Pure Goodness

In Him Is found no thought or unjust deed.
Now for the picture, I think the translator took some liberties with this, but the overall message and truth of God's unending goodness still stand.
I found it very encouraging to be reminded that even though there may be pain of any sort (sacrifice, burdens, physical pain, emotional aches, etc), God is aware if it. And He doesn't waste our obedience and He never ceases to make good out of mistakes. Put another way, He never ceases to be good. Even though we may not understand how something will work out, the fact remains that God cannot be anything but good.

A P'ea'ce of Pie

He came in asking if I had “a minute to have a piece of pie” with him.

I was on the clock, but the restaurant was empty except for he, me and one other worker. I had time. My heart swelled with pleasure at being thought of, sought out, and offered a gift that was clearly more than pie. It was a gift of time.

“I believe I do!” I said while internally feeling an almost disturbing sense of giddiness. Where did that come from?

We settled at a table with coffee and pie and enjoyed some catch-up chatting time as we ate bites of apple and coconut crème.

“What are you doing this far out, Grandpa?”

“Getting feed and then I saw a little Mercedes parked out there,” he motioned to the parking lot outside, “and thought I’d see if the owner was hungry for pie.”

Maybe I wasn’t hungry for pie exactly… my hunger went much deeper than my stomach. That strange giddiness that wasn't wearing off as fast as I would have liked was proof enough of that. It was a hunger and a need to know someone cared and that I was loved…it seemed like a weakness, but whether it was a weakness or not, I was painfully aware of its existence.  But somehow with each bite of pie, with each genuine question of  interest, and with each little encouragement, my deeper hunger was being satisfied.

Too soon, other customers came in and needed my attention. Grandpa said, “I don’t want to keep you from your work. I’ll let you get back to it. Thanks for eating pie with me.” He stood to pay.

“$6.82” I said after I plugged the purchase into the register. He paid and pressed another bill into my hand.

“Get some gas in that car.” He said with a wink.

"Thanks for coming in, Grandpa." I said as I hugged him goodbye.

How did he know? Or maybe it is just obvious that I’m one of the many going-on-broke college students out there. But more than that, I know he wanted to bless me. And he did. He blessed me far beyond the blessing of pie and gas money, he blessed me with his time, presence and his love.

For a few minutes I was not the busy, success-minded, restless and driven university student. Instead, Grandpa let me be the little granddaughter who got to soak up her grandpa’s adoration for her.  He managed to touch that hunger within me that was deeper than my stomach. And I found peace in a few moments with him and a piece of pie.

                                                 -----------

 I wrote this occurrence from my life because not only is it sentimental, but because of how it relates to humanity and God.  I was so keenly aware of that deeper hunger in me and that unsettling need to be loved, valued and thought of.  We all have a need as deep as the depths of our souls to be loved and accepted, and God offers us that through his Son, Jesus.  And only He can truly satisfy.

When Cows Escape

I use farm animals as examples quite a bit. I suppose that is just the most natural thing for me to do since I have been blessed to have grown up with their living, albeit animal, expressions of God's creativity and character. Watching them, seeing them grow and interacting with the critters has taught me countless invaluable lessons from which I tend to draw my blog posts. 


This one is no exception. 


God is love. He is loving, full of love, lovely, lovable, etc. But His very being is that of Love. He is also creative and personal. Full of goodness and grace for us, His beloved creation. 
Cows, on the other hand...oh they're cute alright. Until they turn 5 months old, or until weaning time when they are endlessly bawling for their mothers to come rescue them from the evil humans who are keeping them apart and denying them of their precious milk. Cows are dirty, they make messes that we call pies for some reason, and stick their tongues up their noses to lick out their own snot -which, because of where tongues usually come from, it all ends up in their mouths. That leads me to recall this: Cows eat grass. Which means they spend most of their lives with their noses pressed fairly close to the ground, and eating whatever dirt and bugs are on the blades of grass along with whatever else makes it's way in front of the living lawn mower. Eating grass...yum. Yet another thing about cows is that they need to be protected. A few of them have survival intelligence but most simply do not. A fence is the typical boundary and although it keeps the cattle in a confined area, it does serve as protection. Protection from their own stupidity and protection from whatever carnivorous creatures might be lying in wait on the other side. 


