It's Because of the Guy at McDonalds

I consider that our present sufferings 

are not worth comparing 

with the glory that will be revealed in us. 

Romans 8:18

It's because of the guy at McDonalds that I can keep my sanity... Let me back up. It's because of the guy at McDonalds that hugged me when I shared a book with him that I can keep my sanity... Let me back up even further, a long way back.

Three and a half years ago my son died. Three and a half years ago I realized that this life is short and there is nothing more important than where you are with Jesus Christ, and if you know where you are, then there is nothing more important than what you are doing with that knowledge. Three years ago I wrote a book. There was no choice. The words came out as God led and I could only try to keep up fast enough to get them typed. Then I handed it over, typos and all, to what the Holy Spirit would choose to do with it.

And He's done a lot.

A lot that I don't know about, and honestly, have asked to not know about lest I would boast, but rather try to content myself to wait for eternity to see the quantity and depth of the transformed lives that will come about because of our required brokenness. We have sold quite a few books, pouring the money back into the ministry fund which has been then used to buy more copies until we have been able to give away hundreds of gospel saturated material including various books. There are times that I go weeks without being to look at the book, knowing what story it tells. Times where the thought of it brings panic attacks and stuttering words, a total incapability to put my hand into my purse and pull out a copy. In those times God has always raised up another servant to share them.

But then there are days like today. Days when an impulse as innocent as impromptu hunger pains and an overwhelming desire for a medium fry turns into {Lord Willing} a changed eternity. The circumstances were crazy. The timing perfect. A week ago a worker fainted during the lunch rush hour at the busy burger joint. This afternoon, the very moment the same man who was standing in the same place and watched the fall only days ago, stood ordering another fish burger then proceeded to wait beside me as I was waiting for a correction on my order. We talked of death right next to the Happy Meal toys. Discussed meeting God face to face: him his mother, me my son. I handed him a book, then to my surprise, he wrapped his scruffy arms around me.

"You've blessed me," he said, this desolate stranger at McDonalds.

Rarely do I even go inside to order at McDonalds. Hardly ever does the cashier not make a mistake, but today I praised God for the missed chicken burger. Every so often the circumstances line up perfectly when a brief opening of the Heavenly realm, where the Spirit speaks clearly and the power is overwhelming, demands that there is no choice but to pull out a book.

How I praised God today because of that guy at McDonalds. Praised Him for giving a glimpse of that which I said I didn't want to be satisfied in: trading satisfaction in God's work for satisfaction in God Himself. But sometimes He gives both, doesn't He? Us, with our impatience, lack of discernment, and total ignorance of the good plans He has for our lives, who think that God isn't doing anything. How easily we get discouraged over the way God is working things out for His glory. I am convinced that if we saw one glimpse of eternity it would be enough to cause us to trust Him for the rest of our lives, no matter what the details.

That guy at McDonalds was a glimmer of a glimpse.

Tomatoes

Tomatoes. It was the first time in nearly a decade that they haven't come from my own garden - planted, weeded, picked and hauled in by the basketful - which only made them a greater blessing to receive. Our summer was not marked by the soil this past season, not by the last frost, ripe radishes, bean or pickle harvests, or the excess of sweet corn and spaghetti squash to share. Instead, I only had to put my coffee cup down and open the door to a friend who was more than glad to rid himself of his overabundance. An afternoon washing, peeling and canning was spent beside a rather grumpy teenage girl (No names need be mentioned since this is a public blog and all. Protect the ornery people, right?) who obviously does not see the benefits of homemaking in her future.

Sigh.

I'm tired.

My third teenager in a row, with one more to go, Lord willing, and the gament of creative discipline is running thin. Hand cuffs were the next threat. This girl who, as of only a couple days ago, wanted nothing else but to crawl into my bed and stay close teeters the very next minute to puberty hormones and all that entails. The knees of my heart will soon be wore out with all the prayers that have been going Heavenward.

Sigh.

I'm tired.

Tomatoes. Sustenance for our bodies to be enjoyed in the upcoming cold winter months. Pure torture, if used in the right context, for training up the next generation.

Time to be Back

I've been away from this little spot in cyberspace for quite some time now. The consuming addiction of blogland and all that goes along with it has been one of the primary reasons- if you are a blogger you know what I'm talking about: the rat race of keeping up and wondering how much is too much, not too much, write for yourself, write for an audience, topics, fancy pictures, waiting for comments, keeping up with the Joneses, etc., etc. 

Our world's craze of everybody knowing everything may come back to bite us all, and personally, as my sister has said before, when people know the color of the kitchen towel hanging from your stove, it might be time to tone things down a bit. But then there is the other crazy hope that not all the words are futile. Hope that God is in some of them, and that they would be words and posts saturated with life changing messages.

A quiet time of processing my own thoughts in my head has been interesting. Not necessarily good, but interesting. Living without blogging, after doing it for so many years, has been strange. I process by writing. My head is spinning from its own thoughts and nowhere to put them down and sort them out. The Alzheimer's side effect of grief tends to make conversations difficult. Words on a computer screen make sense.

Living has been another reason to be silent. Walking with my children. Fishing at the nearby lake. Movies and giggles and fights. Home school and books in bed at night. Baking dessert, then eating the leftovers together for breakfast. Dates and dreams and life changing decisions. Grieving. Always grieving. Laughter among the hidden tears.

But it's time to be back. Time to share what God is doing. As it says up above there in the header,

An attempt to declare the Glory of God for what He has chosen to do with our lives.

A legacy to leave to my children in the telling of it.

So here goes the attempting again.