Please Fasten Your Seatbelts... Turbulence Ahead.

Did you know that airplanes are an exceptional place to meet men? They are. I have, on several occasions, found myself on a first date at thirty thousand feet.   

As the majority of first dates go, most of my airplane "dates" have been awkward and painfully long. However, on a plane from LA to Texas a year ago, I was  enjoying a pretty promising conversation with a dashing young business man.  

We were about two sentences in when I saw it happen… his eyes lit up and I knew - he was going to use the remaining  three hours to convince me that he was my future. It; however, took barely anytime for those plans to be thwarted. 

He was an agnostic. The minute that came up, my body language changed, as did the purpose of my conversation. He noticed. "What? What's the big deal?" he asked. "So… you're a Christian? So what?" He couldn’t understand why I wouldn’t go on a date with him. "We have so much in common," he continued.  And it's true… in our brief time together, we had realized that we had similar interests.   

"I don't understand," he continued… "I like rock climbing - you don't like rock climbing, but that doesn't mean that you can't respect that I like it, and I can't respect that you don't. I don't see how this whole Christ thing is any different." I looked at him and said, much more kindly and delicately than I have said to men in the past:

“I know you don’t understand and that is because you don’t know my Lord. It doesn’t matter how much we like the same hobbies or eat the same food.  It doesn’t matter whether we travel to the same places or have the same kinds of friends. We’re not the same. My God permeates everything I do. He’s not a hobby - He’s the love of my life. You and I could have a drink together... we could even have two and it would probably be fun. Soon; however, we are going to hit a wall and that wall is that you won’t understand why I do or don’t do, what I do or don’t do. You won’t understand the very thing that drives all the decisions I make. You won’t understand my heart because you don’t know the God that owns it. If you don’t know Him, you will never really know me. And trust me - you don’t want me without Him.”

Well with that, our date was over. 

Fortunately, airplane dates come with the added benefit of being able to turn on an iPod and pick up a book, but they also come with the unfortunate issue of being stuck next to the person you've just rejected… for a few hours.

I got off that plane without him understanding. I walked away without it making sense. It's not my job to make it make sense to him. It's my job to be obedient.  It's my job to follow my Lord. 

A few years and several heartbreaks ago, I wouldn't have walked away. I would have enjoyed the attention. I would have soaked in the affirmation. I would have played with fire. Because see… God couldn't be an active participant in our relationship.  What date is worth leaving behind the one thing, in my life, that is worth everything?? NO date. And what would I be without Him? The answer to that question makes my stomach cringe…

 

"Do you not know that your bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own."  1 Corinthians 6:19

- Biblically Blonde

Avoidance.

 

Avoidance. It's that thing that happens when you know there is something you should take care of and you choose not to. Maybe the reason is blatantly obvious or painfully subtle. Maybe the reason is excusable or unavoidable. For me, the reason is usually that I am choosing to shut down that area of my life until I am ready to deal with it – or {and probably more honestly} allow God to deal with me. 

My avoidance usually manifests itself in simple things like cleaning my room or my car… I've told my friends that if they want to know the state of my brain, just take a peek inside my car.  Are hundreds of papers, 7 shoes, a suitcase from my trip last week, 42 empty water bottles, a bra, and a travel mug {or two – gross} with old coffee in it rolling around...? Then that's how my brain feels.

This time I took my avoidance out on this blog. 

There are some good, excusable reasons {to divulge in future posts} as to why I disappeared but there were also some totally God-avoidance reasons as to why I disappeared. But for now this is just an "I'm sorry" to our 2 readers who are out there somewhere… maybe? 

The confession we say most Sundays at my church always pricks my heart:

 

"Almighty and most merciful Father, we have erred and strayed from Your ways like lost sheep. We have followed too much the devices and desires of our own hearts. We have offended against Your holy laws. We have left undone those things which we ought to have done; and we have done those things which we ought not to have done. Spare those, O God, who confess their faults. Restore those who are penitent; according to Your promises declared unto men in Christ Jesus our Lord. Grant that we may hereafter live a godly, righteous, and sober life; to the glory of His name. Amen." 

