It was over- JUDAS

This was it. The final time I would be made a fool of. Letting a woman, an unclean, lower, inferior woman not just touch you but dump an obscene amount of nard comparable to liquid gold on Jesus and the dust covered ground which he laid.. Makes me sick. I could feel the shaking start from the pit of my stomach.My one arm began to twitch. The pain deep into my head felt like claws dragging against my skull. Whenever I would revisit the idea about what should be done, I never felt alone. At first it was comforting in a weird way. It wasn't a person but more like a pulse. An awareness. Of course no one else had this gift because that were too busy picking up leftover bread and healing people who don't even deserve a second look. We can help just as many rich ones as the poor ones. And the riches ones we could collect a fee from. Then we would be getting somewhere.

Jesus galloping through city after city while throwing out the Roman occupation. That is what strength looks like. Power and control. I feel the darkness on my left side. I don't dare look. "It's time," the voice said to me. I wish I could place the voice or rather sound. It's almost like no language at all. No one else hears this. Jesus looks at me a few times with a tensed jaw and wet eyes. He knows.

I went to find the chief priests and the officers of the temple guard. Again, darkness clouded my vision. I blinked. Once. Twice. An officer walked up to me with a glint in his eye that promised violence. My mouth curled in a sneer. "You are looking to condemn the teacher Jesus. I am here to discuss terms." The quiet discussions in front of us stopped. "You are one of His?" an old gnarled hand pointed. "I am no ones. I belong to myself. I decide my own fate." A dark chuckle echoed behind me. "What do you want for your services." "I want only what is owed to me," I whispered into the inky black.

Thirty pieces of silver. The price for a slave. Not nearly enough for all of my wasted time. My wasted life. But I wanted this to be over. I needed it to be over. Maybe once this was finished I could sleep again. Nightmares would no longer flood my mind and seep into my soul.

The last meal we had together I kept my hands low to hide the shaking. I spoke to no one. No one noticed. Almost no one. He noticed. There was something in His eyes when He looked at me. An overwhelming sadness. No judgement or guilt. no questions or accusations. Just sorrow. Then it was over. I knew where they would go. I would end this tonight.

The garden was black. Something was wrong. This darkness was not an earthly darkness. The shadows moved of their own accord. It crept like a creature along the ground and slithered along the path. Something inside me screamed to stop. But I couldn't. I wouldn't. This was my choice. My destiny.

I saw Him. Although He didn't look my way, I knew He was aware the moment we had arrived. Almost like He was waiting. The darkness would not approach Him. It circled and pulsed. As He walked forward, it would skulk backwards. It winded backwards to me. It twisted up my legs and settled into my stomach. Through my chest and pain seared in my head. I wanted to scream, but I couldn't. I kept walking.

I told myself He deserved this. He misled me and thousands of loyal followers. By not saving us by the sword, He condemns us to slavery and death. No! He deserves death. This nonsense of grace and mercy. Why be part of a mission that was doomed to failure. That's exactly what all of this will come to. That's exactly what His death will be. His ultimate failure.

"Greetings Rabbi," as I sealed our fate with a kiss to the side of His face. I quickly backed up and tried to gasp. There was no air, and I was choking. Darkness was here. Shrieking, clanging of swords, and unearthly roars of victory. Pain seared through my head and dropped me to my knees. Finally, as they led him away I gasped. At first, the world was silent. Then it was empty. A deep pit that not even the darkness would fill. I had betrayed Him. No. This is wrong. I was wrong! He is good! He is our only hope! What if He was who He said He was?

I ran into the temple shadows until I found them. "I have sinned. I have betrayed and innocent man!" Soft steps approached me. At first I thought I saw mercy. Then I looked deep into the eyes that seemed to hold no soul. Like looking into a mirror of emptiness. "That is your problem." I took the coin bag and threw it across the temple floor. The sound shattered the stillness. Clang, clang, clang. I watched the final coin spin impossibly long, as if it hovered while waiting. Then it fell. It was over. Nothing could save me now. I had turned my back on my salvation. I had chose this path, and I would finish it. I would not ask for lenience. I would not ask for forgiveness. I deserved my fate. I walked out of the temple. The darkness covered me. It was over.

