simply. grant and lois

Photo By: Kimberly Blok

I woke this morning to the usual occurrences.  I rolled over, not really wanting to wake, but knowing my responsibility.  At our house, I’m the resident cook … sandwich maker extraordinaire in the morning (sack lunch for Grant) and poached eggs (this is a new development) for breakfast.  On extra tired mornings I substitute cereal for eggs, trying to make the sandwich before my eyes pop open and there’s no turning back.

It used to be I could get back into the zone (dream-land) and finish up where I left off for the night.  I’m an 8-9 hour sleeper.  Lately, if I don’t get sleep before the sandwich it’s just not going to happen.  That’s helpful if you want to be productive (I do!) but sometimes well, it would just be nice to be able to turn the clock back and find refuge beneath the soft cotton I need to replace but refuse to, as it’s been worn just perfectly.

I am a writer (we’ll talk more about that later).  Currently, this means I spend much of my day in quiet (LOVE IT!), much of my day in solitude (love it!), much of my day thinking and pondering and when people ask me what I’ve been doing all day … well, it’s a hard one to communicate (Try thinking about major ideas all day, some of them personal, all of them deep and then relaying those in a concise and shallow manner).

Today was a BIG day (as far as Lois controlled happenings go!) I went to the downtown library (if you live in Nashville … I’d recommend it) and spent time pouring over children’s literature.   So close it was “necessary,” I popped into a coffee shop that looks strangely like Italy, for some coffee and croissants; and after picking up some lavender at the local flower shop, it was about 11:00 a.m.  Back to the pen?

Well, I did fudge on the writing in favor of some reading.  Sometimes we think our breaks from “reality” are deviations when they’re actually designed to lead us back to our purpose.  For days now I’ve been hopelessly stuck as it came to the blog.  I won’t go into it, but reader … please know, this comes on the heels of a day of pacing, wondering, questioning … what’s next?

At the library I pulled out three books and set two of them quickly back on the shelf.  I like to go in without a book in mind, scan, read the back covers and pull the first one that captures my attention.  Today I pulled A Bridge Between Us, as even the title asked me to read more.  Here is the first line:

“Reiko, never forget who you are, “ my father told me. “You are the daughter of a princess.”  (A Bridge Between Us)

When it came right down to it, I didn’t finish the book.  I can’t even say I’d recommend it, save the first line. But that’s not the point.  Here is a father … asking a daughter to remember who she is, TO NEVER FORGET IT.   Because … SHE IS ROYALTY!

As the story unfolds I’m getting the picture that Reiko does not have a great sense of who she really is … she is burdened by not knowing her mother, missing her father and having a life full of pain, mystery and above all … OBLIGATION.

How different are we?  Who are we? Who are we meant to be?  There are moments when I realize I’ve been wallowing around in a place I was not meant to be.  And is it because I am who I think I am or is it because I don’t know who I really am?

I cook, I clean, I write … but that is not who I AM.  SO … who am I?  I’m on a journey, if you’d like to follow, to communicate a concept in which we’re often bound, but are meant to be free!  Identity.

Hello again.  To my great dismay I missed the month of June.  I was here, writing in my head, but nothing ever seemed to make it to the page.  A friend recently asked me if I write when I’m happy or when I’m sad.  Without thinking too hard my answer was … happy.  But, the question stuck with me; and this blog, I have a feeling, is the result.

I am one of those people who is weak in conversation.  If you’ve ever been with me in one, you might have glimpsed the moments … the ones where there’s too much to say and stirring the pot of words is just jumbling them all up until nothing will come out quite right.  So, often I choose silence and wait until the moment I can write and untangle the letters, thoughts, ideas and emotions that come with holding it all in.  And … when I choose to let the jumble out untangled, the consequences can be grave.   So, writing … when I’m confused … yes.

Sadness is a trigger towards lamentation.  Here writing takes the shape of longing and heartache, brokenness and pain that the world may never see.  Journals become places of torture as well as lines of salve and it is there I often learn the most.  So writing sad … yes.

When I was in grade school (and I think it’s still a thing) girls wrote notes to boys that went something like this:  I like you, do you like me …  check yes, no, maybe.  This would be followed with some agonizing and rejoicing with a good result and heartache with a bad one.  But in the process of waiting there was this what if.  Everything was still a possibility and that itself was happiness.  Girls giggled about the prospect and boys had no idea what they were in for.

Writing happy is much like that … there’s a what if with great anticipation.  You don’t quite know what’s coming, but you feel good about things.  Your words may take on a pleasure or a pain, bringing a resolve to continue or a death to the vision. But, in the moment it doesn’t matter.   Still, writing happy … yes.

