Having a heart as soft as a “Jesus cookie” or as hard as an ice-covered sidewalk

Posted on February 15, 2017 by sandra

Valentine’s Day has come and gone. The day we celebrate love and candy and flowers and candy and romantic dinners and candy and cards and chocolate. Has the day left you feeling glad or sad?

Like relationships, Valentine’s Day sometimes has its melancholy moments or full-on frustrations. Maybe like Charlie Brown, no one remembered you on Valentine’s Day. Or you accidentally gave a card that was too mushy to somebody with a bad case of cooties. Or your dog ate the beautifully frosted sugar cookie hearts you made for your special Valentine. Or you broke your shoulder delivering Valentine’s Day brownies to the boy you wanted to be your Valentine, only to find out he didn’t really like brownies.

A couple of those stories represent the ghost of Valentine’s Day present and Valentine’s Day past around the Engelland house.

Anna came home from college on Saturday to make some cookies for her beau. She found a delicious recipe for gluten-free “Jesus cookies.” My daughters call those really puffy, soft sugar cookies with lots of icing and sprinkles you find in the grocery store “Jesus cookies” because they seemed to get them during Sunday School A LOT. I’ve always been a chocolate girl, so I never bought those “Lofthouse” cookies until after my daughters developed a taste for them at church, hence the name. I hope Jesus doesn’t mind having cookies named for him. Anna absolutely adores them and was excited to try a GF version, since she can’t have gluten. Here’s the recipe she used.

Anna’s “Jesus cookies” were yummy gluten-free versions of the Lofthouse cookies that tempt you at the grocery store.

They turned out melt-in-your-mouth fluffy. Anna frosted them with canned buttercream she dyed pink and dusted them with red sprinkles. Her first batch she put in a container, but she left four large hearts and four small ones frosted and sitting on parchment paper on the kitchen table while we went to dinner. Bad idea.

When we returned, the little ones were there because they had been closer to the middle of the table. The big ones were gone. The only evidence of their existence was a few smears of pink frosting on the welcome mat by the back door. We have a cookie monster at our house named Elektra. But our pound puppy doesn’t limit her thieving to cookies. Ask me about the Thanksgiving pumpkin pie I left on the dining room table. The crust was there, but the inside had been licked clean.

Here’s our unrepentant cookie thief. I hosed down the mat in the driveway and scrubbed away the evidence while she watched.

Fortunately, Anna had some set aside for her boyfriend. Her friends, however, were out of luck.

I was reminded of a Valentine’s Day when I was in college at the University of Kansas. I made brownies in the basement kitchen of my scholarship hall during a winter storm. They were a special treat for a boy I wanted to impress (my now-husband Shawn) who lived in the hall across the street. I went out that night to deliver them and slipped on an icy sidewalk. I managed to keep the batch of brownies safe while I caught myself with one hand, but I chipped a bone in my shoulder and had my arm in a sling for a month. Adding insult to injury, Shawn gave a lukewarm reception to the brownies. After some prodding, I found out he’d rather have oatmeal or chocolate chip cookies.

All that is to say that the road to love is not paved with flowers and candy. Sometimes it’s hard, but we can’t let our hearts get hard. And we can’t let them go off in the wrong direction, like thinking a diamond bauble or a vacation home is better than perseverance and integrity.

The Bible has a lot to say about our hearts. For Northwood’s Ladies’ Bible Study, we’re using a book by Kelly Minter on Nehemiah. The subtitle of the lesson is “A heart that can break.”

Nehemiah’s heart was breaking for the destruction of Jerusalem, the holy city for the Jewish people. He left comfort in the Persian king’s court to lead the rebuilding of the city’s walls, despite ongoing opposition.

I was reminded of a passage in Ezekiel:

“I will give them an undivided heart and put a new spirit in them; I will remove from them their heart of stone and give them a heart of flesh.” – Ezekiel 11:19

God wants us to care deeply about the struggles of others. He wants us to reach out to widows and orphans, to prisoners and the poor, to the sick and the outcast. After tending to immediate needs, we can share the hope we have because of Jesus, the greatest gift of all.

We also studied a passage in Proverbs about guarding your heart because it determines the course of your life.

“Guard your heart above all else, for it determines the course of your life.” – Proverbs 4:23

That reminded me of another verse, “Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” – Matt. 6:21

For me, I need to avoid the traps of materialistic thinking. Stuff is so much less important than people. I need to value my relationships with God, my family, my friends and anyone I encounter.

Nehemiah said in Chapter 2, verse 12: “I did not tell anyone what God had put in my heart to do.” For a while, he prayed. Then he prayed some more and fasted. He talked the King and prayed again. He surveyed the walls and prayed before telling others in Jerusalem of his plans. Then they got busy building and the praying continued. Opposition came and so did more praying.

Get the picture? What has God put in your heart? Pray. Do some planning. Pray some more. Take steps forward, and don’t forget to pray. Expect the journey to be challenging. We can’t do God’s work without God’s help.

Left to my own devices, I sometimes get it backwards. I guard my heart against the pain around me and soften it to unhealthy junk or pursuits that have no impact on eternity. I’m asking the Lord to help me press in close to those in need and keep materialism and entertainment from becoming too important.

So that’s what I pray for you as we look back on Valentine’s Day: a heart that is soft to the leading of God and guarded to the influence of the world.

