"But the Lord said to him, 'What are you doing here Elijah?'" --1 Kings 19:9b

Tomorrow night at church, I'm talking about one my favorite Old Testament stories.  Many people look right over it because you see the Lord's hand working more overtly in the section before and after it.  It takes place in 1 Kings 19:9-18.

In 1 Kings 18, the Bible relates the story of the contest on Mt. Carmel.  In an outward show of God's power, Elijah challenges the prophets of Ba'al to a contest.  They set up two altars with wood, and, both sides call on their respective God to light the wood on fire.  Ba'al, of course, does not answer the petitions of his people, but God does answer Elijah--so much so that the very rock of the altar is consumed in the flames.  Elijah then leads the people in the destruction of Ba'al's prophets.

At that time Jezebel was the queen, and she was adamant Ba'al worshiper, and vindictive to boot.   She sends a message to Elijah and tells him that he will before the next day comes to a close.

Then, Elijah, the last prophet of God, the one who has been faithful, the one who was fed by ravens in the wilderness, the one who had just seen that very day God's power exhibited through fire, got scared and ran.  He ran back to the southern kingdom, out of Jezebel's reach, and then went into the wilderness, most likely making it harder for her agents to find him.

Unbelievably tired, he sat down underneath a single broom tree, and asked to die, like all of God's faithful workers who had come before him.  But God has a better idea.  He sent an angel to Elijah with food and water.  He told him to eat and drink, and then Elijah went to sleep.  After he woke up, the angel told him again to eat and drink so that he could be strong for the journey ahead.

Elijah walked for forty days, and finally arrived at Mt. Sinai.  The thing you need to know about Mt. Sinai is that it's were God hung out in those days, and Elijah would have known that.

He found a cave on the mountain and went inside.  While he was in the cave, God asked him, "What are you doing here Elijah?"

Elijah responded by saying, "I have zealously served the Lord God almighty.  But the people of Israel have broken their covenant with you, torn down your altars and killed every one of your prophets.  I am the only one left and now they are trying to kill me, too."

God then told Elijah to come out because he was going to pass by.  As the Lord passed by Mt. Sinai, there was a mighty and terrible windstorm that tore rocks down from the mountain.  But God was not in the wind.  Then, there was an earthquake that shook the entire mountain, but God was not in the earthquake.  Then, there was a fire that licked at the rocks of the mountain, but God was not in the fire, like he had been at Mt. Carmel.  Then, after the windstorm, after the earthquake, and after the fire, there was a gentle whisper.  Elijah took his cloak and covered his face, and finally walked to the mouth of the cave as God had asked him to.

A voice asked, "What are you doing here, Elijah?"  And again, Elijah replied, "I have zealously served the Lord God Almighty.  But the people of Israel have broken their covenant with you, torn down your altars and killed every one of your prophets.  I am the only one left, and now they are trying to kill me, too."

You see, God was not in the windstorm, and he was not in the earthquake, and he was not in the fire.  He was that small, gentle voice, so eager to talk to his child.  Up until Jezebel's threat, Elijah had been a doer.  He had moved, moved, moved, and moved, with God's direction.  He listened, even when he didn't know how God was going to work things out.  But when Jezebel threatened him, it shook him up.  He forgot all that he knew about God, so God had to reveal himself in a new way--one that Elijah had never looked for.  God was the still small voice reaching out to him.

So often, we look for the writing on the wall, and we miss the whisper in our ear.  Both are ways that God may choose to talk to us.  In fact, he often chooses the quieter ways to speak to us, but many times we are too busy or too worried or too scared to listen.

After Elijah answered the second time, God told him to go back the way he came, and do certain things like anointing kings and picking a successor.  Elijah obeyed, and finally got back on track.  God had always had a plan for him, but Elijah was so upset, he didn't stop to listen.  So, God had to do some radical things to grab his attention.  And after the dust settled, God was in the small voice, and Elijah was ready to listen.

