Brenda’s Blog – September 8, 2020

“On the road again – making music with my friends.” – Willie Nelson

Quarantining, sequestering, isolating, sheltering – all synonyms for taking my car keys away.

For decades traveling the roads of America with four favorite wheels underneath me has brought opportunities for ministry, connection, and development. March, 2020 changed me from road warrior to home body.

In 2019 plans for an annual trip to The Cove (Billy Graham Training Center in Asheville, North Carolina) with friends highlighted the August 2020 calendar. Months passed and the probability of the trip dimmed. However, my intrepid, traveling spirit took charge and with great caution (a 10 day supply of masks and disinfectants) I drove from Texas into the great beyond.

Not only did I attend The Cove, but I added eight stops to visit friends unseen for years. We made music together: stories of God’s provision, protection, and promises. We laughed as we recalled long ago experiences and shared friendships. In the letter to Philemon Paul thanks him for being a refreshment. This verse reverberated over and over as I drove mile after mile. The refreshment of the Spirit poured over each visit.

I once was asked to write out a summary of my ideal job. I found the paper (I don’t throw anything away!) recently. “My perfect job would be to travel by car cross-country, encouraging other Christian friends in the truth of God and the power of the Spirit.” WOW! My Willie Nelson adventure in the throes of pandemic fleshed out this desire. I was on the road again and indeed was making the music of connection with my friends.

Your refreshment may not be a road trip, but look for those who bring life and hope to you, especially in these days. And consider how to brighten the spirits of others, helping them to make their own music.

Brenda’s Blog – August 25, 2020

“I did it and have the T-shirt to prove it!” I have heard this about jobs, parenting, athletic events, and even eating contests.
My closet is full of Tees from travels, most of them very old and way too small for me now. But I keep them because they remind me of great experiences.

My grandson lives on hand-me-downs and thrift store offerings. Consequently, he has tees from a variety of colleges, cities, and sporting events. Often he is asked if he is a graduate of the college whose shirt he is wearing. People just assume he is a student. But no – he is the recipient of someone else’s history.

How often do we adopt someone else’s story instead of creating our own? Isn’t it easier to borrow someone else’s credibility rather than earning our own?

How often do we take on the spiritual background of someone else without establishing our own? I once knew a man who as an adult was challenged by his mentor to “stop riding my spiritual coattails and get your own testimony.” He was wearing someone else’s t-shirt.

Sometimes I randomly glance through my shirts and pause to remember – moments of time travel. Some make me laugh while others bring a few minutes of reflection. But then I fold them, put them back in the closet and promise to do something with them “someday.”

I have a friend whose wife mistakenly used a beloved, but ratty, t-shirt as a cleaning cloth. He almost cried as he explained the significance of the concert tee from his glorious days of youth.

What do our shirts say about us? Volunteer efforts, jobs, travels, athletic pursuits, political affiliations, holidays, or maybe faith statements? We Americans live a t shirt life. Every once in a while perhaps we should take inventory and consider what they say about us, our beliefs, and our character.

We will always go on proclaiming our experiences to the world, bear advertising like living sign boards, and announce our proud loyalties, won’t we? Let’s just make sure they rightly express who we are.

Brenda’s Blog – August 11, 2020

“Hey, there – you in the cage!”

The billboard on Interstate 75 in Florida caught my eye and certainly made me laugh. The sponsor? Harley-Davidson, of course. Those flying freely down the highway on their roaring cycles look at us in cars as zoo animals in cages.

Two of my friends chose to ride from Texas to California on a bike as their honeymoon of choice – his choice, may I add? She had very few hours of preparation and reported the recovery time wasn’t pleasant. Happily after decades, they are still married, but the cross-country rides are a distant memory.

During a time of change I decided buying a bike and hitting the mountains of Colorado was for me. I cut out pictures of serpentine highways, pasting them on my bathroom mirror. I signed up for motorcycle classes and headed out to fulfill my dream. The “beginners” notation on the course was a true misnomer. How did I know? I was the only one in the class not to arrive on my own very large and loud bike! I got the highest score on the written test. When we actually got to the riding part I failed miserably. So miserably that I was asked to leave. I flunked the class.

Some of us are meant to see the USA on 2 wheels and others are happy to travel the roads locked in a cage with Sirius radio.

I went home, threw away the fantasy pics, pulled out my atlas, and started planning the first of many trips across America. When the bikes whiz by me there is a tug perhaps for a second or two. But when it is pouring rain and they are hunkered down beneath an overpass I am thankful for my dry cage.

All of us have dreams – and to be truly fulfilled we must understand and appreciate when they are honestly ours, and not just a reaction to circumstances. I wanted to embrace change in my life by becoming someone I had never been and would never be. When I saw my cage as the delightful means of experiencing marvelous sights and sounds I learned satisfaction.

Brenda’s Blog – July 28, 2020

In these uncertain times we often feel out of place. We long for the confidence of belonging but experience displacement instead.