Love ’em or hate ’em, we’ve got goals

Posted on January 22, 2017 by sandra

It’s been more than eight weeks since my last blog post, so I’m cringing as I review my goals for 2016. One of my primary goals was to blog weekly. By that standard, epic fail.

But I don’t want to focus on failure, I’d rather look at progress.

In 2016, I published 22 posts. One of the reasons I stopped posting was because I’m preparing to launch a new blog. I’ve written four as yet unpublished posts for the new blog and spent MANY hours planning and learning how I can make my next blog better. That means I wrote 26 blog posts in 2016. How many did I post in 2015? Seven.

I’m going to say I halfway achieved my goal and made good progress.

Last January, I had a list of ten goals, and I only fully achieved two of them. One was to run a half marathon, which my daughter Rebekah and I did in May on a misty, bone-chilling morning from Gloucester to Rockport, Mass., and back.

A half marathon struck me as very long. I’d do it again. Maybe. A marathon? I can’t see that happening. I don’t like to punish myself that much.

The other one was to lose five pounds. Now I know most of you are probably going to hate me a little (or a lot) right now, but it was the first time in my life that I tried to lose weight. I’ve always been one of those disgusting people who could eat whatever they wanted without getting heavier. I used to come home in tears because I was a rail-thin kid who got teased and had a lot of nicknames (Bones, Spider, and this very creative one named after a popular kids’ game at the time: Pick Up Sticks). My revenge was as I progressed through my 20s and 30s, I didn’t have to watch my weight.

When I was pregnant with Rachel, I had a hard time putting on weight and my doctor told me to consume shakes and malts and multiple desserts. I gained less than 20 pounds total and Rachel weighed 8 pounds, 10 ounces. Once I gave birth, my abdomen would never be the same, but my weight didn’t change much.

Going home from the hospital with newborn baby Rachel. Talk about terror. You mean they’re really going to send us home with her?

Funny thing about getting older, your metabolism slows down, and it finally caught up with even good ol’ Pick Up Sticks. In my 40s it started to inch up, maybe just a pound a year. Nothing too concerning, but one day your favorite pair of jeans refuse to button.

I decided I would join hubby Shawn in a show of solidarity and diet with him in January. Shawn has succeeded multiple times in losing weight simply by counting calories. I downloaded the My Fitness Pal app on my phone and started tracking. After a month, I’d hit my goal of losing five pounds.

I did pretty well at maintaining my weight while I was training for the half marathon. Running 10 miles at a time will do that for you. But later in the year, the scale began a discouraging climb. From Halloween through New Years was just a whole lot of holiday indulging, which meant I gained back almost everything I lost.

Self-control is hard, y’all. That’s why I think it comes last on this list:

²²But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, ²³gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law. -Galatians 5:22-23

I’ve heard that the fruits of the Spirit build upon one another. Self-control without love, joy, peace and the rest can quickly turn into self-righteous legalism. In this life, we’re never going to achieve perfection in the fruits of the Spirit. But that doesn’t mean we stop working on it.

More important than the deliberate attention to physical health is the conscientious focus on spiritual health. If I’m not spending time seeking the Lord in reading the Bible, praying and looking for His hand at work around me so I can join Him, the fruits of the Spirit are going to be withering instead of thriving.

One of the most beautiful aspects of following Christ is that spiritual fitness doesn’t have to decline as you advance in years. At 51, I am not able to run as I did at 21 or 31 or 41. My body is wearing out. My knees ache on the trail and my hips complain when I sit cross-legged on the floor. Science and experience tell us we lose muscle mass, flexibility and skin tone as we age.

There are no such barriers to spiritual health. I can be more of a prayer warrior at 80 that I was at 40.

¹⁶Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. ¹⁷For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. – 2 Corinthians 4: 16-17

So I want to have a new goal this year of drawing closer to Jesus. What does that look like in practical terms? A good goal should be measurable.

One I’d like to accomplish this year is to read through the Bible. I’ve been involved in a lot of Bible studies in recent years, but it’s been a while since I’ve deliberately read the Good Book cover to cover. I’ve started by using a reading plan on biblegateway.com.

On New Year’s Day at Northwood Church, Pastor Bob Roberts challenged us to read through the Bible in 2017. He reads it every year and says he reads three chapters in the Old Testament and one in the New Testament. He mixes it up between the historical chapters in the OT and the wisdom literature (Psalms, Proverbs, Ecclesiastes and Song of Solomon) and alternates between the Gospels and the Epistles. He’ll read through Matthew, then go to Romans, then to Mark…you get the idea.

As far as other resolutions, from a spiritual standpoint, I decided to choose one word as my focus for 2017. My word is grace, both God’s unmerited favor and the Holy Spirit empowering me to do His will.

“But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.” – 2 Cor. 12:9

“Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have gained access by faith into this grace in which we now stand.” – Romans 5:1-2

What about you? Do you have a resolution or a word for the year?

Eight tips to be a better parent to your college kid

Posted on October 9, 2016 by sandra

Just a little more than a month ago, we packed up kid No. 3 to go to college. For the most part, she’s been loving the new challenges, activities and adventures. But there have been moments when she’s called, her words heavy with frustration or panic. I’m not gonna lie, there have been moments when my responses have been heavy with frustration or panic.

Let’s get real. Freshman year of college is HARD. It’s hard for the student, and it’s hard for the parents. I’m not perfect, y’all. I write this to remind myself, as much as to inform you.