So not that anyone cares that this small little IP address in the middle of the vast inter-web has been dormant – but it just feels good to say, "I'm sorry for leaving this undone."

More coming soon…

 

- George's Girl

A Kingdom Calling

If you know me at all, then it shouldn't surprise you to know that the morning of April 29th I was up at 3 am… drinking tea, eating homemade scones (which were exceptional I might add) and watching a royal wedding.

Ahhh, bliss… I was not disappointed.  Let's just say that the Queen's, post wedding, one word description of "amazing" was spot on.

Catherine played the role of princess perfectly and, man, did William look like a prince, and, for a brief moment, pure joy reigned not only in Britain but also throughout the world.

Although I am sure that pictures of that day will be continuously compared to past royal weddings, there was something different about this one. I was not alive in 1981 to view the wedding of William's mother and father, but it takes only a few clips to notice that there was something special present today that has been sorely lacking from weddings before. That missing link is, quite simply, love. Not infatuation - love.

In spite of the regalia and pomp and circumstance, one could sense the simplistic, genuine affection. It was subtle… it was intimate… it was real. 

In the backdrop of horses and hats and carriages and crowns… there was a man and woman who get it. They know each other. They know themselves. They have seen each other at his/her worst. They have seen each other at his/her best. They have been up. They have been down. They have said, "Ok. Let's do this."

This couple knows the task that lies ahead, and they have decided to tackle it together.

And, in the beauty of this royal union, I couldn't help but think about the symbolism of it all.

The Bishop of London, said in the service, "Every wedding is a royal wedding because every human being is a child of the King." 

How right he is. And with that right (available to all of us) comes a weight that, upon acceptance, is ours to carry. 

I was incredibly moved by the bride and groom, but I was almost equally as moved by the nation of Britain. They came, in hundreds of thousands, to celebrate the union of their future king. Why? Because the wedding was as much about the kingdom as it was about the couple.

The world had front row seats to the beginning of a legacy. What these two do from now until the day they die will affect the lives of all of Britain and many throughout the world. How this plays out, going forth, is up to them. William and Catherine can waste this union or they can maximize it… tap into it… and make a forever impact. An impact that is made possible by the simple, yet extraordinary fact that he is the son of the future king.

And so, as I sat there, I thought, what a greater impact we can make, as daughters of the one and only, forever was, forever will be King.

In light of our title… in humble awareness of our position as His children…  may we view marriage as a union with great, great Glory at stake. May we seek a spouse who knows not only us, but also the weight of the task that lies ahead. May we realize, that marriage (just like everything else) is not about us, but about our Kingdom. May our unions be for the betterment of our calling and may our affections be grounded in our duty and obligation to the Kingdom and King that we serve.

Yet this view seems to run in contrast to our nature. There is, tragically, something about real and raw that scares us. There is something about transparency that seems to detract from the fairy tales that we, in our hearts, so long for and, yet, I couldn't help but see today that real is romantic - sincere is endearing - and a love story built on honesty, trust and transparency is, well… breathtaking.

So my prayer for me and my prayer for you is that our wedding days mark a union that causes the true Kingdom to cheer and that our legacies, as couples, span the reign of that Kingdom, which, in case you need to be reminded is… eternity.

Long live the King.

{Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their work: If one falls down, his friend can help him up. But pity the man who falls and has no one to help him up! Also, if two lie down together, they will keep warm. But how can one keep warm alone? Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves. A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.}  Ecclesiastes 4:9-12

The Fall

http://www.thephotographylink.com/archives/date/2008/09

So I've never written about why I moved from my hometown of Houston, Texas to Dallas... 

It's because of a guy.  

There. I said it. And looking back, it was the funniest, kookiest, quirkiest turn of events: In one weeks time (in the same month that I stated "I will never live in Dallas, Texas.") the owner of the condo that I was subletting went bankrupt, forcing me to move out, the position that I had at my law firm changed to a "firm-wide" position (meaning I could do it from any city our firm exists), and a guy from Dallas randomly (and I do mean randomly) called - determined to date (and from what he said {God love him} marry) me.