Maybe I was wrong?- Mary Magdelene

I hung back. The crowds were screaming. Feet stomping dirt up into the air.  The people had picked up palm branches and were waving them. "Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord! Blessed is the King of Israel!" In one giant wave, the crowd flowed on while I hung back. I bent over and picked up one of the branches they had laid in His path. Crushed and trampled. Broken and Bruised. I drug the plam down the inside of my hand and a thin river of blood mixed with my blood and sweat. Maybe I was wrong? Maybe I had misunderstood?

I hid in shadows and in the crowds. I listened to what the people were saying. One man shouted, "Did you hear? This is Jesus! The man who raised Lazarus from the dead!" A second man exclaimed, "Here He comes into the Holy city! He will do it, this one! He will deliver us from our oppression of the Romans!" The first man wiped at his sweaty brow. The excitement radiating out of his face.  "Indeed! Surely a man who does wonders such as himself will find the role of King quite fitting!" They laughed . Their hope opened up from all to see.

As they walked away, I realized I was holding my breath. I thought back to one of the first times I sat at Jesus's feet. I knew I shouldn't. It wasn't proper. It wasn't where I was suppose to be. But...but there was something about His voice. When He spoke it felt like a breeze on a hot summer day or a rain after the drought. Everything He said I stored away. Had He ever mentioned overthrowing the rulers? Of taking the place of King of our people to lead us out from Rome? No. He had not. I was sure of it.

I pushed closer to the chaos. Another man, this one young and strong, grabbed hold of the older man in front of him. "Did you hear? This Jesus rose a man from the dead!" The older man shook his hand from him and he scoffed. "If I were you I wouldn't put a lot of faith into such fairytales."

But Mary knew. The pain sliced through her chest as she remembered.She remembered.  Nothing in her life had cut her as deep as her brother's death.

As he struggled to breath I begged him, "Just hang on brother! He is coming! He will save you!" I knew it! I believed it more than I had ever believed in anything before. Then Lazarus stopped breathing. It was like the world suddenly went dark. I couldn't see or breathe. I collapsed. I remember waking up in my bed and staring at the ceiling. He hadn't come, and Lazarus was dead.

I was sitting at the table staring at the very place I had sat at the teacher's feet. How could I have been so wrong? All of the sudden people were yelling that Jesus was here. Martha took off in a run. I couldn't bring myself to stand. He was too late.

The master has asked for you Martha had said. At those words, my soul shattered. I stood up and ran .When I saw Him, my knees gave out and I fell at His feet. The place where at one time I had found hope and peace. "Master, if only you had been here, my brother would not have died!" I felt something on my head. I reached up, and it felt wet. I looked into the face of Jesus as tears rolled down His face. He did love my brother! Why had He not come?

After that it was almost as if we were walking in a dream. We went to the tomb. Jesus told us to move the stone while ignoring the scoffing followers. And when Jesus called "Lazarus come out!" A rumbling began from the depth of the earth. A vibration was semt up into my body where my teeth because to chatter. Then all was quiet. Silent Then my brother walked out! Never would I doubt His faithfulness, compassion, and love.

Someone pushed into me. I fell into the dust. The cloud chocked me, and there were feet all around. Afraid I might be trampled, I quickly rose to catch a last glimpse of Jesus before the crowd swallowed him.

The last time I had been with Jesus, I knew something was coming for Him. I didn't know how to put what I felt into words. An end of sorts was coming. I had to do something before it came to tell Him how much I loved Him! How could I show him before it was too late. The urgency pounded in my head as my hands shook. Then I remembered the nard I had been saving. For what I never knew, but I  had a feeing it would change everything. Tripping over my own feet I ran to grab it, as I walked towards Him, I admit I began to doubt. Something dark whispered in my ear. Softly at first. "You will make a fool of yourself! They will throw you out of His presence! Why waste such a gift?" But I pushed through. I kept walking. I broken open the jar and pour out my heart to Him. Where words seemed finite and not enough, I hoped that this offering might speak what my heart was crying.