Now, don't get me wrong. I love cows! They are great creatures and only someone as creative as the God I serve could have come up with them! But allow me to draw an analogy for the sake of the point I would like to make later on.


                 God : Man  as  Man : Cow  (verbalized, that is: God is to Man as Man is to Cow)


Please bear with me as I make my "argument". God made Man in His own image, and though it is quite true that Man did not make a cow, for the sake of the following example, stick to the analogy until I'm done. Then feel free to tell me how ridiculous my analogy is. :)  Also, if you're offended that "cow" now takes up the position where "man" once was...I am not sorry at all. 


OK. God created Man with parts of His own characteristics and we all reflect Him in some way. And while cows don't exactly reflect us, in view of God being compared to man, I am actually willing to suggest that they do indeed reflect us more than we'd like to admit.
After all, we need protection. We need boundaries so we don't kill ourselves with our own stupidity. We make messes (we even make pies!) and we feed ourselves things that are bad for us, and can hardly see a step in front of our faces because we have our noses pressed to the dirt of all the things of our very important personal lives all the time. If we just could step back and see things from a little more distance, I wonder how much more we would see and understand. All that being said, we are cows. 


Story time:
Cow can be pretty dumb (hey look! another thing we have in common!). But something that they don't realize (brace yourself for yet another similarity), is that that fence that I mentioned earlier is for their benefit. Not because we  humans want to be all overly controlling and domineering and forcing them into submission with an iron hand (which is, unfortunately, how humans often view God). We want to protect the cows and their calves. They are valuable and important, so we treat them well and protect them. 
Occasionally, they lose sight of that and decide to escape. For awhile they are happy with their new found freedom until....well until they get hungry. Sometimes, though, they find some grass that keeps them happy and they set up a little refugee camp. But, like I said, those cows are valuable to us and frankly, they belong to us, so what do we do?
When this happens, my siblings and I grab a few buckets, some grain and a stick and head off to gather our lost bovine herd. 


When we find them, we coax them back into the correct side of the fence with the grain. Usually, that works great! Usually. We are gentle, speak in soft, comforting tones and we pet them to get them to relax and trust us.
But there is always a crazy one. One in every herd gets a little ADD or is just obstinate and blind to the fact that there is more freaking delicious grain waiting for them at home! Sometimes, this cow needs a stick poked into its rump to get it moving in the right direction. 
I don't like to use the stick. But sometimes I don't have a choice. I much prefer to use the grain and reward them for following me back to the place where they belong. Sometimes it is just clear that they forgot how much they need you and when they remember that it's the people who give them what they need, it is like you can almost see a smile on their faces as they run towards you with their ears flapping around. Almost. 


Remember the analogy. Are you an ADD or obstinate cow? Are you a cow who just kinda forgets where all the good stuff comes from? Are you too eager to leave the protection that the fence provides?


I, as one of the ones who would gather lost cows, know that the preferable way to do it is with the kind and gentle heart that gives them grain and reminds them why they want to come back home. I do not want to have to use the stick, but I will if the cow asks for it by ignoring me and disobeying me. I know that if I came to them with fireworks and was beating them with a stick to get their attention, I would have it alright. They would see me as dangerous and frightening and I would be driving them AWAY from me instead of TO me.


When we leave the fence, the safety net of protection that God has set up for us, and we get all independent and stuff, God approaches us gently, with grace and mercy. If we force His hand, though, He may have to use the stick of discipline, but that isn't how He wants to approach us. When we finally realize that the grace and mercy that He has for us is overwhelming, we have the choice to follow Him or reject Him and try to handle our "freedom". Isn't it wonderful how God approaches us gently and tries to draw us towards Him instead of sending us even farther away from where we belong by being harsh? 
Sometimes, when we force God's hand to use the stick on us, we view it as harshness from God. But I would argue that it is still His mercy and grace. After all, if I were to leave my cows outside the fence, I would be condemning them to hunger, danger, and ultimately death. So it is still good and merciful of me to use the stick to get the stubborn, distracted, or wild ones back to safety. For their own benefit and so that I, as the one who values them, can have peace knowing that what I love is safe within my care.