And then, there’s my favorite.  I call it the space in between.  More often than not this is where I write and this is where I live.   There is a place of joy in the middle where neither happiness nor sadness enters in, but pure peace and revelation.  For me writing is reception.   It’s why I’ve missed the month of June.  I’ve been off balance, fighting for reception.   I’ve been sad, happy, anxious, angry … and sadly, peace was lacking.   So, today is a new day and I’m back in the middle.  Listening.

Writing … YES!

I love errands … the kind you long to finish … the ones that make it feel like Christmas.  I wasn’t opening presents, but the satisfaction of putting the finishing touches on all the last minute details and the idea of saying adios to the presence of unfinished business slathered about my apartment felt good indeed.

And, there was icing on this cake … I was driving in Nashville.  Having been sidelined, off and on for over 4 years, I was back in the driver’s seat, feeling like I’d just been given my permit.  It wasn’t the driving that was the big deal.  It never is!  My issue has always been, knowing where I’m going.

Yes, I’m directionally challenged!  I remember being taught directions specifically in second, third and fourth grade.  I think I remember so clearly because I was trying so desperately to grasp the concept.  And, from all I remember, we learned the map.  “The top of the map is North, and the bottom is South, the left is West and the right is East and that spells WE.”  It was always chimed so beautifully, each teacher having a new variation. There was always a trick to remember.

Not once, however did someone explain how it “really worked.”  In other words … I found out later in life that I could NOT just twist my map and head towards my head to reach a northern destination.  That would always land me in the wrong location.  And, living in a farming community everyone used N, S, E,W directions AND expected me (yes, me!) to know them. Because, after all,  I’m a farmers daughter.

FYI:  JUST BECAUSE YOUR PARENTS KNOW IT, DOESN’T MEAN YOU SOMEHOW SOAK IT IN BY OSMOSIS!!!

So, armed with GPS via cell phone (thank you Google) I proceeded to use it and unlike every other outing of this nature … the voice direction system actually worked.  ON MY WAY!

I drove, slower than those who actually knew where they were going, but in traffic none the less. As I drove, I  felt myself well up with car fury … i.e. road rage.  Not the outrageous kind, but the kind that leads to a bad word and starts you down a road you just don’t need to go.  So there I am driving and praying … Lord, I do not want to swear, I want to please you  … I don’t even want to think bad thoughts, I need you! Keep me, IN YOU!  Over and over … Jesus I need you.

And before I knew it I saw a sign (a literal one!).  It was for an estate sale (which, let’s face it, I’m a sucker for) so I thought, “do I keep driving or turn? Keep driving or turn?” (I had already passed one yummy looking sale already).  Still and soft the voice came:  ”turn.”  So, in I go and drive and drive and drive.  No estate sale in sight and I start to wonder … WHAT AM I DOING?

And then I heard it.  Like a chorus I’d never heard before,  I knew immediately that these must be the locusts everyone had been talking, some complaining, about.  But, to my ears, they sounded beautiful.  And as I paused God said, “listen to my music.”

It was only a moment and I drove around the block to listen, gaze and continue on with my errands. The moment was everything.  With no thought of yelling at cars I smiled, re-routing from what was clearly God’s special symphony for me … the symphony marked ESTATE SALE!

Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind so that you may discern what is the good, pleasing and perfect will of God. Romans 12:2

It sounds Italian (and I very much want to go to Italy) and when I say it, I almost feel Italian.  However, I am not Italian, no trips are planned at present and though I like the sound of it rolling off my tongue, this word (that we just made up) has nothing to do with Italy.

We’ve fallen in love with every place that we’ve lived.  God is good like that.  He’s taken us away from those places we thought we’d belong forever and changed our perspective to something new and different with purpose all its own.  His work is ever changing and we don’t claim to know all he’s done as he’s moved us, but we do know a chapter and verse from each place belongs to our souls.

Denago … Denver, Nashville, Chicago – it’s a culmination of emotion.  Thoughts, feelings, death, life, hardships, trials, patient waiting, mystery, wonder, time lost, time gained … the list does not end and lives, teaching us new things from new perspective daily.

So, if you come visit we might just have pasta … wine if you like and maybe, just maybe a portion of perspective to share.  From our window we see three cities.  One view gives us Denver! Another, Chicago … Together, we’re in Nashville.  Come visit Denago!  It’s not quite Italy, but we’d love to see you!

Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child, this one is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. mt.18:4

Pancakes are worth the wait … almost every time.  Saturday is usually relaxed and dreamy at our house and we were craving pancakes.  Lacking the one ingredient we needed to make them ourselves, we decided to have a morning out together.

