you taking that baby step...but it's really Him carrying you all the way home.
       It's you toiling...but it's Him energizing, empowering, and working.
       We are not alone...not ever.  And one plus God is always an overwhelming majority.
       So like Nehemiah...don't quit.  Don't stop.  Keep focusing on the Savior, keep building, and trust that the Almighty will do supernatural.  
       To God be the glory.

Grumbling--or remembering and reading?

         Can I just say for the record that it is unbelievably hot here?  This is what the heat can do to you after you take a walk--

(Mr. B--out for the count ever since this morning--and it's now mid afternoon.)

        Yes, it's hot.  I started to say "ridiculously hot," but decided against it.  Why?  Because I'm so tired of hearing others (and myself) complain about the heat and the weather.  Are we all suffering from amnesia?  Does anyone remember the February horribilis we just suffered through?  Snow, sleet, ice, frigid cold, school closed, numb fingers, broken bones, grey, dreary...

        Ring any bells, anyone?   

        Sure, it's a wee bit toasty right now, but good grief, we're a people so prone to grumbling.  Grumble about the weather...grumble about the traffic...grumble about the slowness of the grocery store line...grumble about the challenges of technology (guilty as charged)...grumble about the stresses of parenting...grumble about busyness...grumble about our children leaving home and moving away (sigh)...and on and on it goes.  

         Forgive us Father.  Remind us anew of Your faithfulness...not just the "biggies" but the daily, "small," continual examples of Your astounding and underserved goodness.  You daily graces--the sun rose again...the flash of the bright red cardinal...food to eat...people to love...green, leafy trees...another breath...and, wow, another one--that I do not deserve and could never create on my own.  

         This reminded me of something I read a few weeks back when I opened the Daily Light and read these familiar words: "Ebenezer...'Thus far the Lord has helped us.'" (I Sam.7:12)  

         A verse not just about God's faithfulness, but also about consciously remembering that faithfulness.  As I read those words, I was suddenly transported...back to Janie's ICU room and the little rock our dear friend, Beth Page, gave us.  

       A little black rock with those words written on them: "Hitherto hath the Lord helped us."  It still sits right here on our kitchen counter, so that every single day--when I'm tempted to whine and complain...or fear and fuss...or doubt and even despair--I'll suddenly be tangibly reminded-- 

        Of our God's extraordinary faithfulness.  His remarkable goodness.  His unending mercies.  His relentless grace.  His never-ever-ending presence and promise never to leave us nor forsake us.  

        For in remembering and rehearsing who our Lord is and what He has done, He encourages and empowers us to trust and to know that He will not fail us today...or tomorrow...or next year...or ever.  

       So how do we do that?  We have to be reminded again and again--in His Word, by our friends,  in our worship, by our prayers, even with some ebenezer like our little black rock.  Because in case you haven't figured it out, we're all of us mighty good forgetters!  

        Because here's the thing--we might speak of God's faithfulness with our lips, but do we really meditate on it in our hearts and minds?   

        Do we consciously remember the times He's come through for us in the past?  Do we go back and delve into His Word and see the myriad ways He's redeemed and restored His often faithless, ill-deserving chosen people, the Israelites...and us?  Do we open up our Bibles to search for, focus upon, and even memorize His multiple promises of rock-solid faithfulness, never-ending love, all-encompassing grace, forever-enabling provision?  

       If we want to remember, we need to read His Word.  If we want to kill our sin, we need to claim His promises.  If we want to replace our grumbling, fearfulness, and selfishness with thankfulness, peace, and generosity, we need to run to His eternal, supernatural words.  

       The Lord Jesus is our Anchor in the storm.  And His Word is the rope that pulls that Anchor close to our troubled hearts and anxious minds.  I struggle to explain what His Word has been to me in the storms of life, but I guess one inadequate description is the Bible puts skin on the face of Jesus and puts His flesh-and-blood body beside me, right beside me, in the midst of even the fiercest gale.

       As I've shared so many times, I learned this in a tangible, real, "Ebenezer" way as I sat beside Janie's bedside in the middle of the night in a tiny ICU room.  The whooshing sounds of her respirator and beeping heart monitor, the blinking lights of machines all around her bed were the only light in the room.

       Had you peered in the room, you might have assumed it was just Janie and me...but it wasn't.  Oh my, it most definitely was not!        

