Cling to the Vine – Page 3

When the Empty Nest Ain’t Empty

I mourned my empty nest when the last chick flew from home.

Veteran moms told me I’d adjust to the empty space. The solitude. Cooking for two.

They were right.

Bedroom walls—once plastered with posters and youthful fingerprints—were painted and turned into guest rooms.

Beds were always made because no one slept in them. Bath towels hung on the rod like soldiers in formation. Ready for inspection.

A tidy way to live.

No dirt. No drama.

Living in that sterile environment fooled me. Made me think I had my act together.

Then all my chicks arrived—temporarily filling up the nest. Bringing their smiles. Their baggage.

Suddenly, SELF is tripping over shoes. Cooking when I’m not hungry. Stepping on sticky floors. Washing dishes I didn’t use. Just like the “good, old days of child-rearing.”

And I’m aghast!

Not with my guests, but my SELF.

Accustomed to being in control, there’s nothing like sharing and serving others to realize—maybe I’m not as patient and selfless as I assumed.

In self defense, my family becomes a handy excuse to NOT meet with the Lord. “I’m on vacation.”

Then wonder, “Where’s the fruit of the Spirit like self-control and joy?”

Only this time, praise God, I’m proactive. Who says you can’t teach an old dog new tricks?

I may roll my eyes when someone leaves the light on, but I refuse to nag or stuff negative thoughts inside of me and look as though I’ve eaten sour pickles. Don’t want to implode.

Like the Proverbs 30 woman, I rise before my household. Not to meet their needs, but my own because it’s imperative to put on my oxygen mask first!

Alone with the Lord, I relinquish yesterday’s mistakes, disappointments, and small annoyances. Why give Satan the victory?

Then I ask God to show me how to be more like Christ while my empty nest ain’t empty.

However, I can only do what Jesus would do when I heed His words, “Come to Me” (Matthew 11:28). And then abide in Christ throughout the day, mindful of His presence, knowing….

Even in this—bustling nest filled with human bloopers and blunders—God will accomplish His predestined will in me as well as others.

“Molding us into the image of His Son.” (Romans 8:29)

One dirty sink and shoe-tripping day at a time.

Are you Afraid?

You’ve felt it, right?

Skin tingling, warm neck, heart palpitations….

Compliments of FEAR that rises in your belly even though your mind tries to be rational.

My daughter used to scream whenever she saw a spider on the wall. Using a tissue, I’d grab the innocent, unsuspecting creature, and flush him down the toilet.

“How can you do that?” she’d ask.

Because I’m not afraid of spiders.

I am, however, afraid of falling from great heights.

A few weeks ago, my husband offered to buy me lunch at Half Moon Bay near San Francisco. Instead of driving four hours, he wanted to fly me there in a two passenger (tandem seating) Citabria. Otherwise known as a taildragger plane.

“It’s only a two-hour flight,” he said. “It’ll be fun!”

Flying, fun? I had a panic attack before I got into the plane.

It’s not that I don’t trust my husband as a pilot. He has thousands of flying hours. But there’s something about sitting in a small area (behind the pilot) with a few inches of light-weight materials (metal, wood, fabric) between me and 3,000 feet of space that makes me….AFRAID!

However, I wanted to be courageous.

While Husband flew the plane, I made myself smile and repeat the Bible verse: “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” I can do this…even this.

I also listened to a podcast on anxiety.

The narrator’s soothing voice instructed me to, “Place both your feet on the ground.”

That’s the problem. My feet aren’t on the ground.

“Breathe deep.”

Smells like jet fuel.

“Close your eyes. What do you hear?”

The loud rumble of a single engine with a propellor which I pray doesn’t quit in midair.

Such were my anxious thoughts while my sweaty hands clung to each side of the plane. Not unlike the way I cling to the metal cage of a ferris wheel. As if that would cushion my fall!

When the plane finally landed near the Pacific Ocean, my husband mentioned the breathtaking scenery we’d flown over. I couldn’t comment. I missed most of it because my eyes were squeezed shut.

As for lunch, I didn’t have an appetite. I stared at the menu, wondering, How much is a bus ticket home?