It’s been some time since I’ve been to the Pancake Pantry and Grant, knowing there would be a bit of a wait (he’d called ahead) let me out at the front to get in line while he parked the car.  Since he’d called, the line had become increasingly longer, stretching out the door and around the block  … it’s just how it works.  But, it wasn’t really moving.

We debated leaving, but really wanted those pancakes and how long could it really be?  Fortunately for us several other people decided they’d help us out and go somewhere else for breakfast.  And, we’re a party of two … can you say, “small table?” But, this is not the story of me timing us in line.

Waiting, you get to know little things about people.  Where are they headed (some people talk loudly), what do they like (some have already planned what they’re going to order) and habits … there was a woman standing in front of us who’d been waiting for her daughter to arrive for at least 10 parties.  And, we learned that she runs late frequently.  But the most striking of all our observances on our pancake run Saturday morning, was the most silent.

Children, if we’ll just pay attention, have so much to say.  As we stood in line two little boys played together quietly, making boy noises as boys do.  Not thinking much of it, I smiled.  And then, Grant pointed this out:  Dad #1 and Dad #2 were standing about a foot apart, each acting like the other didn’t exist.  Outside appearance suggested they both came from very different places in life.  Their boys loved each other, but their fathers had no interaction whatsoever.

As I watched this scene, it struck me that this is what we’ve become.  We are grown – ups now.  Have you ever said that to someone … oh, grow, up? We stay out of other people’s business and don’t make the first move, but we’re all waiting for that little child to come running up to us, wrap their arms around us and say, will you play with me?  We all want to be loved, but someone has to do the loving.  Maybe you’re the one!

We’re all children … deep down.  And we’re meant to be!  Here’s the challenge: meet with Jesus, ask Him who He’d have you love today and then GO! Meet them for coffee, call them on the phone, invite them over for dinner.  And if you have to make the first move … Be a child!

A word can mean so much.  It can paint a picture, it can build up, and it can destroy.  Yet until today I had not realized that words, apart from the relationships they exist in, are meaningless.  My husband gave me flowers for Valentine’s this year.  The attached card read, “Lois, I love the journey God has us on.  I wouldn’t change one thing!  Happy Valentine’s Day.  I love you!” Grant.  I cried.

If I didn’t have knowledge of the journey we were on I could look at that and think any number of things.  Maybe,  “Oh, how cute.  What a nice guy! “  But, I’ve lived through 6 years of our journey as we wondered how we would make ends meet.  We’ve walked through job loss together and moves that would change our lives forever.  I’ve watched my husband feed me and care for me in ways that only nurses are supposed to have to.  And he wouldn’t change one thing!  I wouldn’t either!

Knowing what I know about Grant, those words meant so much more.  We have experienced life together.  We wake up to one another and when life is tough it’s tough, but we’re living it together.  We care for one another and communicate constantly.

That is what our relationship is supposed to be with God.  Get this: In the beginning was the word, and the word was with God, and the word was God. He was with God in the beginning. 1 John 1:1-2 This struck me this morning.  They were together … Jesus with God and the Holy Spirit, hanging out … in relationship and when a word was spoken there was such depth there because they were in such close relationship with one another.  They were in actual proximity.

God wants us in proximity … Christ IN us (and that’s just the beginning)! So when he speaks a word, there’s such depth and our spirit recognizes oh, yes … and our list flows of intimate interactions we’ve had with Jesus.  HE WANTS US! And, if we’re in proximity … I have a feeling we’ll be awed by the depth of the love God will lavish in our direction.

After taking them in His arms, He laid His hands on them and blessed them. Mark 10: 16

First gifts are challenging.  Do you know what I mean?  When my husband and I were first dating, Christmas came up fairly quickly; and I was not prepared to give him anything worthwhile.  We were not at a place in our relationship where I knew what might bless him, so in order to have a gift on hand, “just in case” I carefully wrapped a book I can tell you he’s NEVER read.  At the time, all I really wanted was a gift, to take the pressure off.

Seeing each other for the first time in a long time (ours was a long distance romance) we smiled a lot and, because we had a drive ahead of us, piled into the car, gifts in hand.  To be fair, his sister helped him pick out something for me.   But, I hid my gift in the back of the car “just in case” he didn’t have one.  I didn’t want to look ridiculous, so I waited until he gave me something and then got his out at the gas station.

The point of this story: oh, yes … he gave me a great gift (nail supplies, which we all know women love and a beautiful cut glass votive holder with a box of votives supplied) that I still have and use everyday.  If I hadn’t known better, I would have thought he knew everything there was to know about me.  He nailed the gift.  Not that it’s hard to get great girl gifts, but many a man has tried and failed.