In one week - the tables began to turn. Life started moving quickly and, a few months later, I found myself in a city that I had sworn I would never live. 

The job was horrible... the boy and I were a disaster in the same city {we went from great to irrecoverable in FOUR days} and I was all alone. A native Houstonian, one who had built deep friendships and community, found herself all alone, in a place she had never planned to live.

I have learned that there is ONE, and I mean ONE explanation for Bermuda Triangle moments like that one: And that is The One... The One who had grown tired of my complacency, who was frustrated with my safe zones, and who, praise Him, loves me enough never to be satisfied with less than the best for me. That One said, "Ready or not... here I come. I am going to take you where you never dared to dream. I am going to stretch you more than you have ever been stretched. I am going to make you fully mine."

And so He has. 

Yesterday, on a run through an area of Dallas that has come to be so close to my heart, in a split second, a dog barked, the light hit, the song on my iPod changed, and I began to cry. Because, in that moment, I realized that in this place of no comfort zones, of many questions, of much confusion, I had fallen in love with our Lord all over again... and this time, the love was so much deeper.

I have been up with Him, I have been down with Him - but this time I was just with Him, and I felt Him with me... so close, so deep that it penetrated every fiber of my soul. The only response was tears. The only words that I could produce were "I love you so much. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you for loving me." Knowing fully that, in a moment where words can't even do justice, I had just tasted the tiniest piece of the love that He has for me. I humbly say that I have no idea why He loves me that much, and I know He loves me ten trillion to the infinite degree times more than that. I praise Him that I will have eternity to wonder why, while thankfully basking in the truth that He does.

There will never be a love story more precious than this one. And I can honestly, fully and completely say that, although there are stories in my past that I don't like, I wouldn't trade any silly or sad story that I have for the fact that He allowed me to be lonely enough and longing long enough to taste His love. Because no matter what man comes into my life... and, even in typing this, I grow excited about the idea of loving him with the love I've been given... but, no matter who he is or when or how he arrives, I've already tasted the caviar... I've already driven the Bentley (pardon the Dallas analogies)…  I've felt the beauty, the weight, the consistency, the glory, the indescribable love of our Maker. This man, whoever he is and wherever he may be, will always be second fiddle and praise, I mean PRAISE our God for that, because let's be honest some days he won't even deserve that title. Our God has given me my fountain of love. I have met my Prince... I know Him... I've felt Him... His love is in me and; therefore, in obedience to Him, I will love like He loves me.

So praise Him... praise Him for the tears, the loneliness, the longing, the darkness, the questions, the confusion... praise Him that He allowed me to have only Him.... praise Him.

I don't know if you've found yourself in a similar situation lately or if you've been there before. But, if you feel as though the Lord is stretching you farther than you've ever been stretched, if you feel as though you're about to break… trust me - He is and you aren't.   

Because He loves me - because He loves you, He allows for seasons in our lives where every comfort zone is removed. He, by His grace, forces us to turn fully to Him - to rely fully on Him - to lean so far into Him that we fall... fall in love with Him all over again.

-Biblically Blonde

Spring Has Sprung

Spring is in the air! 

{It must be… I couldn't breathe out of either of my nostrils this morning.}

I love that feeling - not not being able to breathe but the feeling that we're on the cusp of something "new." And everything is feeling new. The weather is changing, spring and summer plans are being made… and, to top that off, Starbucks has just released their new cups and sleeves {they're green and sleek and I love}.

There is something so freeing and refreshing and hopeful about "new." Oh, how I love that we serve a God that majors in "new."

"Because of the LORD’s great love we are not consumed, for His compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness."{Lamentations 3:23 & 24}

Don’t you love that? His compassions - most translations say "mercies" - are new every morning. No matter how much of His love you used up or rejected yesterday, no matter how much of His grace had to be exerted in your life…  you, my dear, have a fresh batch today. 

I mean somebody say "Amen" to that!