Do I hear laughter? He who is without fear cast the first stone.

Fear is first mentioned in Genesis when Adam told God, “I was afraid because I was naked; so I hid myself.” (3:10)

God knows our propensity to be afraid.

Afraid of objects. Afraid of the unknown. Afraid of change.

Afraid of death, man, failure, rejection.

And yet, whenever fear is mentioned in the Bible, scripture reminds us that in every situation—even death—God is always present and all-powerful.

“Therefore, we will not fear though…..”

I know this to be true. And “the truth,” Jesus said, “will set you free.” This includes freedom from worry and fear.

That means I must habitually renew my mind by immersing myself in God’s Word in order to know the truth.

And then cling to Truth regardless of sweaty hands.

Otherwise, I’ll fly through life with my eyes closed. Unable to enjoy the journey.

What makes you afraid?

Tired of Striving?

Learn to Be Still — “Stop doing things for God, and spend more time Being in His presence.” Loretta Chalfant

Are you performance-driven?

That’s how I lived. Always striving to be productive. The more things I scratched off my list at the end of the day, the BETTER, I felt.

Who am I kidding? I’m still that way. The problem is, there’s always another list.

A friend of mine told me, “Christian women are horrible when it comes to knowing how to Rest.”

Could it be Christian women spend too much time striving to be a “good Christian” rather than rest in who we are in Christ?

Because I’m wired to be performance-driven, I originally took that mindset into my Christian walk. I felt the more I did for God, the more He’d love me. Isn’t that how it works in life with people?

My love language is acts of service so loving God meant I had to serve Him on top of trying to be the perfect wife and supermom. You’ve heard of the Proverbs 31 woman, right?

So over the years, this “good Christian” worked in the church nursery. Taught children’s Sunday School. Made meals for sick people. Attended Women’s Bible Study. Showed up whenever there was a women’s event. For a time, home schooled my kids. Volunteered in their school classrooms. Drove on every field trip.

Oh, don’t forget reaching out to the neighbors. We have to evangelize. And Christians must be Light and Salt in the community: Help the homeless, the poor, the people in jail.

Yada yada….DID I FORGET SOMETHING?

Bottom line: I was like a worn out, limp dishrag, trying so hard to earn God’s love and approval. Never certain I hit the mark. Never satisfied with my performance.

Please, say I’m not the only one.

That’s when the Lord brought a spiritual mentor into my life. Loretta listened to me during Bible Study, and recognized the taskmaster within me.

“Stop Doing things for God,” she said, “and spend more time Being in His Presence.”

Sheer exhaustion made me stop. That, and the desire to experience more of God.

I made an honest appraisal of everything I thought I had to earn, or experience, to be satisfied. I asked myself:

Why am I doing these things?
If I do more for God, will He love me more?

Old habits are hard to break, but I learned from experience that intimacy with God doesn’t happen because I have lots of Biblical knowledge or serve others.

Intimacy comes from knowing God. And that happens when we make the time to be still in God’s presence…meditating on His Word, listening for His voice. Seeking His face, not His blessings.

Only then, can our hearts rest and be satisfied even in this….hectic world.

Bench photo: Courtesy of Jennifer Foster

Consumed with Whom?

Today, I swam upstream in a sea of shoppers. Browsing for the perfect Christmas gift.

Never mind that Christ came as the Lamb of God to Save people from their sins on that first Christmas,

Businesses are glad to Save me a buck this time of year (and spend one too) so long as I…..

Shop on a particular date
Use a coupon
Buy two items to get one free.
Mail in a rebate

After two hours, and minimum results, I called it a day. I don’t have the shopper gene, and gifts aren’t my love language.

My trash can is full of unread, glossy catalogs and holiday coupons. I delete email advertisements that urge me to “Hurry up and Buy.”

Even charities finagle how to guilt me into year-end giving—tax deductible of course.

I DO LOVE CHRISTMAS, but it makes me crazy that Consumerism has taken center stage over Christ.

We’re solicited to purchase Christmas gifts, but learning how to receive the GIFT of GOD is taboo.