Now, we know from experience that Grant does not know all about me and I do NOT know all about him.  And, marriage is a beautiful picture of our relationship with the Lord.  Only He does know ALL ABOUT US … He’s waiting for us to come and get to know ALL ABOUT HIM!  It’s called intimacy.

Recently, treadmill running, Jesus met me in a vision.  I saw Eben (he was a little boy, healthy and happy) running towards Jesus who took him and pulled him towards himself, holding him in the curve of his arm.  Eben was laughing as Jesus placed his hand on his stomach and I knew my son was more than ok.  And, I haven’t really thought about it since.

Until today:

My time in the word was in Mark and the verse that stood out said:  After taking them in His arms, He laid His hands on them and blessed them. It was moving, but I didn’t understand what God was trying to say.   I looked closer.  The word here for laying hands on and blessing reveals the posture of the one being blessed.  It was the exact position of Eben in the vision.  I looked again.  Blessing here is verbal:  to praise and celebrate with praises, to make one happy, all by actually speaking … no wonder Eben was laughing.  The more I sought, the more I found.

I had dismissed the vision as a gift from God regarding Eben.  But, God was pursuing ME, calling ME to himself, showing ME more of His character … wanting ME to SEE.  God was speaking to me.  This wasn’t about Eben … this was for ME.  And I had dismissed God.

God is giving personal gifts.  What has he given you?  Are you dismissing it? Have you “given him a book” to get him off your back and just release the pressure a bit? Don’t employ the “just in case” scenarios.  If you sense God pursuing you:  REPENT!  SURRENDER, … LIVE!

“Don’t judge a book by its cover!”  A classic line of mothers and fathers everywhere (at least where I grew up) reminding children to remember well, not to judge and play nice.   Sometimes the candy wasn’t as tasty as the wrapper made it look and sometimes the mean dog down the street just had a large bark.  But, let’s face it … I still begged for the candy and ran away from the dog.  Learning lessons takes time.

Sitting at our kitchen table yesterday I realized … something smelled funky.  Grant brought home flowers (I was so excited … it’s not even Valentine’s Day) and they were amazing in our world of color neutrality, for about 3 days.

For some reason, I’ve been gifted with a sensitivity to smell.  It could be my super power!  Or, maybe it’s genetic.  In any case, I was on full alert, having burned bacon, potpourri and then fumigating with febreeze just a few days prior.  Sitting straight, cereal in hand, Grant got the head tilt and, “does something smell strange?”  After some searching we determined the flowers were the source of the problem.

SO, I’m letting you in on the beautiful dilemma.  I wanted so badly to keep them because they looked amazing, but the smell was already of rot.  The outside looked great, but we could tell that the inside was problematic at best.

Aren’t we like this often?  We’re hurting on the inside, walking around smiling pretending everything’s ok.  We’re stressed out, worn out, maxed out, and we stink inside from not allowing Jesus to fill us with His LIFE.  But, we arrive at church on Sunday, pray with our small group and get all geared up to not meet Jesus the rest of the week.  We just don’t want to get rid of the sin that plagues us.

But, Jesus wants ALL of us, ALL the time! And He wants to whisper secrets in our ears that inspire Life in us that no other person can give.  We can’t get it from home group, can’t get it from the pastor, and we can’t get it in a service full of music.  He has a destiny for us and HE wants to reveal HIS plan!  You may have to stop smiling … you may smile more, … just be REAL with JESUS!

“One is the loneliest number” … really?  I have to admit I’ve not really listened to this song.  I couldn’t even tell you who sings it, but I can tell you that this is the main line that sticks out … it’s famous.  One is the loneliest number, right? Or is it?

I woke myself up this morning singing (in my head) one is the biggest number.  One is the biggest number.  And then in dreamland I thought, one isn’t the biggest number.  Immediately I knew I was wrong and that one is the biggest number because we are all one.  God is one.  The trinity is three in One.  We are One in Christ.  And all of us together are One.  One is the biggest number!

We don’t think of ourselves as belonging to one another.  I know this, because if we did we would care for one another as we do ourselves.  I know this, because I am challenged to love my neighbor as myself.  And I know this, because there are moments, when I forget that even my own husband and I are one and everything we do affects the other.  I just forget.

We need to be reminded. We are one.  When we sin, we are affecting our nation (don’t pretend you’re just in this yourself). And when you win, we win with you! We all have different gifts to serve one another and my gift is your gift.  Think about the beauty of that!  WE are ONE in Christ.

ONE IS the BIGGEST number! It should never be lonely … it should always be blessed!