Here are some tips to help your child (and you) get through this year and beyond.

1. Keep the lines of communication open.

yes, I sometimes use text speak. I’m not too proud to stoop to teen communication modes.

If I want to get a positive response out of my kid, I use click bait. This girl loves our hyper German shepherd-border collie and asked me to send her photos. Those always get a response, but don’t expect daily communication. Go ahead and send an encouraging text, but don’t worry if you get no response. Let your child know how often you expect a phone call or Facetime where you can hear the sarcasm in their voice instead of trying to detect it in their texts.
2. Visit campus and make it an event.
Last weekend was “Family Weekend” at Anna’s college. The day we moved her into her dorm, she talked about Family Weekend and how she wanted us to see her university and go to the game. Fast forward to the day it began, and our college girl had plans with friends during the first event (a barbecue dinner and pep rally). Imagine that, she’d rather go out with her new friends instead of spend time with her parents. We insisted that she meet us for the President’s Breakfast the next morning, and she did. We had a nice visit and then she took us on a personal tour of campus. In her defense, we’d seen her several times because she goes to school less than an hour from home. Shawn reminded me that these events are designed to make sure your kid is adjusting to college, and it was obvious she was adjusting.

Go Mean Green!

3. Send a care package.
Box up some of your kid’s favorite treats. If you’re motivated (or have all this new-found time to ponder their absence), get creative and look on Pinterest for ideas. If you don’t have a lot of time, many university groups advertise they will put together a care package and deliver it around special days like Halloween, Valentine’s Day and finals. Nothing says “I love you” like a package of gummy worms.
4. Don’t turn their room into your office, craft room or man cave right away.
You’ll freak them out, trust me. Your assimilation of their space should be gradual or delayed. Even with my Aggie grad, I keep a bed for her in what used to be her room when I turned it into my office. When she’s home, it’s her room. When she’s not, it’s my office.
5. Invest in yourself.
Because you will have more time, resist the urge to mope or fill up the empty spaces with Pinterest or binge watching “Downton Abbey.” Think moderation with social media and entertainment and capture some of those extra minutes to learn a new skill or rediscover an old hobby. Both of those endeavors will boost your mood more than mindless media. I recently taught myself to use a video-making app on my phone for work and made a fall wreath for the first time in over a decade.

Crafted with love, not perfection…

When I was trapped at home with three small children, I did a lot of crafting. Now I can flex those glue gun and paint brush muscles again. How does that help your child adjust to college? It’s kind of a stretch, but it shows kids that you’re never finished learning and growing. Just being happier with this season of life helps us grow into it. Which leads me to the next point…
6. Let go … but not all the way.
Realize your child will have lots of exciting and stressful events as they move towards independence. Don’t panic when they become anxious over a bad grade or want to change their major. Work on becoming more of a coach and less of a dictator. Your adult child will thank you.
On the balance side, I want to insert a warning to you moms and dads out there. MANY young adults struggle with depression, anxiety and other mental health challenges. According to the National Alliance on Mentall Illness (NAMI), 20 percent of teens will experience some kind of mental health condition; 75 percent of chronic mental illnesses show up by age 24. Suicide is the third leading cause of death for those age 10 to 24. I’m dwelling on this heartbreaking topic because we parents need to know that the potential is there, and we should seek professional help if we suspect our child is struggling with mental health.
7. Expect change and talk about expectations.
Your son or daughter will come home on breaks. You will be glad to see them come. When the break is over, you will be glad to see them go. They will try new fashions, new philosophies, new political points of view. Don’t let this rattle you. Keep calm and laugh on (in private, not in their faces). Most likely, they will push way past the old curfews. Let them know what you expect from them, even if it’s just a text at midnight saying they will be home later. They will forget about pitching in with chores and treat you like the hotel maid service. Ask them to do their fair share. Plan fun times for the family during breaks, but don’t over schedule because they love staying out late with friends and sleeping much of the day away. When they go back, plan fun times with whomever is left at home (or with other friends and family). Have a party without them. You have a life, too, and it’s good for them to know it!
8. Don’t tell your kid, “These are the best years of your life.”
Most of us who went to college have great memories of that time. But we don’t have to think too hard to remember the late night projects, the worries about grades and the anxiety over our future. College is fun and college is hard. Both concepts are true. In the same way, parenting is rewarding and parenting is the hardest job we’ll ever do. What do we do in this new frontier of parenting young adults? This mom prays a lot. I pray they will know God loves them, and they will want to follow Him and discover His amazing plan for their lives. I know God is watching out for them even when I can’t. As Christians, we believe the best is yet to come.

On procrastination, purpose and the miraculous healing of a printer

Posted on September 18, 2016 by sandra

A misty morning on our North Plum prairie in Central Kansas.

Friday was Sandra’s “Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day” and I wanted to run away to Australia.

I won’t give you all the gory details because even if I changed the names to protect the innocent, most of the trouble was caused by that person I see every day in the mirror.
A large percentage of the remaining problems resulted from brokenness. No, I don’t mean that feeling when you realize you can’t make it on your own and would someone up there send some help already (although there may be a bushel of truth in that).

I mean stuff was broken. Broken oven, leaking shower head, a tear in a favorite shirt. And technology rebelled and refused to do my bidding. I was coming up against a deadline to get some important papers signed. How dare my laptop and printer conspire to revolt after I’d put off the task for so long!

