Our house has been in sickness mode this past week.  Our youngest family member came down with the flu.  She is already feeling better and, thankfully, the rest of the family has remained well so far.  I have to admit that I am fascinated by the spread of the flu this season.  My daughter’s teacher informed me that over 60% of the kids in her class were out with the flu last week!  But I am even more fascinated by the spread of the hysteria this year.

While I was sitting in the pharmacy waiting for a prescription of Tamiflu, I called my Mother-in-Law to give her an updated on her grandkid.  I also gave her some good natured ribbing on raising a son who was afraid of germs.  (That’s all I’ll say about that.)   As soon as I hung up, an older man also waiting for medicine fussed at me telling me that Swine flu was serious and people were dying from it.

I couldn’t get mad at him because I was the one rudely talking on my cell phone in a public place, but I calmly explained that yes I was very concerned about my daughter and the rest of the family but that he didn’t know my family.  Fortunately, the Holy Spirit intervened and kept me from saying too much more!  But that didn’t stop an entire conversation about the spread of flu, the difficulty in getting flu shots, schools closing because too many kids are sick, people dying from it and so on.  And most of the other people coming and going in the pharmacy took part in this conversation too.

It seems as if you can’t make it through a day without hearing about the flu.  It’s on the TV, internet, in the paper and on the lips of friends, family and strangers.  This has gotten me thinking.  What if we talked about the Good News as much as we talked about the Swine Flu?  Would we treat others differently?  Would we see things differently?  Would our world be transformed?

Too often we treat the Good News just like the flu.  We hide it and keep it to ourselves.  We isolate ourselves from the world, staying in a safe zone surrounded by people who think like we do.  Instead of seeking out opportunities to share it, we pretend that we don’t know it.  We are like Peter on the night of Jesus’ crucifixion—I swear I don’t know that man!   I know that I have been guilty of far too many missed opportunities.  I’ve been too busy to invest the time, too tired to care or just too scared of being ridiculed.

Sometimes we even try to protect ourselves from the Good News.  We limit our study of scripture to “feel good” verses and don’t grapple with the challenging text.  We are quick to assume that those who criticize us are wrong and we respond without asking God for His opinion first.  We pick and choose church events, attending the ones that won’t challenge us to change and grow.  Or if we do feel challenged, instead of exploring what the Holy Spirit is trying to say to us, we put up walls of defense.

I will readily admit that I am terrified of being too close to God.  I am scared of the things He might ask me to do.  I have often said that “God doesn’t call us to be comfortable” but it is so hard to truly live that out.  This morning in my Bible study I read Hebrews 6:7-8: “Land that drinks in the rain often falling on it and that produces a crop useful to those for whom it is farmed receives the blessing of God. ⁸But land that produces thorns and thistles is worthless and is in danger of being cursed.  In the end it will be burned.”  I have copied this scripture and stuck it on the refrigerator and I will pray every day that I am producing a crop, not thorns and thistles.

By all means, don’t leave your house if you have a fever, wash your hands often and cough into your sleeve.  But don’t treat the love of God the same way.  Those of us who have been touched by God have been given an awesome gift.  Why are we so afraid to share that gift with the world?

At my former choir in Richmond we had a phrase called “truck driving altos.”  This was reserved for those low, gravelly notes that one couldn’t believe came out of such lovely ladies.  A few weeks ago, I lived this term out by borrowing Bryon’s “Bubba truck” for the weekend.

Normally, I avoid driving his truck at all costs.  But I was going to see Mom and she had promised me free furniture.  I’ll do anything for free, so drive the truck it was.

Now, up until April of this year I had driven a standard transmission for my entire driving career.  My dream car when I was 15 was a Volkswagon Bug, and because I was spoiled rotten, my parents found, bought and restored that exact car.  (Well restored the outside anyway, but the Bug’s adventures will be saved for another blog.)  I still vividly remember Mom telling me on the way to pick it up that it had three pedals and my reaction of “huh?”  I also vividly remember the adventures of learning to operate a clutch.  At one time I actually jumped out of the car in the middle of busy Cedar Road and refused to drive it any further.  But after much practice and several gray hairs on Dad’s head, I think I mastered the art of “driving stick” quite well.  And even though Bubba truck shifts like a dump truck, I was proud that I could drive it without too much jumpiness.

On Friday morning I watched Bryon drive off in my nice, comfortable, luxurious by comparison Mom car all while I was grumbling about how much this weekend trip would cost me in gas money.  My wonderful husband ignored my grumbling and left me with a full tank of gas to get me started.  I packed up, threw luggage into the back of the truck and went to pick the kids up from school.