Then the darkness took on a voice I knew well. Judas. "What a waste!" I looked over at him and blinked. For a moment...I could have sworn I saw.... Darkness and shadows. Wrapping around his body. When he spoke again, my blood ran cold. "Why not sell this and give the profit to the poor?"

Then Jesus spoke. The minute He spoke the darkness fled. I swear I thought I heard...maybe...a shriek? "Let her alone. She is anticipating and honoring the day of my burial. You will always have the poor with you. You don't always have me."

Then I knew. The words..... burial....you won't always have me. I knew.

As the crowd thinned as they followed the man they thought would soon be king, I caught a smell that made my heart leap and then drop at the same time. The perfume. The scent still lingered when I poured out my offering. When I wiped his feet with my hair. Anointing Him for burial.  He was finishing what He had started. An end not a beginning. I knelt down in the dirt and dust and watched as my tears gathered in a puddle beneath.

A king? A conqueror of Rome. How could I have been so wrong? Perhaps I was? He would be King! Hope bloomed in my chest. But something wasn't right although the word King rang true. I looked to the sky. Passover would begin soon. There was much to do. This was the time to thank God above for delivering us from the Egyptians. By the blood of the lamb, we were saved as the angel of death would not touch us if the blood covered us. A flash of red flew through my mind. The smell of blood. Something was coming. Something that would change the world forever. I thought I knew what was happening. Now I am not so sure. But one thing I do know. This man holds the keys to death. I had seen the darkness flee from his presence. I had seen it power gone with the opening of his mouth. I didn't know what was happening, but I did know whatever it was and for whatever reason, Jesus was allowing it. He walked straight , calm, because He knew

something NEW

Sometimes we make things harder on ourselves than it really has to be. Take exhibit A. Nick has requested a water bottle, black electrical tape, scissors, a few cardboard paper plates. Although my presence was requested, I was not allowed to offer insights or ideas. He had the plan! I was the grunt work.

He cut, measured, and taped. Finally, he asked me to tape the last side in place. I was actually quite impressed with how well he did lining things up and taping. After I secured the last wall, he walked over to the sink. "Whoa! What are you doing?" Nick- "I am putting water in it." "Why? You know that the walls are cardboard. It is going to leak." Nick- "No it won't." Sigh...how long must it take for my children to learn that mom is ALWAYS right? Well, Rachel is on 13 years and counting so we will see with that one. 

As no surprise to anyone over the age of 6, he began to put water in, and it started to leak. I may or may not have channeled my inner 6 year old and said, "I told you so." His eyebrows drew together, his lips pursed tight, and suddenly, his eyes widen and he exclaims, "I got it!" I ask him, "what are you doing Nick?" He holds up one finger and begins to unwind the black electrical tape. he wrapped it around and around the sides. "The water won't get through the tape! 

 Once or twice the tape got tangled, but he pretty much was inventor and creator here. Finally he takes it over to the sink, fills it with water....and it hold. I asked, "So what did you make?" Nick- "A water bottle." "Wait, what? Time Out. You cut apart an actual water bottle, built your own walls out of paper plate, then coated it in black electrical tape to make a water bottle like the one you started with.?" Nick looks taken aghast. "No, This one is better. I call it the water bottle machine! Me- "So its a water bottle where the only difference is that the water drunk out of that tastes like cardboard with a refreshing electrical tape aftertaste?

Nick- "No its better!"

I find the irony in the universe that his shirt currently says "Genius Like Mom"

Perhaps if we can secure the patent, it may be ready for production soon. 

All in

"That's when Thomas, the one called the twin, said to his companions, "Come along. We might as well die with him." John 11:16 The Message

And I laughed. Out loud. I could even hear the tone in his voice. The scene is one of the disciples and Jesus getting ready to head to Bethany to Lazarus. Jesus delays, and the one who was loved dies. The other disciples are calling a no-go back to Bethany. They remind Jesus that they are wanted men back there, but without so much as a backward glance, He begins to walk. 