Ah! There’s the rub! I procrastinate in many areas of my life, but I can be responsible in others. I can exercise self-control when it comes to paying bills, running several times a week or completing work assignments. On the flip side, I often delay cleaning chores, writing blog posts like this one or tackling difficult projects with indeterminate deadlines.

Why do some jobs get done with minimal will power and others seem to take monumental effort?

My easy-to-complete tasks all have a quick consequence if they don’t get done. I HATE paying late fees, my hyper-energetic dog pesters me to play (or shreds my socks) if she doesn’t get exercise and if I’m not meeting my work commitments, I’m forced into uncomfortable conversations with my boss (who is very understanding when real problems pop up).

The “to-dos” that are “not-dones” are more under my control. If I don’t clean the shower as often as I should, it really just impacts me and my hubby. I drag my feet in posting to my blog because I worry I don’t have anything interesting to say. I avoid big projects with unclear paths.

If I dig a little deeper, I know I procrastinate sometimes out of fear of failure.

Cleaning and organizing do not come easily to me. And I’m often in my daydream world where it’s easy to ignore the clutter and the dirt until it begins to spill out of the closets and attract wildlife. After weeks of neglect, I can spend 48 minutes scrubbing my shower and it still doesn’t look perfect. So why bother? Those are the times I need to remind myself that housework done imperfectly is better than housework not done at all. Spending 24 minutes or 12 minutes or 6 minutes is better than 0 minutes. Clean and de-clutter anyway.

As for the blog, almost every time I write a post, I feel a twinge of anxiety when I hit the button marked “Publish.” Creating makes us vulnerable. What if no one reads this? Or they think it’s a waste of time? What if I run out of things to say? Then I need to remind myself that connecting with others through writing is part of my primary purpose. Why did God give me this dream for my writing? So others will be encouraged. There will be times when my posts are dull. I must wrestle worry and pin it to the mat in the process. Write anyway.

Doubts can paralyze me or prompt me to pray and persevere.

When facing any complex project, I can take a small step forward instead of putting it off. Most of us veteran procrastinators know that just getting started is the hardest part. I say to myself, “progress, not perfection.”

That brings me back to my foul mood the other night, when technology kept me from completing an important part of a big project. I checked the printer, Googled the error message, tried moving the documents to a memory stick and putting that into the printer port. Nothing. I went to bed grumbling about all the broken stuff and all the undone tasks and tried to fall asleep haunted by regrets and recriminations.

When I got up the next morning, I knew I needed to sit down with my Bible, prayer journal and coffee to build positive momentum for my day. Seated in the big leather chair with my KTEH San Jose public television mug, I glimpsed out of the corner of my eye a stack of paper in the printer tray. After I’d gone stomping up the stairs, the problem had inexplicably resolved itself. Yes, there were five more copies of one paper than I needed, but I rejoiced. I could get the signature I needed and move forward.

God was reminding me of his goodness in the midst of all the brokenness (yes, the spiritual kind). Life is hard more often than it is easy. I need to look to the Lord to help me overcome challenges, especially the ones I create for myself.

One of the passages I read Saturday morning was this one:

“By his divine power, God has given us everything we need for living a godly life. We have received all of this by coming to know him, the one who called us to himself by means of his marvelous glory and excellence.” – 2 Peter 1:3

Thank you, Lord, for reminding me that the presence of hardship does not mean the absence or your presence.

What will get your Olympic effort?

Posted on August 14, 2016 by sandra

My first memory of the Olympics was watching Soviet gymnast Olga Korbut, “the darling of Munich,” compete in 1972. I was 7 years old and captivated by her charm and athleticism. A neighbor down the street had a three-foot tall fence that became my balance beam. I’d scamper across it and pose, dreaming of adoring crowds and medals.

Olga Korbut, a star of the 1972 Munich games, cast an Olympic spell over 7-year-old me that continues to this day.

Having absolutely NO gymnastics skills, poor flexibility, sub-par coordination and a tall, lanky frame with minuscule upper body strength, my chances of becoming an Olympic gymnast were zero. But I never stopped marveling at what those small but mighty athletes could do.

Ever since 1972, I’ve been a fan of the Olympics. From Mary Lou Retton and Florence Griffith-Joyner to Simone Biles and Michael Phelps, I’ve watched in wonder at it all.

Michael Phelps has 28 medals, 23 of them gold! Inconceivable! He says Baltimore Ravens linebacker Ray Lewis, an outspoken Christian, and the book “Purpose Driven Life” saved his life after he was arrested for his second DUI.

This past week I’ve short-changed my sleep and dragged my way through some days with an Olympic hangover.

What does it take to be a successful Olympic athlete? I’d say innate talent, dedication and mental toughness.

No matter how hard I trained, I don’t think I would ever be a gymnast. God didn’t bless me with that kind of frame. The only sport I ever tried where I had some success was running. I briefly held the school record in the 880 (yards, people, because I’m old) at John Marshall Junior High, but it was broken a few years later.

I had enough dedication to run track and cross country in high school, but I didn’t have the drive to become great at it. I didn’t have that single-minded determination and will. That could have been a combination of lacking talent and mental toughness and it was absolutely an absence of sacrificial devotion.

That said, I still lace up my running shoes three days a week and pound pavement. I’m excruciatingly slow compared to the rail-thin, bouncy teen that used to win an occasional track medal in the Wichita City League. When I get a medal in a race now it’s usually because there weren’t that many 50 and older women running. You can outlast the competition in a whole different way!

