Nov 28, 2012

Hope, Meet Miracle.

Soon the river that runs behind my brother's house in the Midwest will be frozen solid.  Visiting for the holidays, I found myself wishing the calendar said spring already.  

Instead...barrenness. 

Still, it was almost as if the bright winter light held a message.  Wait.  Something new is coming...at the right time. 

When you've waited a long time - years, decades - for a dream to be fulfilled, that place in your heart eventually starts to feel desolate.  

Maybe, like me, you've waited for a spouse.  Barren.  

Or a breakthrough.  Barren.  

Or a child.  Barren. 

And yet...hope holds on.

I'm not one of those "name it and claim it" Christians.  Faith is no guarantee every desire will be fulfilled.  But there are some that carry a promise; those ones will come to pass.  At the right time.

But how do you know beyond a shadow of a doubt whether a dream is a mere yearning or a sealed promise from God?

At the river bank, I see a glimpse past the barrenness - to spring; forests teeming with new life.  And somehow I know, again, that I'm standing on a promise.  There is a peace that comes when you trust a matter is settled in heaven.  

And you know an introduction is about to be made.  Hope, meet miracle.

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Nov 2, 2012

Mean Girls

Lindsay Lohan star of "Mean Girls."  Photo:  Humza 
A talent agent told me I come off too sweet. "Too 'pink,' not enough flavor," she said. "We need to see the naughty in you."

I can hear my childhood friends roaring with laughter.  I was a mean girl long before Lindsay Lohan.  

The trouble started in 1st grade with a new kid at school.  He  didn't fit in wearing Sunday clothes to school.  He cut in line at recess. I punched him.  He socked me in the eye.

By 4th grade I'd moved on to bullying - teachers. "Hey, guppy lips!"  I taunted one who had a mouth like Mick Jagger.  

Another time Mrs. L. broke down in tears as I led a class revolt against 'the witch.' 

By high school I was hanging out with a crew of misfits who cut class and drank Mickey's in the park. 

Despite the trouble, A's came easy.  "You're going to college," my dad insisted, shipping me off to the Ivy League with the warning, "I don't do bail once you're 18."   

Later as a crime reporter, I confronted killers, gang members, sleazy politicians, with the steeliness of a true mean girl. 

Yet God - radical love - had somehow begun to pierce a hardened heart. 

Too sweet? A friend put it best: "When you're looking for a brand of 'edgy' that is filled with desperation, despondency, depression and dejection and encounter a different brand of edgy filled with love, joy and peace it's difficult to deal with." 


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