There were 2 reasons why this passage caught my attention. First is in the comedic beat. I could just hear him saying it, and see him waving his arm, "Come on, come on. Time to die if He says it is time." So matter of  fact. This tells me that Thomas had an unwavering trust in Jesus. He knew that He would rather be in death with his Lord than alive with Him walking away. 

Trust. 

The next time Thomas speaks up is to get some much needed clarification. "Master, we have no idea where you are going . How do you expect us to know the road?" (The message John 14:5) He is not debating whether or not to buy the ticket for the trip or checking the weather report. Jesus was going so all he wanted to know was which road to take when he needed to. 

Trust

Thomas. The poor boy who had the nickname the doubter throughout church history. The nickname has always sat uneasy with me. After I read that line about sticking it out with Jesus, I really began to look closer at who Thomas was, and I decided he should be referred to as the trusting one. 

Thomas never doubted Jesus. He doubted himself. He doubted the people around him. But never Jesus. In that room, he doubted the disciples. Maybe it was just an angry retort "I need to feel the nails and the place where his side was pierced." Thomas was the information gather. He was devoted to Jesus even if he had to bring out his first century GPS to find this road Jesus was talking about. He said, "Let's go die with Him." He said, "Where is this road?" And he says, in a sense, "Help me Jesus find the truth."

I think Thomas was an all or nothing guy. With Jesus, he was all in. Until he wasn't. Until he hung back and heard the roaring crowds call for his death. His heart is breaking because he thinks his trust was broken. Did he back the wrong guy? His heart felt like it was going to burst out of his chest when he heard the whip crack and the mocking words. As he watched Jesus drag the wooden torture device up the dusty path, did he wonder where was this road he was suppose to take?

This isn't the way it was suppose to go. I believe that he wanted to touch the hands to show himself it happened. It was real. He wasn't trapped in some nightmarish loop. How can someone's life mission change in a moment. 

The fundamental fact of existence is that this trust in God, this faith, is the firm foundation under everything that makes life worth living. Heb 11:1 the message  

In a time, of overwhelming confusion, he had to hold to the truth. He needed it more than a drowning man needs a raft. This is what I see. This is what I know. His mind tried to muddle everything out when his heart was barely beating. 

At times, I doubt myself. I doubt the people around me. But never Jesus. I cling to His promises of always being by my side despite what I see. I believe that his love will be eternal. I trust that even if the whole world turns it back on me, He never will. 

When he saw, he proclaimed "My God. My Master." As his heart breathed its sigh of relief. I knew it! He was all in.  

Hold my Hand

Psalm 73

23Yet I am always with you;

you hold me by my right hand.

24You guide me with your counsel,

and afterward you will take me into glory.

25Whom have I in heaven but you?

And earth has nothing I desire besides you.

26My flesh and my heart may fail,

but God is the strength of my heart

and my portion forever.

I never been a touchy feely kind of girl. It is just not my “love language.” Acts of service is more my style. If I love you, better to bet on me trying to do something for you than a big old bear hug. So when I first started dating my notoriously huggy boyfriend at the age of 17, I had a lot of adjusting to do. Scott isn’t just affectionate with people he loves. He is affectionate to EVERYONE. He would hug the checkout person in Walmart if he thought she needed it.

What I did learn to like was what we could communicate to one another without saying a work. Scott has always been the rock in my storm. He can always sense what I am feeling and slide up to my side without a word. To put a hand on my back or grab my hand. He started this thing where he would grab my hand and squeeze  three times to mean “I love you.” Then I would squeeze three time back. No words. None needed. Sometimes all that stood between me and a mental panic attack was that hand. Grounding me and reminding me.

I don’t remember why, but it had been a hard day. I sat at my kitchen table (which was my parents) and felt like my heart was so very heavy with all the burdens I carried. It may have been a college issue. I slightly remember it being something about which direction I was heading in my life.

The sunlight streamed into the window and warmed my right hand. It felt good and reassuring. I closed my fingers one at a time and squeezed. At the time, I felt like it was God letting me know that everything is going to be alright. Soon after that I ran across this verse in Psalms 73:23 “Yet I am always with you, you hold me by my right hand.” My right hand felt warm again and I looked down. I slowly closed my hand and squeezed. I pictured His hand in mine and the world didn’t feel quite so scary.