I'm going to challenge you do something knew.  The next time you pray, or have your quiet time, I want you to sit straight up in your chair, focus on a wall, and be completely silent.  Let your thoughts be quiet,and listen.  Just listen.  If a thought about your surroundings distracts you (like that crack in your wall above the window), acknowledge the thought, let it pass, and continue to listen.  One whole minute.  Set a timer if you need to.  Do that every day for a week.  Then , the next week, do it for two minutes every day.  That's all.  Just ask God to reveal what he would like you to know, and sit still and listen.  You might be surprised what he has to say.

When God asked Elijah what he was doing there, he already new why Elijah had run.  What he wanted Elijah to see, though, was that he ran without consulting God.  That in a moment of fear, he stopped listening to God's instructions.  God had never told him to run to the wilderness.  Where are you right now?  What has God been asking you to do?  Are you running when you should be staying?  Or are you staying when you should be leaving?

What would you say if God asked, "What are you doing here?"  He may ask you that even when you're right where you need to be, just to make sure you understand where you need to be.  Then again, he may ask you because you need to rethink your path.  So, what are you doing here?

"I burn, I pine, I perish." --William Shakespeare

So, I've decided to keep a log of every time I burn myself.  In the last fifteen months I have burned myself more times than I have in the 22 years prior (excluding sun burns).  Last year I burned myself on hot glue (twice), a hair straightener, a bag of steamed vegetables, a fresh batch grits, water from the sink (not the stove), and my iron.  Thusfar, this school year, I have burned myself on the oven, my cooking stone, and yesterday, the Corningware.  I was making cinnamon bread for the kiddos at church, and had an unfortunate run-in with the surface.  At this rate, I am not going to have finger prints.  Forget sun damage, life damage is going to be the end of me.

"The language of truth is simple." --Seneca

Louisiana Lingo time!  Today's word is: "hum."

hum (hŭm) v. 1. to throw with great force.

This may be my favorite word that I've acquired  since moving to Louisiana, and  unlike "come see," this one is actually on UrbanDictionary.

One night at church, I told the kids they could play with the water baton with the stipulation that they not chuck it across the room (my own Alabama term for "throwing with great force").  They were greatly confused, but fortunately Mrs. Jackie was there to help us understand one another.  After explaining what I meant, Mrs. Jackie said, "Oh, we would say, 'don't hum it' instead." 

Apparently "hum" comes from the sound an object makes when thrown with great force--like you threw it so hard it hummed.  It is a standard verb in these parts, and I love telling my kids at church, "Don't hum it," or "Johnny, you can sit out this round for humming the ball." 

"Experience: that most brutal of teachers. But you learn, my God do you learn." --C.S. Lewis

So, I fancy myself a moderately experienced adult, who is capable of doing many things and making many different decisions with an acceptable amount of success.  Nothing to brag about, but certainly capable.  I have learned, though, several things today.

• The best way to carry one's new cranberry colored tweed knee length jacket to one's second floor apartment is to wear it.
• The best way to carry one's new blanket to one's second floor apartment is to strap it to one's duffel bag.
• The best way to carry one's 17" x 32" framed print to one's second floor apartment is not to carry it wrapped up in one's favorite pink bedspread, but sometimes you just have to.

Being born in the mid-eighties, I have absolutely no adult experience with paper grocery sacks.  By the time that I had any purchasing power, the choice was not "paper or plastic" but "plastic or cloth bags you brought with you."  As such, I've made interesting discoveries after visiting the Aldi in Trussville, Alabama.

• Double bagging is a good thing.
• Carrying paper bags full of cans up to one's second floor apartment is neither easy nor pleasurable.
• Carrying paper bags full of cans up to one's second floor apartment is hazardous as there is nothing by which to grab on to said bags except for paper sides.
• Regardless of how sturdy of a grip one feels one has when one starts to carry paper bags up to one's second floor apartment, the bags will always slide down one's new cranberry colored tweed knee length jacket towards the ground.
• Sequined zebra ballet flats do not protect one's toes from 30 oz cans of pinto beans.