I find that running brings me a kind of quiet joy. I dislike the treadmill because I’d rather be outside with my crazy running buddy. If I’m in a challenging season, a run will relax the tension in my shoulders or put a bit of the old bounce in my step. A walk can work wonders, too. Now that I’m an older runner, I don’t run daily. Even a short walk will boost my mood. For me, it’s the combination of movement and nature. I also sometimes do a 10-minute exercise video for strength training because I know I’m losing muscle mass and prone to osteoporosis because of my slender frame.

Yep, here she is again. My ever-eager running buddy. She's always good to go!

Yep, here she is again. Elektra, my ever-eager running buddy. She’s always good to go!

Whether you run or walk or cycle or golf, let those Olympic efforts remind you of the responsibility we all have to take care of our bodies. Most of us are not called to be Olympians, but all of us are called to certain roles, some of them only we can do. Managing our health helps us maintain the devotion and mental toughness to continue to do what God created us to do, from caring for kids or parents or spouses to learning at school, building businesses or serving others.

“Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you, whom you have from God, and that you are not your own? For you have been purchased at a price. Therefore, glorify God in your body.” – 1 Cor. 6:19-20

“Thus I do not run aimlessly; I do not fight as if I were shadowboxing. No, I drive my body and train it, for fear that, after having preached to others, I myself should be disqualified.” – 1 Cor. 9:26-27

Playing possum or playing “with” possum

Posted on July 31, 2016 by sandra

So it’s been more than a month since I posted on the old blog. I apologize to my five loyal fans (you know who you are!) who have been upset by my lack of consistency. Sometimes we’re busy having special times with family, other times we’re mired in a swamp of problems and every once in a while we let ourselves believe lies that knock us off track. All of these have been part of my last month.

Yesterday at our house here in suburban DFW we had our own version of Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom. A half-grown possum decided he wanted to stroll around our backyard, wander in and out of the doghouse and check out my garden. The ever-energetic Elektra barked and jumped at the window and wanted to go out to defend her territory from the invader, but daughter Rebekah and I didn’t want the two critters to engage.

This is not our Junior Possum, just one that looks like him. I didn’t take any photos because sometimes you’ve just got to stay in the moment.

Elektra loves to chase squirrels but has caught nary a one. This young possum would be an easy catch. We were concerned about it spreading disease, but an even bigger reason: it was really cute with its cotton candy pink nose. We didn’t want to see that kind of Wild Kingdom unfold in our backyard.

We waited for several minutes that seemed even longer, what with the wild rumpus going on in my breakfast nook at the big window overlooking the yard. The little critter finally made his way toward the hole in the fence, and I went out to check the area before we allowed Elektra to go out and do her olfactory forensic investigation.

After I went back inside and the curious canine sniffed around a bit, she alerted on something under the rosebush right by the hole in the fence. Rebekah knew we were in trouble. Sure enough, the dog turned around with the prize possum loosely held in her jaws. When she catches something, her first goal is play not kill. We pulled open the door and gave a sharp yell, causing the dog to drop her friend.

Kudos to Elektra for coming back in the house when we called, and we didn’t have to wrestle it away from her. Rebekah and I went out to check on it. The possum laid on its side, little pink claws in the air, motionless. You know, playing possum. But there was no blood or teeth marks, the little chest was moving up and down, so we went back inside to watch.

After a minute or two it began to move, getting back on its feet and walking back into the garden. Then it just stopped and looked around.

Meanwhile, the dog is once again going bonkers. Since the possum was in no hurry to go anywhere, Rebekah and I decided to encourage it to leave. I put Elektra on a leash and the three of us went out to let it know it wasn’t welcome. I kept the dog out of range. She seemed to know that the leash meant she couldn’t go play with it.

The little possum just crouched next to my faded zinnias pretending we weren’t there. Rebekah went and got a stick to herd it towards the gap under the fence. When she gently tapped it, the creature did a slow-mo fall to its side, claws up. We were all on one side of it and freedom was on the other and Junior Possum’s response was to pretend rigor mortis had set in. You don’t want any of this folks, I’m long dead.

“Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom” was Must See TV for kids in the 1970s!

We decided to conduct our own wildlife relocation program. Rebekah got the shovel and I got the broom. While I held the dog away from the action and played “Marlin Perkins” giving out words of encouragement, Rebekah was the brave “Jim” gently sweeping the animal onto the shovel. She then walked outside of our fence to a cluster of mesquite trees next to the pond behind our house and carefully slid him into a shady spot in the grass. He never moved, except for the telltale rhythm of his tiny chest. Then we shut the gate, loosed the hound and let her gather more olfactory evidence.

I told Rebekah I thought “playing dead” had to be one of the lamest self-defense measures ever. Later I was reminded that sometimes we may pretend to be dead to bad habits or the hurtful words of others or our own negative self-talk, but we didn’t really remove ourselves from the situation. The dangerous destruction is right there, and our response is to pretend it can’t hurt us. A better defense mechanism is to get away and/or have a much stronger protector.

Sometimes God calls us to leave a dangerous habit or situation behind. Other times, he may want us to look to him for protection and help when we must stand our ground. In either case, we’re not alone.

“So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” – Isaiah 41:10

Elektra doesn’t want to play possum. She wants to play WITH possum. Behind her are the trees where we relocated her “friend.”

