On this Valentine's Day, I'm thankful that my Valentine has written a blog. Here are Lisa's reflections on "being conformed":

A friend gave us some plants a while ago. It was very thoughtful of her and they are nice plants. This was maybe 6 months ago. For about 4 months the plants were in jars of water – the original containers. I really can’t believe that they survived. Don’t get me wrong – I like plants. I just forget about their basic needs, and they die. I never have had a green thumb. Of course, that’s rather obvious to you by now. Well, a couple of months ago we finally got planters. I think I was more excited about the planters than the plants...fun colors and shapes. Then, around Christmas-time, Noel got me a bag of dirt. As you can tell, this has been quite an on ongoing process. I was so happy that my little plants would be in dirt after 6+ months of being root-bound in jars of water. I separated the entangled roots, and Daniel helped with the planting. We had fun. I must say, it is nice to have something green in the apartment. We don’t see much green during these bitter cold winter months. And these little plants are staying alive. Whoa...BeeGees flashback.

Well, about a week ago, early one morning, Noel was studying in the living room when he heard a loud “pop” in the kitchen. As he told me about the sound he heard, I thought for sure we left a soda or some container of something on our porch. The porch becomes an extended freezer in the winter. It’s fun to be able to set a bottle of soda out on the porch before a meal for a quick cool-down. I thought we had forgotten to bring something in from the cold and it exploded. Well, something had exploded – my cute little yellow planter.


I’m not a scientist, but Noel is. He figures it’s something in the formulation of the plastic that caused the explosion. The plastic burst under the pressure of the form it was originally forced into. When it was molded, the shape put stress in certain places on the pot. Does that make sense? It does to me, but I definitely don’t understand completely. I’ve had pots that have lasted for years. These pots are brand new. We also noticed that my cute little green planter had cracked. I mean the whole corner busted out, and there is a huge crack running along the bottom of the pot.

Now I’ve found myself checking the orange planter in our bedroom fairly often, but there are no cracks yet. I’m guessing that it will happen at 2 a.m. in the morning and shoot us out of the bed.

I’ve been thinking about how the Lord is molding me into what He wants me to be. You know, there are spiritual lessons in so many things depending on the angle we take. Ultimately, He’s making me more like His Son. And that is exactly what I say I want. Most times I think I just talk a good line. Truth is, this shaping process is continuous – daily – and sometimes that process is extremely painful. I’m shaped by His Hands and it hurts.

So I ask, “Why?” and He says, “Trust and obey.” (Proverbs 3:5-6, John 14:23-24)

I say, “I’m scared!” and He says, “Have faith in Me.” (Matthew 8:26)

I say, “I’m weak.” and He says, “My grace is enough.” (2 Corinthians 12:9)

I say I believe all of this, but most times my actions don’t follow.

We have friends, here and in the states, who are in that painful “What-are-You-doing-God?” season of life. I pray. I give a hug. Sometimes words seem so empty. I step back and realize that I’m trying to sound holy or act like I know exactly what they are going through. Truth is, I can’t always identify with these friends. I don’t have a clue what they are dealing with. More often than not, they are an example to me. The Lord is very gracious to allow their response to trials as an example to me of the way He longs for me to respond. I have so much to learn.

During those “dark night of the soul” times, I need to run to the Truth and let it smack me upside the head. The Truth really is the only thing that matters.

Some of those Truths are:

- God is God.
- He will accomplish His purposes for His glory.
- He is sovereign.
- There has never been (and never will be) a circumstance that took Him by surprise.
- He’s conforming me to the likeness of His Son. (Romans 8:28-29)
- This life that I have been given is a gift, but I can waste my days believing lies.

These times are for His glory, my good, and He is working them all together for good because He loves me more than I could ever comprehend. Truth.

My cute little planters exploded under pressure. Sometimes I do the same thing. I need to come back to His word and His Truth and His promises in every situation I face and remind myself that He is conforming me to what HE wants.

As you can see, we’ve tried to “conform” my yellow planter with some duct tape...