This became the “thing” of mine to always close my right hand and squeeze when I felt like I needed Him to hold my hand. I would squeeze and breath. I would say in my head and sometimes out loud “I know. You got this.” I can’t explain it, but I felt it. I knew He wouldn’t let go.

I remembered this recently when I parked in the school parking lot (because I was walking my kids in and I know that I do not PARK in the drop off lane if I am getting out of the car). I grabbed Nick and Bella’s hands. I squeezed a little tighter when we approached the buses. Not that I thought they would let go and dart out into traffic, but it did make me feel better. I squeezed their hands as I approached the door. Told them I loved them and let them head down the stairs and in the building. I walked back to my van alone. A more than a little sad for the start of the new year and new things. Nick in kindergarten and Will starting high school. Luke starting middle school and Rachel staring into new adventures of more than a little girl. Even 3^rd grade Bella with the start of getting a planner now has thrown me.

But as I walked across the pavement I felt a warmth in my right hand. I closed it and squeezed. Because I know that no matter where I go, I will always have Him there holding my hand. As we have our ups and downs to the start of new years and new opportunities I find myself sad and nostalgic. I have been thinking a lot about my dad more.

I know he would have adored Queen Rachel. Even at 2 he called her the princess. He would have loved the hard time she gives me and would have awarded her a double portion of everything just to give me a little payback. He would have told me to knock it off with babying Nick and made Bella laugh. He would be proud of my boys. He would tell me what he thought on matters small and large- whether I asked for the advice or not. He would be checking the brakes of my van because they are squeaking and yelled at me for the mess in the van.

Life goes on. Good things, no great things happen. Through the ups and downs and twists and turns, there is one thing  can be sure of. That the hand that formed the stars now holds my hand with the love of a Father. When I need a litte reassurance, I close that right hand and squeeze. A reminder to me that even in the darkness, I am never, ever alone.

flashback 2009

Since Back to School has hit the Demi Family hard ( as Rachel put it), we are still on scrambling to survive mode. Since Will is now a freshman and Nick the baby is in kindergarten, I am not in a strong emotion place to sew together words into sentences, and not dissolve into a weepy mess. So I drug this one out. An oldie but goodie when I was putting Will on the bus for the fist time. Regulally scheduled program will return soon.

2009- Will goes to K (with pictures!)

tight rolled jeans with a side of teenage angst

New Living Translation
Take delight in the LORD, and he will give you your heart's desires

Psalm 37:4

                I found my middle school diary…..so, yeah. As it is quite obvious, I am a big fan of writing and expressing your ideas down on paper. Nevertheless, this is a skill I wish wouldn’t have evolved until high school at least. Also, after reading, I have discovered that perhaps Rachel has gotten her flair for the dramatic from her mom.

                My childhood crush. His jeans tight rolled, hair geled expertly off to the side, and denim jacket cuffed up. *13 year old girl swoon* He was perfect. He was gorgeous, funny, and if he didn’t ask me to be his girlfriend soon I might drown in a sea of depression. (I told you dramatic) The dance was this evening. Enter my best friend who was my partner in crime. I went to her house, got dressed up in her clothes because they were way cooler than mine. Anyone remember “Co-ed naked” shirts. I didn’t get innuendos back then any better than I get them now- but my dad sure did when I got home. I hair sprayed my hair as stiff as it could possibly go, put on some cherry lip smacker, and we were ready to do the electric slide  and Cold November Rain all night long. PS- If you didn’t grow up in the 80’s and 90’s you may have to google some of these references

                I won’t hold you in suspense. He didn’t like me. Although at one point he did talk to me. To see if I could give him my best friends phone number. Broken hearted, I cried into my pillow that night. But it wasn’t over yet. I would convince him that I was the girl for him. Enter the bible.