Thomas More wrote of an ideal place called Utopia. It had no ills, no disharmony, and no conflict – it was perfect. Generations later we continue to desire utopia, don’t we? We see chaos, turmoil, and deprivation and our hearts yearn for the world described by More.

Ironically, the word “Utopia” is Latin meaning “no place.” The idea of perfection is impossible; this concept is from a philosopher’s imagination. But our culture took the idea and turned it into an expression of the belief that man can create such a place.

The arts are full of references to having a place. Paul Tournier, the Swiss psychiatrist, wrote of A Place for You. Michael W. Smith lamented his search for A Place in this World. George Stevens produced a film titled A Place in the Sun. No shortage of people searching for a place!

Even Jesus addressed the topic. He told us He would be going to the Father in order to “prepare a place for you… that where I am you may be also.” That is the cry of the heart – the provision of a true, satisfying place. Instead of Utopia which is “no place” because it doesn’t exist – this will be heaven for it will be life everlasting.

Brenda’s Blog – July 14, 2020

“Beep, beep, beep!”

Growing up I loved a funny little faux sci-fi series “Lost in Space.” The robot who guarded young Will Robinson gave us an iconic phrase which exists to this day among all of us old folks. When the adventuresome, though innocent, youngster crossed into treacherous territory the robot would intone, “Danger, danger, Will Robinson.”

My car was obviously designed by a devotee of the tv series for it has a safety feature which warns me of possible trouble – and absolutely aggravates me. When I wander close to the line on either side of the lane it has an alarm which continues until I straighten up and fly right.

One day I discovered a switch on the steering wheel which deactivated the beep, beep, beep. What relief! Now I could drive without pangs of conscience.

Was this a good thing? Did this remind me of the “guardian of my soul – the Holy Spirit?” What about those time when my life wandered toward the edge? How about those thankfully infrequent moments when the wheels of my life drove way too close to the other side of the yellow line?

Praise be to God His alarm isn’t so easily disabled. The Spirit prods, warning us of trespass. It consistently goes “beep, beep, beep, Brenda. Here is the way walk in it. Turn your wheels back onto the straight and narrow.”

I can ignore the Spirit’s beeping, certainly, but the price is high. The wise decision is to tune my ear to the “danger, danger” signals and willingly realign. The old hymn Trust and Obey has a terrific line: “trust and obey for there’s no other way to be happy in Jesus than to trust and obey.” For me that means turning up the volume on the warning and staying in step with the Spirit.

Brenda’s Blog – June 30, 2020

“54 hours, 48 miles, 45 pound pack, 36 warrior stations, 29 team building exercises, 6 hours of sleep, and 2 meals.”

THAT is the outline of The Crucible, a final grueling element of Marine basic training. My grandson, Colby Hurd, underwent this severe test in order to move from Recruit Hurd to Marine Hurd. Family and friends all over the world lit a candle and prayed for his endurance, strength, protection, and faith. We came together on his behalf knowing he was going past what his mind allowed, pushing his body to extremes.

I will never be a Marine. I will never persevere such a trial. I will never experience pushing my body beyond any normal (for me) expectations. But in my life I have been in crucibles designed to take me out of my independence into dependence and reliance on God. I bet you have, too.

The crucible is a container for melting metal. Its name derived from the original shape of the bowls which were shaped like a cross. The Latin word for cross is crux.

We know in scripture we see the picture of the refiner’s fire. The process of clarifying metal is multiple exposure to high temperatures which causes the slag to rise and be pulled off. Time after time and heating after heating, this continues until all dross is removed. We have all heard sermons using this analogy in the walk of faith. We understand and identify with the experience, don’t we?

Spiritual maturity and growth occur as we lean on God in circumstances which are overwhelming. “Where can I go but to Jesus?” is the question asked during these crucible seasons.

I am proud of Colby for coming through. I hope he felt the prayers of hundreds who lifted him up for those hours. We are a community of faith who stand (and kneel) with each other as the fire heats up, and the demands increase. The crucible will come – may the Spirit of God bring us together supporting one another. And may we be thankful for a God who wants to refine and purify us.

Brenda’s Blog – June 16, 2020

“Spontaneous voices began singing the national anthem, celebrating health care workers.”

As I write this Italy is essentially shut down with people quarantined, hospitalized, and desperately ill with the COVID19 virus. Anxiety shows on faces throughout the world. Grocery stores feature empty shelves and customers load up on toilet paper!

Where darkness threatens to envelope, hope lights a match. This time it was a song.

An Italian street broke out in song as men, women, and children stood on balconies lifting up the national anthem. One after another window opened with heads popping out. The sound reverberated down the old stone-clad Italian street.

For a few minutes the isolation of quarantine disappeared. Neighborly encouragement spread organically. Then as medical professionals walked with weary steps back to the hospitals, the applause began. Soon, they were cheered on by grateful residents. Hope filled the air.

Right now we are living with uncertainty. We are told to self-quarantine and keep a significant social distance from others. The isolation can create anxiety leading to depression. What should be out response?