Goals, terry cloth robes and grace. Lots of grace.

Posted on June 26, 2016 by sandra

Here we are almost at the end of June. That means we are half way through 2016. Yes. Really. I know it takes us all a few months just getting used to writing 2016 before it sinks in. I decided it would be a good chance for me to review all those goals I set in early January.

It ends up that I’ve fallen short on many of them. No, my bedroom is not totally decluttered and remodeled. I haven’t memorized a bunch of Bible Verses. I didn’t blog weekly.

But you know what? That’s okay. When I take a step back and look around me, I see some progress. It may be a mole hill instead of mountain, but I’ve gained ground.

One goal we met was taking a family spring break tour of the Great Southwest. It was all truly great except for a few hours in western New Mexico on the way home when we almost strangled each other.

One goal we met was taking a family spring break tour of the Great Southwest. It was all truly great except for a few hours in a traffic jam on I-40 in New Mexico when we almost strangled each other.

Anyone who knows me well knows I struggle with outer organization. I’m one of those daydreaming creative folks who can ignore the basket of unsorted socks by my bed for weeks (or months) and forget where I put the notice to renew the registration for my daughter’s car until it’s way overdue, hypothetically speaking (not).

I may not have decluttered my whole bedroom, but I did go through almost all my clothing and get rid of what didn’t “spark joy.” One of the books I’ve read so far this year is “The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up” by Marie Kondo. Actually, I listened to the audio book, which I found on YouTube, while I went through my closet and drawers.

Kondo, a professional organizer from Japan, has something of a cult following with her “Konmari method,” which is to get rid of anything that doesn’t spark joy. She has some useful tips, but she’s kind of weird. She likes to talk to her stuff. If she is getting rid of it, she holds it and thanks it for what it’s done for her.

I feel a little silly thanking my old cherry red terry cloth robe for it’s many years of faithful service, but I never looked at it the same after hearing Jim Gaffigan’s take on them.

I haven’t blogged every week. Sigh. I’m disappointed in my lack of resolve. But I haven’t completely given up. I count up my posts. This is No. 14 for 2016. For the entire year of 2015 I had 7. If I keep on this pace, I will quadruple my output from last year.

I need to get out of the old mentality of abandoning goals because I only hit a single instead of a home run. It’s about progress, not perfection.

Another goal I set was to memorize 24 Bible verses for the year. I’ve only done two, and that’s being generous because I’m still sneaking peaks at the 3×5 card taped to my bathroom mirror. But God is still speaking powerfully through His Word. Just this last week several verses hit me up side the head.

This one seems especially appropriate:

^“But thank God! He gives us victory over sin and death through our Lord Jesus Christ. So, my dear brothers and sisters, be strong and immovable. Always work enthusiastically for the Lord, for you know that nothing you do for the Lord is ever useless.”– 1 Cor. 15: 57-58

Let’s give some grace to ourselves and keep moving onward in faith.

How you can grow into your purpose

Posted on April 17, 2016 by sandra

Forsythia in bloom at The Rock Shop in Orderville, Utah, one of many rock shops in the town of 572 folks. We didn’t stop and smell the roses on our recent spring break. We stopped for the rocks.

Hope deferred makes the heart sick,
but a dream fulfilled is a tree of life.
– Proverbs 13:12 (NLT)

News flash: I get frustrated with myself and my lack of progress on multiple fronts. Over and over and over and over… You get the picture.

– I want to keep to my resolution to blog weekly, but I’m not meeting that goal.
– I want to do a better job getting rid of clutter and cleaning my home, but the piles of doodads and dust bunnies continue to grow.
– I want to tackle the 87 home improvement projects that should be done, but there don’t seem to be enough hours or energy to do them.

I could add many more, but it makes me tired just thinking about all those unaccomplished tasks.

I have these two voices that creep into my brain. I’ll call them Martha and Stanley.

Martha had a plethora of pin-worthy ideas long before Pinterest. I’m not Martha, and “it’s a good thing.”

The Martha voice is like Martha Stewart. She wants elaborate dinner parties, a garden bursting with flowers to array in vases and tomatoes to can in jars and a home with lovely decor and floors clean enough to not worry about the five second rule (I remember reading where Martha said the only way to clean floors is on your hands and knees. She knew her daughter had truly taken her words to heart when she found the young woman on her hands and knees cleaning the garage floor. FOR REAL. THE GARAGE FLOOR). That’s the voice of the domestic diva, the homemaking ninja, the paragon of Pinterest, roles to which I aspire in my more delusional moments.

Here’s Stanley, pencil and puzzle book in hand, unashamedly avoiding the work of the day.

Then there’s Stanley, as in Stanley Hudson from the TV show “The Office.” Stanley wanted to sit in the corner and do his crossword puzzles and have everyone leave him alone. He wanted to get by doing as little work as humanly possible. Sometimes that’s me. I look around and see the dishes that are piled in the sink AGAIN, the blog post on my “to do” list (real or only in my head) that didn’t get written AGAIN, the cluttered room that there’s no point in decorating when it’s such a mess AGAIN and I want to find a crossword or an episode of “The Office” and bury myself in it.