Take delight in the LORD, and he will give you your heart's desires

          WHA?!?!?!?!  So if I go to church every week (check), pray every day (mostly check), try to be a good person (check), God will give me the desire of my heart. I HAD found the Holy Grail. The solution to my middle school boy- who in my opinion was hotter than Jordan on New Kids on The Block- dilemma. I would ask God. Well, first I would “delight myself in Him” AKA church, pray, be good, and then he would give me the biggest desire of my heart. Tight rolled jeans boy. If I do this, then God will grant me that. Like the ultimate genie in a lamp. I just had to figure out the right way to rub it. One week went by… nothing. Surely soon. I prayed. I prayed/begged God that if he would only give me this one thing, let this one boy ask me to be his girlfriend, then I would go to church every Sunday for the rest of my life. Because that is what He wants right?

          Spoiler* I never got the boy. Looking back on the two and some decades (wow…I am old) since then, I can clearly see how that would not have been the best thing for me. The last thing I needed at that age was a pretend adult relationship. Let’s face it. Two weeks after girls met their dream come true guy they were sitting on the bleachers the next dance sobbing due to him now “going out” with someone else. Maybe someone who would go under the bleachers for him.

                As I look back now, with wider and more sober eyes and without a pre-teen heart washed in faux emotions, I can pin point all the garbage that God has kept me from by saying no. He had perspective. I did not. He wanted what was best for me ultimately. I wanted the quick pleasing moment. He lovingly told me no, and I stomped off into my room to sulk.

                Only in the Last couple of years has this verse and others been revealed so clearly to me that I wonder how I couldn’t have seen it before. I do realize actually. I used to read the Bible wondering about what it could do FOR me. Not TO me. I want the quick fixes. Motivational scriptures on my cups and walls. Recently I have found my Jesus is messy.

                Another version of this scripture is the contemporary English version that says
“Do what the LORD wants, and he will give you your heart's desire.” I truly wanted to do what the Lord wanted at this point. I loved Him and realized the undeniable grace and sacrifice it took to save me from myself. But I still had the second part of that scripture wrong. I couldn’t understand how if I was doing the good things, delighting and all that, why was I still not getting the desires of my heart. Why did I still not have this or that? Why did she get that instead and she doesn’t even know you?

                Then one day, The Holy Spirit whispered to my heart, and my entire perspective changed. This wasn’t an IF- THEN relationship. Not a direct cause and effect. It was a change in my heart perspective. IF I was delighting myself in the Lord, he would place NEW desires, HIS desires in my heart. This makes sense for a couple of reasons.

1. I am a sinful human being. No sugar coating this. In this fallen world, we all fall short of the Glory of God. Whether you think you are missing the mark by a meter or a mile, you are still not enough. And will never be enough without the Son. We cannot redeem or pay the admission required to level the field with God. In comes the Blood of the Savior. My sinful nature cannot and should not be trusted. I want things I shouldn’t want and push things away I need. The book of Jeremiah further confirms the nature of man’s heart: “The heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure. Who can understand it?” (Jeremiah 17:9) 
2. He is better at long range planning. He knows what is coming up and the tools I must have developed in order to survive this mission. He also knows what or who I don’t need. He can see the whole puzzle before I even open the box. He is seated in the best position.
3. He know what desires would truly captive my heart. The place that only he can fill and only He knows about. I think I know, but really I have no idea. He meets me in a way that I would have never imagined asking for. Something outside of myself and what I would see in the realm of possibilities.

                How amazing is it that God desired to plant His desires in the hearts of men. That He relentlessly pursues and desires a relationship that will not only bring about His glory but will ultimate result in our healing, our passions fulfilled, and our direction determined. When we desire God, and not just desire the gifts He gives us, that is when things get real. We aren’t delighting ourselves in Him to get a set of steak knives (another 80’s reference), but we are delighting in Him because we adore Him. We are asking Him to draw us close enough to Him that we can hear the beating of His own heart. That we find joy and fulfillment in Him, and want to turn around and look for ways to share it with the people God places in our mists for this season.

                I also want to add that looking at how it all turned out, I am so glad I didn’t get what my 13 year old heart thought was essential, and have learned to temper my writing passions a little. Just a little.