~Blessings

Lisa wrote a blog the other day--actually, it was probably about a week ago--but I'm just now getting around to posting it. With the end of the semester bearing down on us, things have been incredibly busy. In addition, our Internet connection at home has been "playing hide and seek" lately. In the midst of all this, I know that communication is more important than ever. I love the way the Lord works through Lisa to help refocus our family's priorities. I hope you find her post as encouraging as I did:

Today was a beautiful, crisp, sunny Thursday. It snowed overnight so everything had a fresh layer of white this morning. I mentioned to the kids that we might walk to Sky Department Store. Long underwear, boots, coats, and walking down the riverbed made the prospect of a regular ol’ walk to the store more of an adventure. Daniel was more than willing to join me.

Sky Department Store is about ½ mile from our apartment. It’s actually kind of like a mall with some other shops and a salon in addition to the main store. Fancy. Sky has diapers, white boards, shoes, cosmetics, tools, and a big grocery store. Sky is pricey. You can tell Sky is pricey just walking through the parking lot. We saw a Hummer, a Mercedes and several Land Cruisers. Today we were headed to Sky to get peanut butter. Yep, just peanut butter. There are some places here that just have certain things and you go, not necessarily because you want to, but out of necessity. Peanut butter is expensive everywhere here in UB, so when I saw a jar of Skippy Super Chunk at Sky for a not-so-bad price the last time we were there, I thought we would just walk down today and get a jar. The key phrase in that last sentence is “last time we were there.” They didn’t have Skippy Super Chunk today. Wow, I read through that last paragraph and think, “Oh, the hardships! No Skippy!” We don’t have a clue about hardships. Anyway, all that to say that sometimes the inconsistency when it comes to the consistent availability of items at the grocery store is a tad frustrating. Daniel and I got a few things at Sky since we were there and then we headed home. Daniel got to walk along the riverbed again, so he was happy. As we walked home, I thought about those “here today, gone tomorrow” items in our shopping experiences.

As we got closer to our apartment building, I heard someone holler from across the river. It was "B." He hollered at Daniel and came running across the frozen riverbed. “B” grabbed Daniel around the neck and gave him a hug. I wish I had had my camera. “B” is 14 (at least we think he is 14…we still can’t get a clear answer on his age!) and lives in a ger near our apartment building. He lives with his parents and 2 brothers. It seems like we have always known ”B”. He’s just that kind of kid. He always seems to have a smile. He’d be more than happy to play basketball or soccer with our crew any day of the week. In fact, we’ve given him 3 soccer balls – he is pretty hard on soccer balls. A couple of months ago, “B” started coming to church with us. He’s been pretty consistent too. He kind of shared his testimony at church one Sunday a while back. Seems he can’t believe in just Jesus. He was given the spirit of his great, great grandfather by a shaman. “B” believes he has to have a mix of beliefs. Pray for him. Last Sunday, as we were heading out to church, “B” met us at the entrance to our apartment to let us know that he wouldn’t be able to come with us. Yes, a 14 year-old boy up at 8:30 on a Sunday morning to make sure we knew that he couldn’t come to church. Wow.

Then I thought of some other things that are consistent here. When I think about it, most of the consistencies have to do with faces we see each day. There’s Sarah, the Mongolian veggie lady at Nomin, who always lets me pick the freshest carrots from a big bag under the produce table. And then she lets me in on the scoop about the freshest cucumbers. I love her smile. There’s Arti, a lady from India who works at another store. I just found out her name and I don’t know her story yet, but we’ve started talking each time I shop. Last time she asked me when we celebrate Thanksgiving. She’s so sweet and she always reminds the cashier that I don’t need a bag ‘cause I bring my own. There’s the Mongolian guard guy at the nearby Russian school. He doesn’t much like the “American kids” playing down at the track, but these days we get a “Hello” rather than a scowl. He recently had some type of surgery on his leg or hip. We were all concerned about his recovery, but he is really doing well. We made him some cookies.

There are a lot of other faces that bring names to mind and sometimes I don’t know names at all. And sometimes it’s a situation kind of thing that just involves me or our family, but the faces and situations are consistent…daily. I need to be reminded of these precious faces and divine appointments. These things that the Lord uses to make me more like Jesus. Yes, I’m sure that when there is no water in the apartment, He is using that to shape me. And I’m sure that when I see the guard guy smile, He is using that to encourage me (and hopefully my smile back to encourage the guard guy). The daily consistencies (and inconsistencies that I see more as inconveniences and aggravations) are all part of the things God is using to work together for my good. (Romans 8:28) And MY daily inconsistencies when it comes to emotions and obedience and thankfulness and reminding to give Him the glory in everything are always staring me in the face.