However, there is a darker side to Lamentations 3… and that is that the rest of the chapter discusses how the Lord has literally been pelting and pummeling the author.  Tough to stomach, huh? ...That the all gracious, all loving God who grants us a fresh dose of mercy daily also allows and even participates in the pruning that proceeds.

Yet all seasons are purposeful… in the climate and in our lives. There are times of winter - those times of cold, frozen tundras of the soul, but because of the Lord's love Spring always proceeds the winter.

As I walked across the courtyard of my office building this morning, I still saw empty trees, I still saw results of a long a tough winter, but I felt something new…. I felt the cusp of spring. No matter what season you see, in your life today… remember, spring is coming… new things are on their way… great is our God's faithfulness.

-Biblically Blonde

"See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the desert and streams in the wasteland." Isaiah 43:19

If This Isn't Bizarre...

...then I don't know what is.

http://www.hookchasup.com/

I really hope we have some brave reader who will give this a go & then report back... Anyone? Anyone? Susie? Catharine?

- G.G.

Dancing With Shoulders

 

I dreamt last night about my soul mate for the first time. Well, okay. I know we all “dream” about our futures and the men in them, but this time it was more specific. It was only about him. He didn’t have a name or a face. But I dreamt of his shoulders, he was wearing a suit and we were standing very close facing each other. He was looking down at me, but I wasn’t looking up, I was looking at his shoulders, which were big and strong and attached to the arms he had wrapped very tightly around me.
 
Anyone who has ever had a dream knows that they are typically relevant to whatever is going on in your life. Recently I’ve noticed that the more I’m on Facebook, the more often very random people I haven’t spoken to in years pop in and out of my dreams – I attribute this to the fact that my subconscious mind sees their names on a Mini Feed or a friend request and, since I don’t have time during the busy day to stop and wonder what they are up to, they swirl around in my head, waiting to enter my thoughts until I fall asleep. This dream was not totally unprompted however.

This dream was from something I remember very consciously. My father remarried almost exactly one year ago and my then-boyfriend came with me to his wedding. Following a messy divorce, a screenplay’s worth of family drama, and a hasty engagement, my dad moving on so fast was less than perfect. I needed ThenBoyfriend there to support me, to hold my hand, and to basically take my mind of the reality going on around me.

ThenBoyfriend was especially sweet to me all night, even during a brief low point with a few tears, and as the party was winding down we realized that we hadn’t been on the dance floor once. ThenBoyfriend dragged me, or more likely, I pushed him, out the back door. We both needed fresh air anyways.

The band was playing a slow song, and because the reception was at my dad’s house, the dance floor was in our back yard. It was early May and the weather in the tent felt like air conditioning.

So we danced.

We were the only people outside. It was the happiest part of my entire night. My heels had come off and I felt short {which I loved because at 5’ 9” I never feel short}, compared to ThenBoyfriend’s 6’ 2.”

There is a scene in Father of the Bride that I compared this moment to in my mind. At the very end of the film, George and Nina are surveying the damage at their post-wedding reception house, and he takes her hand and they dance as the credits roll. {I don’t like that comparison so much anymore, because that is my favorite movie of all time, and the person I shared that moment with is, well, not quite my favorite person of all time.}

But the memory stays on my heart. In the months after my dad’s wedding, before we broke up, I would play that memory back in my head as I fell asleep. I probably looked like an idiot, wearing a polka-dot eye mask and a huge smile on my face as I drifted off. But it soothed me. Being in a relationship meant someone to dance with, someone to hold me up.

Last night my roommate slept over at her boyfriend’s apartment, something she does often, so I tend to find myself alone most nights. I enjoy my own company and I don’t mind being alone, or even single. It makes me feel independent.

But last night, I succumbed. Maybe it was because it was raining. The thing about being lonely is that it leaves room for you to think about an ex, or worse, kinda sorta miss him. I let my mind wander to that memory again. It was somewhere between conscious thought and that weird limbo state that happens as you are falling asleep that I must have begun to dream. Only this time my dancing partner was faceless. I used ThenBoyfriend more as a prototype, a template. Not to appear as if I have brushed ThenBoyfriend aside too easily, but we have both grieved our relationship and moved on, so I think it’s only fair that I dance with someone else.