Aldi is one of those places with great prices, but you have to pay for bags.  As I had no more empty cloth bags, I thought that I would be both more economic AND greener if I used paper bags (which were four cents cheaper than plastic).  I now have a greater appreciation of both plastic bags and cloth bags--both for their strength, and one for it's ecological impact.

However, my pantry is now stocked, and cheaply so.

Oh, and I had a wonderful Thanksgiving.

"I am thankful..."

I am thankful for many things...

-my mom and dad who tell me I'm awesome and who taught me who Jesus is.

-my grandmother who lets me pilfer through her house for stuff and shows me how much she loves me by making my favorite food whenever I come over.

-my best friend who has been my best friend for 13 years and across three states.

-my church that loves me like I'm family.

-my kiddos at church even though they throw markers.

-my roommate because she's the perfect roommate.

-my friends even though they tease me.

-my cousins--even the one who stole my cake.

-my Jesus who loves me, warts and all.

"Life is not orderly. No matter how we try to make life so, right in the middoe of it we die, lose a leg, fall in love, drop a jar of applesauce." --Natalie Goldberg

Two important announcements:

1.) Applesauce is, in fact,  one word. I did not know this until today. Barbeque sauce is two words. I suppose that this is so because apples grow on trees and barbeque grows on lots of things.

2.) I have found a new love. Materne's GoGo Squeez Applesauce. It makes my heart happy and does NOT taste gross.

It also comes in an assortment of flavors, such as applepeach and applecinnamon.  I'm eager to find both in grocery stores.  This particular pouch of applesauce (see?  one word!) came from the impulse buy section while I was checking out at the grocery.  (I'm going native--instead of "the grocery store" I shall here on out refer to the establishment at which I purchase groceries as "the grocery" like the rest of south east Louisiana.)  There was only the original applesauce flavor in the pouches, but for 67¢, it was worth it. 

The roommate loves putting cinnamon in her applesauce, so I'll have to hunt down more flavors!

This particular pouch has additional decoration to make sure that no one else decided to eat it.  It is Karen's applesauce from the grocery.  Not anyone else's!

What's really neat is that it's resealable and spoon-free.  You can eat it with no hands!  It looks like it will be great snack for the next time I go kayaking.  You don't have to refrigerate until after you open it.  It's only sixty calories per package, but it's full of the healthy sugars your body needs when you're playing outside.  It has only two ingredients: apple and apple juice concentrate.  That's it!  Tiny pieces of apple and somewhat dehydrated apple juice.  Perfect for low blood-sugar attacks and over-tired muscles.

I just realized that I've been gushing about a little package of applesauce for 5+ paragraphs.  I need to go on vacation.  Rescue me Thanksgiving!

"Give thanks to the Lord for he is good; his love endures forever!" Psalm 107:1

It's almost Thanksgiving, which is my very favoritest holiday of all.  Don't get your holy panties in a twist, yes, I love Christmas, and yes, I love Easter, but I think that Thanksgiving encompasses the spirit of both.  Look at the pilgrims:

“The Pilgrims made seven times more graves than huts. No Americans have been more impoverished than these who, nevertheless, set aside a day of thanksgiving.”  (H.U. Westermayer)

Let's face it, their first year in America was terrible.  They had no idea what they were getting into.  They were expecting the climate to be farm more similar to that of England's, but instead they found hotter summers, and colder winters.  That one fact served to unravel all of their preparations.  And yet, they were thankful.  Thankful to God for what he provided.

Thanksgiving is the least commercialized of all holidays (even though the day after Thanksgiving is the most commercial day of the year).  The only things you can spend money on is food and a pilgrim costume for your kid.  That's about all that can be done with it.  Do some people still overspend?  Yes, but that is not at all the spirit behind Thanksgiving.  At Thanksgiving, we gather together around the same table (or living room), and eat and bond.  Then we move on to watching football and bond over touchdowns and tummy aches.  That's it.  We get to hang out with our family and be thankful. 