Y’all, both of these voices need to be evicted from our heads. These are really two sides of the same coin: perfectionism in what I want and disappointment when I can’t meet those goals. When we get caught up in perfectionism, we lose the joy of appreciating the world in all of its imperfect glory. We are MESSED UP and God loves us anyway. That’s grace. But this doesn’t mean that we give up on the work God’s given us to do. We keep moving forward in spite of our struggles. That’s faith. Although taking a break from work and chores is healthy, allowing discouragement to keep us from making progress is not.

I’m learning that I should not be focused on perfection or how miserably I fail. My focus should be on loving God and showing his love to others. Even though I am a daydreamer creative type lacking in organizational skills and focus, I can take steps in the right direction.

Ten minutes spent dusting in an imperfect manner is better than no dusting at all. Doing one small part of a big project (like spraying Roundup on the weeds and grass that have overtaken my garden) beats the frustration that I don’t have the time to tackle the whole thing or guilt over allowing it to languish and deteriorate. Writing and posting on my blog even when I lack the fire of inspiration is better than giving in to discouragement.

Doing imperfect things is better for my psyche than waiting for the perfect time or situation.

We don’t always get to choose how well a project turns out and we certainly don’t get to choose how others receive our efforts, but we can choose to move forward. My faith on its own shrivels up. It grows when I choose to do something that God has called me to do. We’re always going to have interruptions, usually people, who want us to do something else. We need to ask the Lord for wisdom in knowing if we ought to pause and oblige or stay the course. Sometimes God calls us to rest, too, and that’s an important part of faith.

This is a cedar waxwing in the ornamental pear tree outside my office window. I love that little berry-eating bandit!

²⁵“That is why I tell you not to worry about everyday life—whether you have enough food and drink, or enough clothes to wear. Isn’t life more than food, and your body more than clothing? ²⁶Look at the birds. They don’t plant or harvest or store food in barns, for your heavenly Father feeds them. And aren’t you far more valuable to him than they are? ²⁷Can all your worries add a single moment to your life?” – Matthew 6: 25-27 (NLT)

Really what we’re doing here is learning to listen and follow, rest and rejoice. Rinse and repeat. Here’s how we keep hope alive: not by being perfect nor giving in to discouragement but by trusting and obeying.

Will you join me in tackling the messy, imperfect life around us knowing that God is in control? Don’t listen to Martha or Stanley and enjoy the unique place God has positioned you. Achieving your God-given purpose is sharing his love using your gifts, your talents and your place right now.

Why we need to walk in the light

Posted on April 2, 2016 by sandra

Morning came early today, too early.

What used to be a rare occurrence now happens all too often. I wake up in the middle of the night and have to visit the facilities or my inner furnace kicks into overdrive (infernal inferno, anyway). Once the critical state passes, my mind refuses to drift back to dreamland.

I now understand why “Momo,” my much-loved, Texas-tough belle of a grandmother, used to spend the wee hours of the night seated at her kitchen table with a deck of cards playing solitaire.

In my teen years, she played the game on her Apple II. As an early adopter of personal computing, she used hers for three primary tasks: accounting spreadsheets (she was a savvy businesswoman), writing letters to far-flung family (Uncle Clifford’s got the gout again), and playing card games. Momo was something of a card shark – Bridge, Hearts, Canasta, she’d win ’em all – although she was known to throw a game of Go Fish to her grandkids. The computer didn’t stand a chance.

I digress…

Back to this morning. After awaking at 12:55 and again at 4:13 and killing time by reading on my phone (my hand-held computer), I rolled out of bed at 6:19. Since daylight savings started a few weeks ago, that hour is still quite dark.

I made a cup of hazelnut cream coffee in my beloved Keurig and pulled my Bible, study book and journal off the shelf. I was so tired that I longed to go back to bed, but that wasn’t going to happen. The bright fluorescent kitchen light hurt my eyes, so off it went. I settled in with my Bible study and tried to focus by the 60 watt lamp next to the couch. With my aging eyes, I could either turn on more light or pull off the glasses.

Side note for all you youngsters who don’t need reading glasses yet. Near-sighted older folks have an advantage over those with better vision. If you pull off your regular glasses, you can read the tiny Bible print even in dim light. When I’ve got myself more pulled together later in the morning, I’ve put in my contacts and need reading glasses for fine print. Oh, cruel vanity!

Anyway…There I was relishing the shadows while bringing my Bible near my glasses-less nose. For Northwood Ladies’ Bible Study, we’re in 1 John with Kelly Minter’s study “What Love Is.”

“If we say that we have fellowship with him while we are walking in darkness, we lie and do not do what is true, but if we walk in the light as he himself is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us from all sin.” – 1 John 1:6-7

I realized that my tired, discouraged self was craving the darkness, not so I could commit a bunch of dastardly deeds but to avoid dealing with my messes. You can’t see the dog hair tufts on the carpet or the cobwebs clinging from the ceiling when the light is dim.

Now, yes, I need to clean house literally, but I’m going for the metaphor here. I need God’s light to show me where I can clean up my attitude and get rid of harmful habits that are the dirt and clutter of my inner world.

In our study, Kelly Minter had us look at 1 John 1:9, “If we confess our sins, he who is faithful and just will forgive us our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” She asked us to confess any bitterness, jealousy, strife or “any areas the Lord shows you.”

I thought, “I don’t have harsh feelings toward others right now, so I’m good.” Then I felt that Holy Spirit pang. “Wait a second, Sandra, you are often quick to forgive and ask forgiveness of others, but you hold on to anger over your own failings.”