That’s when I saw him, we will call him Shoulders. Shoulders really loved me. He was smiling with his eyes, even though he didn’t have eyes in my dream, but I knew he was smiling with them. He was older, maybe I was older too, but I couldn’t think about me, I was too in awe and overwhelmed by happiness. The room we were in was enormous and white, and Shoulder’s didn’t have a face. I don’t mean to say he was a headless horseman type, but his face was fuzzy, like there was a cloud in front of it. The things I knew about him I just knew without seeing, like the fact he was looking down at me. The strongest thing I remember was an understanding that Shoulders and I were close. Our friendship was more important than any romantic-y infatuation I’d felt about boys in real life. Shoulder’s was the best friend that I’d ever had.

But we didn’t dance for very long and I didn’t have any other dreams last night, just this one. This morning I was in a fabulous mood... although it took me an hour after I woke to remember why I was so happy.

I am writing this dream down now because one day, when I know my husband, I want to show it to him. Because I’ll want him to know that he is not my Shoulders.

My Shoulders last night was Christ. It took me that long… it’s 3 pm now… to figure it all out. He loved me unconditionally, He brought me incredible happiness, He comforted me with His warmth and strength. I think that is why this dream was so short, even my unconscious brain couldn’t handle all of His glory.

So why did I need to suffer last night in loneliness? It’s simple really, because Jesus needed to lead my mind to Him, and since He couldn’t reach me subliminally by being tagged in a Facebook album and popping up on my home page, He lead me through this route instead. Loneliness led me to longing, which led me to sleep. And there in my dreams, He reminded me that my loneliness wasn’t necessary at all. I have Shoulders to dance with, and He’s all I need.

So, future husband, now you know. I hope you too dream of Christ and long for Him. I hope through each other we live in His image and come to know His love.

And at the very least, I hope you take some dancing lessons from Him.

- Dream Weaver

I'm Freakin' Exhausted

 

I am addicted to a new workout class. It's the perfect combination of bar and core training (love reliving my ballerina days) and pilates. 

 

During my Saturday class, the woman, on the reforner next to me, was struggling. The instructor came up to her and said, "I know you're tired." With a huge sigh of frustration, she said, "I'm freaking exhausted." I couldn't help but start laughing. I hope she didn't hear me. I wasn't laughing at her. Trust me, my abs were killing me and my legs were about to start uncontrollably shaking. I wasn't laughing at her frustration. I was laughing because, in my quiet time that morning, I had just used those very words with the Lord.

 

Now before you accuse me of blasphemy, please know that I approach the throne humbly and reverently, but I also approach it boldly. I always begin by praising God and reminding myself of who He is, but am always honest about my emotions. What good is it to keep them locked inside or to dress them up to appear prettier or softer? Let us not forget that He already knows what we're thinking and feeling - we might as well put it all out there.

 

So back to my prayer... as I was praying, I heard the Lord whisper - "I know you're tired."  I wrote down, "I'm not tired - I'm freakin' exhausted."  And I am.

 

I have been in such a long season of wandering in the wilderness. Such a very long season. 

 

I was having a sad day, a few days ago, when one of my girlfriends, who had the best of intentions, {seriously, if you are reading this, it was SUCH a kind gesture} sent me two songs to cling to on that day. The songs were Mercy Me, Jesus Bring the Rain, and Phil Wickham, Safe. 

 

I love those songs, but I have loved and clung to those songs for four years now. I can not tell you how many runs I have cried out "If that's what it takes to praise you, then, Jesus, bring the rain..." and I have meant those words with all of my heart. But, here's the thing, He has brought the rain. He has brought a LOT of rain. And I have learned to dance in it. I have learned to trust, against obstacles that speak to the contrary. I have learned to hope, when there was nothing but Him to hope in.  And I have learned to endure, as the rain and sadness and temptation and defeat pour down.  

 

I know He is terrifyingly sovereign. I have learned to praise Him in and through the rain... so can I learn to praise Him in the sun too?