I drove from school to the bank—less than 10 miles—looked at the gas gauge and saw that it was down by a quarter of a tank.  A quarter of a tank!  I burned through a quarter of a tank in 10 miles!  This was going to be one looong trip.  Then a light bulb went off in my head.  I hadn’t shifted gears once.  In a span of five months, I had forgotten that one needed to shift gears, and Bubba truck’s engine is so loud anyway that I didn’t even notice it protesting.

How often do we live our lives stuck in one gear?  (Remember the Friend’s theme—“it’s like you’re always stuck in second gear?”)  The “noise” around us can be so loud sometimes that we don’t notice.  While we have every intention of cruising at top speed in fifth gear, we get bogged down in the immediate crises and forget to shift out of first.  I try so hard to spend time with God every day, but there are still days when I get caught up in what I think needs to be done and I forget about what is important.   I want so much to be living exactly as God intended and fulfilling His dreams for me, but I won’t get there in first gear.

Mary received some money for her birthday and decided to buy the “Tinkerbell” movie.  I was skeptical at first.  Some of the Disney sequels and prequels can be pretty cheesy.  But after having watched Tinkerbell about 25 times, I can safely recommend it.  The animation is beautiful, the writers stayed respectful to the original “Peter Pan” and there is enough adult humor to keep Moms and Dads entertained.

In the movie, we meet Tinkerbell for the first time and watch her develop.  She quickly befriends a group of “nature fairies” who are responsible for bringing Spring to the world.  There is a fairy who wakes up the sleeping animals, a fairy who plants seedlings, a fairy who paints the flower petals and so on.

Now, let me say that I know there are some Christian parents who will not expose their children to any type of fantasy literature or movies.  In our family, I think that a little bit of fantasy is fine as long as you follow it up with the truth. Although I will admit that when I was explaining that fairies weren’t real and Nathan asked “What about the tooth fairy?” I played dumb.  I wasn’t quite ready to destroy that piece of childhood magic.

Anyway, I did explain to our kids that it isn’t the fairies who bring the seasons to the world.  But that the change in seasons is magical.  There is no better time to see that then now as Fall is clearly on its way.  And I will argue with anyone that there is no better place to see it than here off the Blue Ridge Parkway.  It is not Nature Fairies or even “Mother Nature” who brings us the seasons; it is our Creator, God.  It is He who lines up the geese and points them to the South, it is He who puts the lilies to bed and it is He who paints the leaves red and gold.

I was a Biology major in college and I love science.  It gives me a sense of order and I am comforted to think that there is a system behind the changes in our world.  I realize that Fall happens because our half of the earth is titling away from the sun and the nights are getting colder and this is triggering the chlorophyll in leaves to diminish allowing other colors to appear.  But, I find it much harder to believe that this happens by chance than to believe that it happens by design.

About the tenth time I watched “Tinkerbell” I noticed that there is a swirl pattern repeated throughout the movie.  It is found on leaves, in the patterns of the sun and on the fairy wings.  To me, the handprint of God is all around us.  My challenge for you this week is to look for that handprint.  Whether you are racing to work on 501 or have time to sit and watch a sunset on the parkway (or whatever makes sense where you live) just keep your eyes open for the magic that surrounds us.  Then take a moment and just breathe “How Great Thou Art!”  And let me know what you found.

I have never been known for doing things the “normal” way.  But recently I quit my job—during a recession—with no plans to work.  Definitely not normal!  In fact, the representative at Anthem wished me well on my job search and was shocked when I told her I wasn’t looking.  I would have never imagined this either, but God had other plans.

The only way to describe how I’ve felt over the past 6 months is “restless.”  I knew there was something else out there for me, but I didn’t know what.  Like all working mothers, I felt guilty.  Guilty for missing T-ball games, guilty for missing bedtimes and guilty for day after day peeling kids out of my arms to leave for work.  On top of this was the feeling that I was robbing God.  When God called Bryon into the ministry, he called our whole family.  Like it or not, we have been set apart.  And I was trying to avoid it.

Changes at work made it a convenient time for me to reevaluate my priorities in life.  As I often do, I made a list of pros and cons (yes, I’m a geek).  I had to weigh options such as “How can I waste all that education I have?” with “If I’m at home I can be more involved with my kids’ education.”  Or “Will I ever work again?” with “I’ll have more time to support Bryon’s work.”  And “We won’t have money for a nice vacation.” with “I won’t miss another event in my children’s lives.”

I set my list aside and asked God in prayer for direction.  A few days later, I looked at my list again and it was crystal clear.  My con side was a list of worldly things—money, prestige, power and my pro side was a list of spiritual things—service, mission, mercy.  And then I understood what my next calling was.  Even though I was doing good work where I was, the work I was supposed to be doing  wasn’t there.  And our family was blessed with the ability for me to change directions.  God was telling me “You who are weary, come home.”

I haven’t figured it all out yet.  But I do know that my family is at peace.  And that I am ready for whatever else God has in store.