What song should we be singing? Who should we be encouraging? What spontaneous praise can erupt from deep in our souls?

There is a deep, natural aquafer where I live. It is ancient and free running. Hope and joy are very much like that. We can dip into the waters of renewal, sharing it with others during seasons of doubt.

We must stand on our balconies, loudly singing our songs, bringing light to the darkness and music to the silence of separation.

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Brenda’s Blog – June 2, 2020

“Why do we do this?”

The small girl in the restroom stood next to her Mom at the sink. “Wash your hands and put on sanitizer.” “Mommy, why do I do this?” “I don’t know – we just do, so go ahead and get it done.”

I smiled to myself, then thought — how many times in life do we act in an automatic way not really knowing why, just knowing we are to do.

When my siblings and I grew up we were familiar with ‘Because I said so.” The three of us were all strong willed, challenging Mom constantly. We knew, though, that the arguments stopped when she gave us “the look” followed by “Because I said so.” No more arguments.

Habits are essential to get us through each day without burning out our brains. Today we talk about “hacks” which are shortcuts… that is the role habits play. We don’t stop to wonder why – we just do. Unfortunately, this is a two-edged sword: we have good and bad habits which kick in without much concentration.

Dad had a colleague who attributed his success to good habits. His perspective on their use interested me. “I don’t use my habits for the days I want to work – that takes care of itself; I use my habits when I don’t want to work.”

Years ago I began reading the Psalms systematically: 1) the psalm with the number of the day 2) the psalm adding 30 each time e.g. Day 1 is Psalm 1 plus 31, 61, 91, 121. Then I read the Proverb of the day. During a dark season in my life I struggled with Bible reading until my habit kicked in. The habit established years before served me well until I could get back on my feet.

The little girl asked her Mom the “why” of washing her hands. She knew nothing about Coronavirus, but she knew this was something new. Mom didn’t really know why, but she knew it was what everyone said to do. Although it is good to have a rationale for our actions, sometimes we kick into habit and just do it.

Brenda’s Blog – May 19, 2020

Growing up in the cold war era of the 1950s, I learned the fine art of “ducking and covering.” In case you missed this, let me explain.

The United States established an agency known as Civil Defense to protect us from the effects of an atom bomb attack. School children rehearsed climbing under desks with their hands covering their heads. Children riding bikes were trained to jump quickly into covered areas – and again, ducking and covering. The trigger for these responses was simple: the sight of a giant light explosion in the sky reflecting the explosion of an atom bomb.

Sounds silly, doesn’t it? But ask anyone in their late sixties, or definitely in their seventies. “Duck and cover” was a finely honed skill!

We now know by the time we see a bright flash in the heavens we are already vaporized. Putting a newspaper over your face would be your last earthly action.

Feeling in control is foundational to human nature. Acknowledging the helplessness of forecasting an atomic bomb drop created panic. SO…teaching us all, especially the children to take charge of our destiny made sense to a governmental agency. Don’t you wonder if they chuckled as they handed out yellow hardhats with the prominent CD logo emblazoned on them?

We haven’t changed a great deal. We look at our fears, creating methods to overtake them. We speak affirmations early in the morning to set us on our paths. We establish our own ritual of duck and cover to ward off the effects of potential failures.

Now, as in the 50s, there is only one fail-proof protection – The Lord God Almighty. As the hymnist says, “when morning gilds the skies, my heart awakened cries, ‘may Jesus Christ be praised.’” Yes, we use our wills to devise helpful disciplines, but we know where our ultimate trust lies.

Brenda’s Blog – May 5, 2020

“You haven’t changed one bit. You look just like you did years ago!”

It had been 16 years since I was together with this friend. At first blush these words cheered my aging heart (and ego), even though I knew she was wrong.

As the glow faded, the thought occurred to me, “Brenda, if I think about that seriously, it is an indictment. Have you changed since college? Do you have new interests, new skills, deeper knowledge, more wisdom?”

Sadly, I admitted I improved on skills already developed by age 20, deepened my interest in subjects already introduced in early life, and practiced habits created in my 30s. But am I a different woman, or simply a more experienced model of my younger self?

Then, I switched the direction. “Perhaps you set your life course early, establishing your core values at a young age.” I think there is truth in that. My Breakfast With Fred work requires me to read thousands of words written by my Dad throughout his life. One of my ah-ha’s has been the way his foundational thinking matured, but did not change over decades. At 30 he held beliefs expressed in his 80s.

So, then what is the conclusion? Being a more solid Brenda founded on a firm faith is a good thing. Failing to add new skills, new interests, and experiences is not. Allowing fear to keep me from joining in on uncomfortable activities (like learning new games, singing solos, zip-lining, snorkeling, or hiking mountains) leave me unchanged.

Growing requires pushing beyond known boundaries. Perhaps I can risk a bit and the next time I see her she will tell me “You look like you are having great fun in your old age!”