 

I am ready - I am ready for this season to change.

 

Joshua 3:4 states, "and then you will know the way to go. You have never been this way before."

 

The difference between the generation of Israelites who died in the wilderness and those who entered the promise land, was not their belief in God, but their belief that He could actually do what He said He could do through them. Those that wandered in the wilderness for forty years had seen God perform miracles time and time again. They had seen Him be faithful, but they didn't believe that that faithfulness and power would be enough for them to overcome the giants that stood between them and the promise land. 

 

I say what I'm about to say, first saying that I might get a "no" - that I will probably get a "wait" - but I might, I just might get a "yes."

 

I am ready to leave the wilderness. I don't care how scary the next place the Lord calls me seems, I am ready. I know that He is fully capable of carrying me through anything. I know that He is fully capable of doing anything. I know that, if I make it out of this season, it is because He and He alone delivered me. 

 

I'm freakin tired of dancing in the rain... I have seen His goodenss, I am ready for Him to show me His glory. 

 

So come on, God - do your thing... I'm waiting, in anxious anticipation.

 

- Biblically Blonde

What It Means To Be A Texan...

{I couldn't resist... Happy 175th Texas Independence Day}
 

Dear Friends,

Last year, I wrote a small piece about what it means to me to be a Texan. My friends know it means about damned near everything. Anyway, this fella asked me to reprint what I'd wrote and I didn't have it. So I set out to think about rewriting something. I considered writing about all the great things I love about Texas. There are way too many things to list. I can't even begin to do it justice.

Lemme let you in on my short list.

It starts with The Window at Big Bend, which in and of itself is proof of God. It goes to Lake Sam Rayburn where my Grandad taught me more about life than fishin, and enough about fishin to last a lifetime. I can talk about Tyler, and Longview, and Odessa and Cisco, and Abilene and Poteet and every place in between.

Every little part of Texas feels special. Every person who ever flew the Lone Star thinks of Bandera or Victoria or Manor or wherever they call "home" as the best little part of the best state.

So I got to thinkin about it, and here's what I really want to say.

Last year, I talked about all the great places and great heroes who make Texas what it is. I talked about Willie and Waylon and Michael Dell and Michael DeBakey and my Dad and LBJ and Denton Cooley. I talked about everybody that came to mind. It took me sitting here tonight reading this stack of emails and thinkin about where I've been and what I've done since the last time I wrote on this occasion to remind me what it is about Texas that is really great.

You see, this last month or so I finally went to Europe for the first time. I hadn't ever been, and didn't too much want to. But you know all my damned friends are always talking about "the time they went to Europe." So, I finally went. It was a hell of a trip to be sure. All they did when they saw me was say the same thing, before they'd ever met me. "Hey cowboy, we love Texas." I guess the hat tipped em off.

But let me tell you what, they all came up with a smile on their faces.

You know why? They knew for damned sure that I was gonna be nice to em.

They knew it cause they knew I was from Texas. They knew something that hadn't even hit me. They knew Texans, even though they'd never met one.

That's when it occurred to me. Do you know what is great about Texas? Do you know why when my friend Beverly and I were trekking across country to see 15 baseball games we got sick and had to come home after 8? Do you know whyevery time I cross the border I say, "Lord, please don't let me die in_____"? Do you know why children in Japan can look at a picture of the great State and know exactly what it is about the same time they can tell a rhombus from a trapezoid?

I can tell you that right quick. You.

The same spirit that made 186 men cross that line in the sand in San Antonio damned near 165 years ago is still in you today. Why else would my friend send me William Barrett Travis' plea for help in an email just a week ago, or why would Charles Stanfield ask me to reprint a Texas Independence column from a year ago? What would make my friend Elizabeth say, "I don't know if I can marry a man who doesn't love Texas like I do?" Why in the hell are 1,000 people coming to my house this weekend to celebrate a holiday for what used to be a nation that is now a state?

Because the spirit that made that nation is the spirit that burned in every person who founded this great place we call Texas, and they passed it on through blood or sweat to everyone of us.