And yes, I do quite enjoy Black Friday shopping.  No, I'm not one of those nut-jobs who would maul a lady for a Cabbage Patch Kid.  I just enjoy the hunt.  I don't even have to be buying anything for me or my Christmas list.  I enjoy helping my best friend find that "it" gift for her nephew.  I've been seven out of the last eight years, and I haven't been scared off, yet.  It helps, though, that my mother is equally thrilled by the hunt, and she's good at keeping morale high.

"There are 10 kinds of people in the world. Those who can read binary, and those who can't." --classic Geek joke

I am very sad that I missed Binary Day (10/10/10).  I know, fellow geeks, that more binary dates will occur, but 101010 is 42, so it was also 42 day.  However, I found this pic online, and nearly fell out of my chair laughing.

It's a binary birthday cake.  If you don't get it, I'm sorry, take solace in the fact that you are less geeky than I am.  If you're still curious, though, it's a 34th birthday cake.

Major shout-out to Oskay for this phenomenal project!  Check out how to make your own binary candle here.

"The whole thing about the women is, they lust to be misunderstood" --Will Rogers

Overheard this conversation today:

Mrs. Mary: I'm leaving early Friday.  I have a date.
Monique:  With Walter?
Mrs. Mary:  No, Walter's my son.
Monique:  I thought that was your husband's name, too.
Mrs. Mary:  My first husband, yeah.
Monique:  Oh, then you don't want to go with him.
Mrs. Mary:  He's deceased.
Monique:  Then you really don't want to go with him.

I love the office.

"You don't have a soul. You are a soul. You have a body." --CS Lewis

I'm venting some frustration again.  This time I've aimed a little lower--those who write children's curriculum for churches.  We all love the kids of our church, even those who don't like them.  Everyone wants to see them succeed (whether or not they have any desire to be a part of the process), and everyone wants to see them saved (see previous note).  I may be only speaking to the Baptist crowd at this point, so bear with me.  We know that there's a window from 4 to 14 that typically decides whether or not they are going to choose to follow God's plan for their life, and let him save them from their sins. In churches, those who actually bother to work with the children act in one of two ways: 1) they preach at them like they would adults, allowing the message to go completely over their heads, or 2) they dumb it down so that it's simple to understand, and sounds deceptively easy to boot.

I believe the first choice is the reason for the second choice.  Someone who has at least had one conversation with a kid thought, "Hm.  Kids are kinda concrete thinkers.  They don't get words like 'salvation' and 'repentance.'  They probably don't get this gospel message I'm trying to give.  I should use different, easier to understand words."  Their spirit and hearts were in the right place, but the result is less than pleasing.  They've managed to turn a seven-course meal into the little crackers with the cheese pit and the red stick to spread it around with.  Yummy, satisfying, healthier than most things, but not actual sustenance.  I'm not saying that "getting saved" is particular hard.  But being a Christian is hard, so it's therefore a tough decision with a simple process.  Yes, it is as easy as saying a prayer, but that's only the first step.

Think of when you were first learning to drive, and join me in this scene.  You buckle up, which is easy, because you've been doing that since you got out of your booster seat when you were five.  Sticking the keys in the ignition is cake, because you had seen your parents do it before, and they may have let you do it from time to time.  Finding the switch to turn on the lights is a little difficult, but Dad is there to guide you.  You adjust the mirrors just like he tells you to, revealing so many things you couldn't even see earlier.  Now, you are ready for the one glorious moment you've waited for since you were seven, and your sister started driving your mom's mini-van--you get to crank the car.  You hold your breath in eager anticipation of the rumbling beneath you, that is in your control entirely.  Dad's in the seat beside you, but you, yes you, with your braces, awkward knees and elbows, and volcanic zits are in control of the car.  The engine turns over, and you reach a level of ecstasy that is as frightening as it is invigorating.