I get it. Not everyone who celebrates “Christmas” believes in the name of Jesus. Did you know there’s a giant Christmas tree in a Dubai shopping mall? Isn’t that city located in a Muslim country?

Sorry, rabbit trail….Let me point my finger back to myself.

I can sit on my Christian high horse and spout, “Jesus is the reason for the season.” However, unless I’m intentional about my relationship with Him, I’m prone to wander through the merry month of December, consuming goods and calories.

Consumed with everything and everyone, but Him.

Ten years ago, I was confronted with my wanderlust. After the Christmas season, I packed the ceramic nativity set on my fireplace mantel before I noticed…

Baby Jesus is missing!

No manger full of straw, no bright-eyed babe for Mary and Joseph to adore.

Wise men and shepherds kneeled, and yet the newborn King wasn’t around for them to worship.

Baby Jesus was on my desk, buried beneath clearance ads.

I cradled the tiny figurine. How did I go through Christmas unaware the Christ Child was missing?

Then again, my spiritual disciplines and time with the Lord weren’t on my checklists—buy gifts, mail cards, bake cookies, watch Christmas movies.

My all-consuming, weary efforts to celebrate Jesus’ birth that year were a vain attempt to possess what I already had experienced, and thoughtlessly forsaken, the joy of abiding in Christ.

Abiding, even in this…busiest, most wonderful time of the year.

Is Jesus missing in your life?

What Do You Hope For?

My youngest child left for college a month ago. With the exception of some furniture, his bedroom is empty as a conch shell lying on a beach.

The occupant left. There’s nothing but a hollow space where there once was life.

View bigger - Conch Shell FREE for Android screenshot Gone are most of my son’s clothes, his laptop computer, his Bible, the scent of his cologne. Even his lava lamp traveled East to get plugged into a college dorm.

So I decided to renovate the room. I stripped posters off the wall, and removed the camouflage curtains that I hand sewed.

Then I patched the holes in the wall with caulk…as if keeping myself busy with a room makeover could fill the empty spaces of my heart.

If only moving into the next season of my life was as simple as replacing the fan blades in the ceiling fan.

Years ago, when our two older children left home at the same time, our nuclear family of five was subdivided. The sensation was like ripping a plant out of the earth, and then tearing the entwined roots apart to create three separate, smaller plants.

Transplanting my last child across the country feels like an amputation.

I’m still a mother, but there are no longer any children beneath our roof. I’ve severed my apron strings that held them within reach.

Those thoughts hovered in my head while the ceiling fan stirred the air which brushed my cheek like a child’s butterfly kisses.

This room never looked so good. But new paint won’t bring this room to life.

People make a house a home.

What happens when they’re missing?

I tell myself, come Christmas vacation, my son will return and this room will look lived in again—an unmade bed, socks scattered on the floor, the closet door ajar, a cup of water by the bed.

Family reunions, that’s something to hope for, right?

Isn’t hope hinged to every goodbye? If not this world, then the next….we’ll be together again one day!

“Faith is.the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.” (Hebrews 11:1)

I pull the brass chain hanging from the light fixture as the fan blades spin round the globe like planets revolving round the sun.

Who’s the center of my universe? The light of my life?

Have my children and house become the center of my attention…my affection?

If faith is the assurance of things hoped for….what am I hoping for?

Am I hoping my children will move closer? Visit more often? Stay safe? Be happy? Grow strong in the Lord?

“God Himself must be the one object of our hope and trust in our work, our needs, and our desires.

“Just as God is the center of the universe, the one guide that orders and controls its movements, so God must have the same place in the life of a believer.

“With every new day, our first thought should be: Only God can enable me this day to live as He would have me live.” ~~Andrew Murray

When will I learn, its indispensable to meet with God every day in prayer, and allow Him to renovate me.

I can long for the past or fret about the future, but my time is best spent praying for those I love.

So I pray for my children. I pray for my husband of 35 years who walked beside me during the child-rearing years.

And “I pray that Christ will be more and more at home in our hearts as we trust in Him.” (Ephesians 3:17)

Even in this…..season of life.

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