This isn't meant to be a "which kind of naughty cow are yooooou?" post. Rather, I would like you to look at the analogy I laid out in view of God's mercy and grace towards you. He is not a harsh God. He does not want to punish or frighten what is precious to Him so that they flee even farther from His presence. Instead, He wants to woo us and coax us and remind us why we should learn to follow and love Him more.


For He is love. He is good. And He loves and is good to us -so much more than we realize.

What if...?

I'll keep this short and sweet. Something to chew on a little bit!

What if God said this to you, "Is my infinite-ness and greatness not infinite and great enough to hand the minor or petty things in your life?"

Well, He said that to me. In context and how it looks for me is something along these lines:
I need a parking space. If you happen to know where I am currently living, you know that it is no small task to find a parking spot. Especially on a weekend night.

My mental process = Oooo. a test of patience... I can handle this. I'll scout out a spot even if it takes all night!!!! *sees a spot open up just in time for a different car to pull in* 'Jerk!!'

And on it goes.

Then it hit me. No.... it couldn't be! Was I possibly denying God an opportunity to bless me by taking control? Was I somehow thinking that He was either too busy or too apathetic to provide me with a parking space? I know his has the CAPABILITY to do such things...but why didn't I submit such a small thing to Him and just take control of it myself...especially when He is so very able to bless me with a place to park.

So I started asking Him, "God, you know my needs, but would You please show me a place to park this car?"
And since then...every time, there has either been a car leaving the parking lot, or a space came into my view within 5 minutes....which (so you get an idea) is a miracle. He is so so good.

What the case for you?
Is there something small that you need to trust God with? Will you allow Him to be that provider that is full of endless blessings and grace toward you? Can you see that His infinite-ness goes both ways -concerning the tiny as well as the huge things?

I'm still processing this and God continues to change my perspective of Who He Is.

Is God's infinite-ness and greatness not infinite and great enough to handle the little things as well as the big things that go on in your life? Are you willing to let His blessings permeate every single area of your day to day life?

Impinting

Imprinting. Do you know what that is?

im·print Verb /imˈprint/

imprinting present participle; imprinted past tense; imprints3rd person singular present; imprinted past participle

1. Impress or stamp (a mark or outline) on a surface or body
2. Make an impression or mark on (something)
3. Fix (an idea) firmly in someone's mind
4. (of a young animal) Come to recognize (another animal, person, or thing) as a parent or other object of habitual trust

Check out the third and forth definitions listed above. And here's a story:


I had this pair of geese.
Now...most people hate geese, but not I. I love geese. And my geese were wonderful. The pair came by mail order in a cardboard box. The two were barely a day old, and were attentive and eager to learn. As I watched them, something in goose character became evident to me very quickly.
Sure dogs and cows and other domestic animals learn that people can take care of them and they can be trained, but geese are a little different in the fact that they get very particular about who they will listen too. Geese imprint deeply. You have probably all heard stories about how if you watch a goose hatch and it sees your first, then it will think you are it's mother. Well, that is basically true. I didn't have the pleasure of watching my geese hatch, but in their infancy, they immediately latched on to me as a parent.


First thing in the morning, I'd say good morning to my mom and instantly baby goose noises and peeps would erupt from the basement. They had heard me and knew I was coming. So I'd head downstairs and as soon as they saw me with their eyes the excitement in them doubled. It was like they were screaming "She's here!! She's here!!!" And they'd make a mad dash over to the side of the box where they could be closest to me.
As they got older, they graduated from the box to be able to spend longer amounts of time outside. When I would get them out in the grass, it was an unspoken rule that they could venture out and explore, but as soon as I spoke to them, they would come waddling over to me. They didn't understand what I said, but my voice was familiar to them as I talked to them my voice became something they listened for attentively. I quickly found that they loved to eat out of my hands. I'd pick them grass or dandelion leaves and hold them out for them to take. The geese would come sit on or by my leg and wait for me to feed them. There was grass everywhere, but they especially wanted what I had to picked to give them.