God was getting up in my business again. I believe he was prompting me to turn on the light and see that he is bigger than any of my failings and move on. Focus on blessing others rather than wallowing in self-pity.

A few weeks ago, our family took a Spring Break trip to the Great Southwest. We spent our first night in the aptly named View Hotel in Monument Valley. All the rooms have balconies on the east side, so you could get a glorious view of the sunrise. Shawn and I were in one room and the girls were next door.

The two of us bounced out of bed (unexpected bonus: getting older makes it easier to wake up) to watch the sky turn from navy to violet to rose and fiery gold behind three terra cotta towers (East Mitten, West Mitten and one I can’t remember). The sky put on an awe-inspiring show, but my phone camera didn’t capture the beauty very well. The iconic buttes looked like black blocks because they were backlit, meaning the source of light was behind the subject.

When I turned the opposite direction and snapped a photo of Shawn lit by the first rays of the sun, the colors of the nearby mesa (not to mention the handsomeness of my man) were on full display.

This photo was snapped seconds after the previous one.

It only occurs to me now, after reading these verses from 1 John, that anything we put ahead of God is going to turn dark. The way we get the best picture is by shining the Lord’s light on the subject. Light comes from God; “God is light and in him there is no darkness at all.” – 1 John 1:5. And it is found in his Word: “Your word is a lamp for my feet and a light on my path.” – Psalm119:105.

How to find your purpose in the midst of trials

Posted on February 14, 2016 by sandra

I recently interviewed a local woman who helps the homeless. She began her ministry because her ex-husband suffered from severe mental illness and chose to live on the streets. She and her son began collecting blankets to distribute in the winter to the Fort Worth homeless (You can read about her here).

She told me, “You find your passion through your pain.”

There’s really no getting around it. Adversity is the training ground for growing our faith and finding our purpose. Nothing will soften the stiffness of pride like humiliation. Heart-breaking circumstances fuel not just our passion, but our compassion. The pain of loss allows us to more fully treasure those we love.

When my third child came into the world, I thought I was a pretty good mom. I had two bright little girls who did what I asked them (most of the time). They put away their toys, patiently sat in the cart or walked next to me in Kroger and enjoyed bath time, playing with bubbles and relaxing when I would wash their hair.

Then No. 3 came along and rocked our world. A few of her cousins actually thought “No” was part of her name.

If you asked her to clean up her toys, she might dump out a bin of Legos, crawl onto the dining room table and attempt to hang from the chandelier. When we went to the store, she would try to stand up in the cart and scream to get candy or a toy (even though I NEVER gave in to the tantrum, EVER). I became THAT MOM, with the screeching toddler you could hear from the other side of Target. Bath time was a battle. She hated to have her hair washed and refused to keep her head tipped back and still, inevitably getting shampoo in her eyes. She even had to go to the ER once and get skin glue for a gash above her eye from a bathtub slip.

Here’s my curly-haired tot at almost 17 months. She’ll mess with Texas if she wants to.

Once when her big sister read a sign aloud that said, “Don’t mess with Texas,” she said, “I’ll mess with Texas if I want to.” She was 3.

Needless to say, my concept of my prowess as a parent took quite the hit. But really, it was just her personality. Sometimes you get a strong-willed child instead of one who loves to please you. Hubby and I had to correct her way more often than her two sisters (added together and multiplied). As she got older, we learned more what worked and what didn’t. She, too, gained some self-control (thank the good Lord).

Now, she is a smart, responsible, compassionate young woman of 17. She has high ideals and sticks to them with steely eyed determination. Her perseverance is a force to behold. When it comes to what she wants, this girl DOES NOT QUIT.

God knew just what He was doing when He created her. It was just very challenging and humbling to parent her.

All that points to the fact that I would not have nearly the empathy for other parents who struggle if I’d never had her. She’s also had some health challenges. Again, another opportunity to grow in how I love others and the way I can identify with their pain.

Being at the end of your rope forces you to look up. You devour God’s Word to find hope. Prayer becomes a life-line that gets you through the day. That’s what trials do. They force us to depend on God.

Here’s a promise to hold in your heart during a tough time:

³Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, ⁴and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, ⁵and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us. – Romans 5:3-5

and a reminder:

We were under great pressure, far beyond our ability to endure, so that we despaired of life itself. ⁹Indeed, we felt we had received the sentence of death. But this happened that we might not rely on ourselves but on God, who raises the dead. – 2 Cor. 1 8b-9

We experience God’s supernatural joy when we turn to Him in times of trial. We feel our dire need and go to His word and lift up heart cry prayers. Trials prune away the excess baggage and show us what truly matters: loving God and loving others.

We don’t mature in our faith by problem-free lives (as if there were such a thing anyway). We focus on eternal treasures when we realize our need for a Savior and Redeemer.

How can we flourish in a time of struggle?

Immerse yourself in God’s Word. Go there first for messages of hope.
Be like David. Tell God your troubles. He’s big. He can take it.
Spend time with those who love and encourage you.
Seek to bless others. When I help someone else, my pain has a purpose.
Look for reasons to be thankful. Gratitude makes us ripe for joy.

This isn’t just a message from over a decade ago. God is using difficulties in my life today to fire my passion and guide my direction.

How have you grown through a challenging season?

This is the sixth post I’ve written in 2016! Yay!!!

Sandra Engelland

Cultivating peace

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