You see, that spirit that made Texas what it is is alive in all of us, even if we can't stand next to a cannon to prove it, and it's our responsibility to keep that fire burning. Every person who ever put a "Native Texan" or an "I wasn't born in Texas but I got here as fast as I could" sticker on his car understands.

Anyone who ever hung a map of Texas on their wall or flew a Lone Star flag on their porch knows what I mean. My Dad's buddy Bill has an old saying. He says that some people were forged of a hotter fire. Well, that's what it is to be Texan. To be forged of a hotter fire. To know that part of Colorado was Texas. That part of New Mexico was Texas. That part of Oklahoma was Texas. Yep. Talk all you want. Part of what you got was what we gave you. To look at a picture of Idaho or Istanbul and say, "what the Hell is that?" when you know that anyone in Idaho or Istanbul who sees a picture of Texas knows damned good and well what it is. It isn't the shape, it isn't the state, it's the state of mind.

You're what makes Texas. The fact that you would take 15 minutes out of your day to read this, because that's what Texas means to you, that's what makes Texas what it is. The fact that when you see the guy in front of you litter you honk and think, "Sonofabitch. Littering on MY highway."

When was the last time you went to a person's house in New York and you saw a big map of New York on their wall? That was never. When did you ever drive through Oklahoma and see their flag waving on four businesses in a row? Can you even tell me what the flag in Louisiana looks like? I damned sure can't. But I bet my ass you can't drive 20 minutes from your house and not see a business that has a big Texas flag as part of its logo. If you haven't done business with someone called AllTex something or Lone Star somebody or other, or Texas such and such, you hadn't lived here for too long.

When you ask a man from New York what he is, he'll say a stockbroker, or an accountant, or an ad exec. When you ask a woman from California what she is, she'll tell you her last name or her major. Hell either of em might say "I'm a republican," or they might be a democrat. When you ask a Texan what they are, before they say, "I'm a Methodist," or "I'm a lawyer," or "I'm a Smith," they tell you they're a Texan.

I got nothin against all those other places, and Lord knows they've probably got some fine folks, but in your gut you know it just like I do, Texas is just a little different.

So tomorrow when you drive down the road and you see a person broken down on the side of the road, stop and help. When you are in a bar in California, buy a Californian a drink and tell him it's for Texas Independence Day. Remind the person in the cube next to you that he wouldn't be here enjoying this if it weren't for Sam Houston, and if he or she doesn't know the story, tell them.

When William Barrettt Travis wrote in 1836 that he would never surrender and he would have Victory or Death, what he was really saying was that he and his men were forged of a hotter fire. They weren't your average everyday men. Well, that is what it means to be a Texan. It meant it then, and that's why it means it today. It means just what all those people North of the Red River accuse us of thinking it means. It means there's no mountain that we can't climb. It means that we can swim the Gulf in the winter. It means that Earl Campbell ran harder and Houston is bigger and Dallas is richer and Alpine is hotter and Stevie Ray was smoother and God vacations in Texas. It means that come Hell or high water, when the chips are down and the Good Lord is watching, we're Texans by damned, and just like in 1836, that counts for something.

So for today at least, when your chance comes around, go out and prove it. It's true because we believe it's true. If you are sitting wondering what the Hell I'm talking about, this ain't for you. But if the first thing you are going to do when the Good Lord calls your number is find the men who sat in that tiny mission in San Antonio and shake their hands, then you're the reason I wrote this night, and this is for you.

So until next time you hear from me, God Bless and Happy Texas Independence Day.

- "What It Means To Be A Texan" by by Bum Phillips

A Tangled Tale Of Time In The Tower

 

Over Thanksgiving break, my phone rang. It was my boss {one of the most influential partners at my law firm} calling from his home in Connecticut. He wasn't calling to ask my advice or to request my assistance. He was instead calling because he had just finished seeing Disney's Tangled with his four kids and couldn't get over how much the main characters mannerisms and features looked like mine.