My dad would sometime say in amazement, "Wooooow..." because of how well the goslings knew me. They easily could tell me apart from anyone else, and followed so closely behind me that they would run into my heels at times. Anytime I talked they'd pipe up with their own squeaks (that eventually grew into their honking tones), because they knew me.


They got all mature and all that, so naturally they decided that water was an attractive thing, so we played in water troughs splashing and flicking water all over the place. I had so much fun with them! Right after getting wet was the ritual "dry in the sun" time where I stroked their wings and necks while they slept in a warm sunny spot. Later, when they became more independent, they went on walks without me to the pond for the afternoon, but as soon as I would call them, they'd rush back up to the house or barn. Because I called them. Because they knew my voice. They didn't listen to anyone else. When they'd cause trouble, I would often hear "Brenna! Get your goose!!" So, as was my responsibility, I'd take care of whatever was the issue.


One day the geese came to me, but one was shaking his head at funny angles and the female was making worried croaky noises. Wondering what was the matter (because I knew their behavior wasn't normal), I sat down with them and spoke gently, encouraging them to come close so I could see.
He wasn't thrilled when I grabbed him and pinned him by holding him in place between my knees, and he was even more ticked when I took his beak, and forced it open. Both geese were upset with my by then. They made their distressed noises that broke my heart and the female came close to her mate to try to be of comfort. Turns out, there was a cotton string wrapped around the gander's tongue, and it was making him have trouble swallowing. But even though they were still upset, I knew that this bit of trauma was better for them than leaving the string where it was. I got the string out and released the gander and did my best to comfort them, but it took them a few days to let the grudge go and to forgive (or forget what happened entirely) me for grabbing the gander.
As much as I wished they could see that what I did was helpful, they couldn't understand really. And I knew that. It's just that there was something much more important to me than how they felt about me at the moment. That was their welfare. I had to help! Even if it affected how they typically saw me as protector, provider, comforter, and playmate for awhile.


----


I have two main points for telling you this story.


One point is near the beginning, but is very much linked to the second point. It is this: Both geese and sheep come in groups that are called flocks (more specifically for geese, it is called a gaggle. But the flock idea remains.) Both flocks and gaggles often need shepherds and for my geese, since I raised them and they could distinguish me from other people, I was their shepherd. And just as my geese grew to know, love, and respond to my voice, so should it be with us and Jesus, who is our shepherd.
Just as my geese knew my voice, ate from my hand, trusted me to provide, relaxed and slept in my presence, got excited when I called them, played with me, and honked to/with me, just as I can, as God's child, can know His voice, savor His presence, get excited about what He's doing, etc. etc. etc. We need to be imprinted to God, just like my geese were imprinted to me.


God and I had something in common. We were both shepherds, and I and anyone who knows me well can tell you that I loved my geese very much I loved to go sit with them, talk, care, feed, stroke, comfort, guarde, and play with them. All of it! I loved it!!
The experience of having them has been a highlight in my upbringing. It was one of my favorite things. Like... ever. In the same way, God loves to bee all that for you and me as well.
I know a shepherd's heart. It is well meaning, intimate, and from a more knowledgeable perspective than its flock.


Point numero dos:
Sometimes, the shepherd has to "hurt" in order to help. Like when I upset the geese to get the string out of the gander's mouth and throat. But it was for his benefit. Similarly, God may "damage" or remove something from or in you or me to HELP. He can see the hurt it is causing and know that a little pain and uncertainty now will be so much better than leaving things how they are.
Allow god to change whatever it is. Don't grudge Him for it either, because it is for your benefit.