Now, imagine Dad saying, "Okay, that's good.  We're done here."  You protest, "But Dad, we haven't gone anywhere yet?"  Dad replies, "That's okay.  You've cranked the car, and that's all there is to it.  Now you are free to enjoy your learner's permit."

You can know the driver's manual front cover to back, pass the written exam with flying colors, get in the car, crank it up, and still have no idea what to do, or what all is entailed in driving.  That scenario sounds dumb, because it is.  Cranking the car is simply the first step to driving.  Praying to "ask Jesus into your heart" is simply the first step to Christianity (after, of course, learning more about "the manual").  We get so focused on helping them make the first step, that we dumb it down, and reduce "becoming a Christian" to "saying a prayer" which is like reducing driving a car to cranking it.

Is it possible for a kid to figure out his way on his own?  Yes, just like it is possible for a kid to figure out how to drive on his own.  But think of all the wrecks, mishaps, and tickets a kid who is teaching himself to drive is likely to incur.  A fifteen-year-old boy is not very patient, and is ready to leap from "Caleb Smith" to "Mario Andretti" in fifteen minutes.  In the same way, many kids may try to jump to saint-hood, or, not even be aware that more is required of them than "cranking the car."

If you are teaching your kid to drive, you are going to make sure he understands all the responsibilities that are entailed.  He has to be aware of how much speeding tickets cost, what his insurance is going to cost, how much it will go up if he wrecks his car, how much he will have to pay for a new car, how valuable his life is, how valuable the lives of those around him are, and how he is responsible for all of those things.  A car is not just freedom, but responsibility.  It is not for him to misuse, but to use wisely.  Driving himself to school is a great idea, but driving himself to parties where he will simply get in trouble is not a great idea, and not why he has the car.

However, when it comes to salvation, the same child will be taught that Jesus wants to take his sins away because he loves him no matter what, and all he has to do is his ABC's--Admit that he has sinned; Believe that Jesus Christ died for him; and Confess his sins to God, and confess Jesus as his savior.  That's it.  And he will probably accept this message to make his parents happy and to clear his conscience of his guilt.  In fact, all he thinks that "confessing Jesus as his savior" means is "saying Jesus is his savior."  No commitment, no responsibilities, just reward.

Why on earth are we doing this to our kids?  I remember when the ABC's stood for "Admit, Believe, and Commit," which honestly I prefer, because it actually does imply some responsibility on the Christian's part,  but it still watered down the most important message in the world to three words.  When I ask kiddos at church how to become a Christian, despite our best intentions, they still yell "Admit, Believe, Confess!"  That's it.  Three words that don't even form a sentence.  Three words that in a vacuum can mean anything--admit that your sister has cooties, believe that her cooties are deadly, and confess your belief of her cooties to everyone you come into contact with.  I can only assume that their parents latched onto the ABC's years ago, and that they're hearing it at home, because none of us in the kids' department teach them that message.

We treat the salvation of our children as either a matter of course, or a nursery rhyme.  We've all been taught "Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep," but that's hardly a confession of faith.  So why do we expect the ABC's to be much better?  This is no trifling matter, but the single greatest, most miraculous change to happen in any one person's life.  C.S. Lewis had this to say about Christianity:

"Christianity, if false, is of no importance, and if true, of infinite importance. The only thing it cannot be is moderately important."

There is no middle ground.  We either do what it takes to make sure the kids in our lives understand "salvation," or we don't.  Refusing to simplify the message and refusing to portray it for what it is because we want to make it as easy as we can for the kids are simply unacceptable.

Step up people!  Step up parents!  Step up nursery workers, Sunday School teachers, Awana leaders, GA and RA leaders, children's choir directors, and sweet little old ladies on the back row!  The single most important job any of us have is to make disciples, not make converts.  It's to teach and facilitate and be useful vessels for God.  Make sure they know.  Make sure they understand, because if they don't get this, then nothing matters.

Exhortation over, and practical advice to come.