 

{At this point, a self respecting working woman would probably have some concern over the fact that her biggest boss had just equated her to a cartoon character, but, fortunately, we're not dealing with one of those... we're dealing with me}

 
And I immediately and honestly responded... "I've always wanted to be a princess" but then I sighed, laughed and said, "but of course I'm the princess that they stuck in the tower...."

 

I saw the movie for the first time last night, and I so pray that I am as joyful and as hopeful as the heroine... I know some days I have to fight for that part of me to be seen, so I don't know if I can claim her mannerisms and her looks, but I do know that I share her frustrations, her fears and her hopeful spirit.

I can not tell you how many nights spent on my couch or in my bed have felt so frighteningly like time trapped in a tower. I can't describe to you how, to the depths of my being, I have felt like someone has pushed a cosmic pause button and said... stay here for a bit... wait.

And I wonder... have you ever felt trapped in a tower too?

One of my mentors told me one night, amidst my tears and sobs over some heartbreak, "True princesses need a lot of time in the tower."

As much as I hate to admit it, I believe that is true.

I am not for a second saying that "tower time" is equated solely to singleness.  Let's instead equate "tower time" to any delayed dream. Not "I dream to live in London or vacation in Italy" but to a deeply desired dream - one that defines you.

Those whom God has called unto Him - those whose hearts are turned to Him -  should be prepared for some delays and some time of pruning.

Hebrews 12:6 is not really a verse that you want to put on your bathroom mirror and gaze at first thing every morning, but it is one that we all need to remember... "the Lord disciplines those He loves, and He punishes everyone He accepts as son."

I don't believe that, on the Saturday nights where I have been left with a half eaten pizza and a pending sense of hopelessness, I was being punished for sins, but I do know, looking back, that I was being pruned.

C. S. Lewis has a great visual that talks about how we, as Christians, want God to come into our lives and do some remodeling. We think, when we let Him in, that He'll add some crown molding... some bookshelves here and there... maybe even some granite or marble. All of the sudden; however, walls start getting knocked down... the roof is being removed... rain... wind... elements... are all pouring in. It's painful. It's difficult. It's a process. Because, see the thing is our God doesn't come in to remodel - He comes in to rebuild. He comes to make us not a better house, but a different house entirely.

And, precious princess, pruning is painful, but it is for your protection and it is for a perfect purpose.

The purpose in your life is different than the purpose in mine and it's different than the purpose in yours and my friends' lives. The purpose is personal, and we thankfully serve a personal God. He knows what we need - He knows where we're going - He's preparing us to be His princess.

I know waiting is hard. I know it is tedious. I know it is painful. I know it does not come naturally. I do not do it easily. I have not done it perfectly. And I most assuredly have and continue to do it with many tears.

 

Yet, in all of our weaknesses, we must cling to the fact that we have a God that majors in the supernatural. We have a God that graces us to walk the path that lies ahead. We have a God that has a plan.

May we trust the author and orchestrator of our faith and may we cling to the fact that, just as the rests in a symphony are not a pause in the music, but a part of the music, so too are the rests in our life. May we remember that the conductor of a symphony is not pausing during the rests, but he is instead counting the beats until the music will play again. So too is your heavenly Father counting the beats during the in the rests of your life.  He is longing to bless you - - He is longing for the music to play again, but He is waiting - - He is waiting intentionally - - He is waiting lovingly - - He is waiting with an eternal purpose.

So, with that, I will leave you with the words of Naomi to Ruth in chapter three, verse eighteen of the book of Ruth, "Wait, my daughter, until you find out what happens...."  

 

Wait... wait... and watch out, because when your Heavenly Father... the orchestrator of your story says it's time, He will waste no time, and when He cues your music to play - get ready to have your breath taken away.

 

So back to Tangled... Rapunzel, right before she is about to see the "bright lights" - her dream, her destiny -  unfold, for the first time, she says, "I'm terrified... what if it isn't as amazing as I imagined?" The hero, in the story, looked at her and replies, "It will be - it will be more." 

 

Rest your hope in the Lord, the true hero of your story, and I assure you - "It will be... it will be more."

 

-B.B.