       The presence of the Almighty One was thick in the room.  Truly, I knew, knew, knew He was there.  Strengthening.  Helping.  Empowering.  Enveloping with His love, power, peace.  I will never, ever forget it as long as I live.

       And during every one of those long "night watches," I would open His Word...and Jesus would speak.  It was if He had written and spoken these words just moments before--all so fresh and reviving to my hungry, desperate heart.  Sometimes I would look around in amazement...for He was right there, breathing out His Word, warm, wonderful, and healing.  

       What a Savior...and what a Word.

       I'll be quiet now, except to add: that's what He will do for every one of us if we'll open His Word.  Wherever you are, whatever you've done or not done...He's here right now, ready and waiting.  The Creator and Sustainer of the universe will whisper strength right into your heart with His life-sustaining, hope-giving, faith-filling words of comfort, understanding, hope, wisdom, forgiveness, and power.

       Oh might we open His Book and be filled.  

       Remember the Redeemer and His Word to be restored and revived. 

       To God be the glory.

Feelings, fog, and our faithful Father

      Aren't you thankful our God's faithfulness does not depend on our feelings?
      Boy, I am.  The last few days, here's how I've been feeling--

 That's the view off our mountain porch a few weeks ago--fog and rain, grey and blank.
        It's been a hard, prolonged season of waiting and waiting...and of seeing a number of prayers seemingly going unanswered.  Well, let me correct that: of seeing God answer some prayers with "No" (which we struggle with, because, of course, we assume we have the ideal plan) and other prayers with the apparent answer of "Not yet."
        Funny, when we're sad and struggling because God's not healing the folks we praying for...or restoring the relationships and prodigals we're interceding for...or giving relief to the pain--physical or emotional--for the loved ones that we're asking for...we tend to forget or ignore all the countless prayers He has answered with a resounding, astounding "Yes!"  That miraculous healing, that gift of encouragement at just the right moment, that consoling presence of a person we love, that beautiful morning walk, that hymn of praise, that deliverance from sin, that very next breath.
        Forgive us, forgive me, Father, for my shockingly short memory for the infinite number of ways You've been so good to us and for our (my) ridiculous ingratitude.
        And yet, despite our moments of confusion or doubt or frustration with the painful waiting times, our Lord still loves us just the same, adores us just as much as when we're full of confident faith and joyful hope.  Incredible.          
        His perfect love never, ever waivers...even when we do.  And His extravagant grace and joy in us never diminishes even one tiny iota...even when our feeble faith feels weak and weary.
        Oh how thankful I am that He is faithful even when we are faithless, for as His forever-faithful Word says, "If we are faithless, He remains faithful--for He cannot deny Himself." (2Tim.2:13)  He knows that when we look at life and only feel and see a grey and blank fogginess, He is still there...still working and moving, sovereign and good.
       Yes, it might appear grey and foggy, but the true, real reality is that this is what's actually out there, just momentarily blocked by our emotions--

      Tim Keller says that "Faith is not primarily a function of how you feel.  Faith is living out, trusting, and believing what truth is despite how you feel."  Yes!
       And here's what we know--God is great.  And He is good. And He is sovereign.  And He always answers our prayers in what He knows is the best and most perfect way (even when we cannot see it or understand it.  He does, and that's enough.)  And He will never, ever leave us nor forsake us...even on our worst days or our foggiest, greyest, weakest moments.
       Just this morning, He reminded me of all this in His Word--
                   "Why do you say, O Jacob, and speak, O Israel, 'My way is hidden from the Lord, and my right is disregarded by my God'?  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 to him who has no might He increases strength.  Even youths shall faint and grow weary; and young men shall fall exhausted; but they 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." (Isa. 40: 27-31)
         Oh how I praise Him for His beautiful, powerful, supernatural Word!
        I don't know what prolonged siege of waiting on God you might be enduring right now, but His Word reminds us that He is here; He is infinite and eternal;  He is the awesome Creator; He is always at work; He is supremely powerful; He is in complete control; He is redeeming, restoring, and lifting up His own; He is infinitely good and faithful; and He is worthy of all our waiting and wondering.  
        Don't be guided by your feelings, but allow your faith to be shaped by the Truth of who our God is and what He is doing.
       He is, even now, making all things new--things we can see...and things we cannot.  And we will trust Him.

           There's always a new day dawning with our Lord.  Give us more faith, Father.  We love You.
           To God be the glory.