I’m so very thankful that God is consistent. He never changes. He is the same as He was yesterday, and He is the same today. And I’m thankful that He will be that way forever. (Malachi 3:6, Hebrews 13:8)

And, by the way, this morning we have hot water, good water pressure AND an internet connection.

Nice. Happy Thanksgiving!

With the busyness of the semester, I’ve been doing well to write a blog once or twice a month, yet here I find myself writing for the second time this week. Nothing profound or insightful has happened. Much of the time the most interesting elements of life are to be found in the daily routine. Have you ever noticed how a child can find wonder in almost everything? My 5-year old and I may walk over the same pebbles. I’m busy headed to some destination, but Joseph wants to pick up 5 smooth stones and be like David with Goliath. Or maybe he turns over a rock and finds a whole new society of bugs. For most adults, the ability to wonder disappears as we grow familiar with our surroundings and replace childlike curiosity with the adult goals of beauty and success. We are not strong enough to exult in monotony. It reminds me of one of my favorite G.K. Chesterton quotes:

"A child kicks its legs rhythmically through excess, not absence, of life. Because children have abounding vitality, because they are in spirit fierce and free, therefore they want things repeated and unchanged. They always say, "Do it again"; and the grown-up person does it again until he is nearly dead. For grown-up people are not strong enough to exult in monotony. But perhaps God is strong enough... It is possible that God says every morning, "Do it again," to the sun; and every evening, "Do it again," to the moon. It may not be automatic necessity that makes all daisies alike: it may be that God makes every daisy separately, but has never got tired of making them. It may be that He has the eternal appetite of infancy; for we have sinned and grown old, and our Father is younger than we."

Anyway, this long introduction is simply a lead in to telling you about my commute to work this morning. As I mentioned in my last blog, I usually ride to work in a micro, and lately these are packed even on the first run of the morning.

The truth is that we human beings like things to be consistent and predictable. Driving your car to work is predictable—at least as long as it starts, and has enough gas, and you don’t get caught in traffic, but I think you understand my point. Well, riding in a micro is anything but predictable. Everything is up for grabs. Sometimes the dynamic between the driver and the person collecting the money will add to the ride’s entertainment…or it’s discomfort. Likewise, the condition of the van itself can make the trip interesting: windows that won’t close, holes in the floorboard covered with wood or vinyl, broken door handles, 15 year old seats recovered who knows how many times that are badly in need of a wash.

This morning was another first for me. I noticed when the micro stopped that it was already full of policemen. Based on their ages, I assume these “kids” were on their way to the academy for training. They only reluctantly added some passengers at my stop. I don’t know if I can describe it adequately. I was sitting on the axle hump, which is located behind the front passenger seat. It’s basically the space between the front seats and the first of the rear seats. Usually they will try to squeeze 4 people into the space, but with my long legs, we were only able to get 3 in there this morning.

I knew something was different when I didn’t see anyone collecting money. It turns out one of the policeman was doing this—maybe he was friends with the driver. I was actually sitting in the seat the money collector usually occupies. By the way, the guy who takes the money is also responsible for opening and closing the van door at the stops. I picked up the job this morning since I was in the obvious seat to do this.

I was feeling rather proud of myself for fitting right in. You know the Bible has a lot of warnings against pride. Well, mine didn't last long. The next passenger who got in tried to give me her fare. There I was without a clue of what to say in Mongolian. So I poked the policeman and pointed to the money. Then the guy sitting next to me tried to strike up a conversation. I’m guessing he was able to overcome the usual Mongolian reticence because of a recent intake of vodka—or at least that’s what it smelled like to me. Regardless, I was again clueless for how to respond except to tell him that my Mongolian was very bad and I didn’t understand what he was saying.

Thankfully, by this time we had reached my stop, and I exited the van both humbled and chuckling at the how many interesting things had happened in only 10 minutes. Who needs television when you can ride a micro?

~Blessings