They were stranded at the gas station, keys locked in the cab of the moving van. An island in the midst of the come-and-go, an obstacle for some to shout at.
Two ladies? Not sure on that.
A couple? Not sure on that either.
No matter. Two humans in need.
Chill and Ann they said their names were. They had a girl about 6 years old with them, and they were moving to Phoenix from the snow-covered North. We tried to get creative and break into the cab using the materials at hand, but we were unsuccessful and no one seemed to have the tools we needed. Eventually a tow truck arrived with the necessary equipment and they were good to go.
“Sorry,” we said, “that we weren’t more help.”
Ann looked at me startled. “But you cared,” she said, “when no one else did.”
This is it, folks. This is what matters. Whatever your destination, whatever your errand, whatever your agenda, it’s the obstacles along the way that are your true purpose in life. Don’t miss them.
BtheLove.

He found a treasure and nothing could steal it away from him. He raced around the backyard, his Lab-and-Saint-Bernard-mix legs churning while his two human keepers shouted and dashed madly after him. But he was determined to hold onto his treasure. One of the humans enticed him with another treasure, a big stick. But he managed to cram that in his mouth as well and off he went again.

When he was finally cornered and had a leash put on, he refused to unlock his jaws and spit out his prize. But the humans outsmarted him by laying out a wonderful snack. In order to enjoy it, he would have to drop his prize. His growling stomach finally got the better of him and he released his treasure—a dead, dessicated rat.

What do I grasp, jaws clamped shut, legs churning, desperate to avoid giving up my perceived treasure? What do I clutch, while ignoring the foul smell wafting from my prize? What is it that holds me back from the kingdom of love I’m aspiring to live in today?
​
“For wherever your treasure is, you may be certain that your heart will be there too!” Luke 12:34.

We were walking by the ocean when a man approached us for help. He was holding a pigeon that he had caught because it had twine tangled around its feet. As he tried to free the bird, he realized he needed something to cut the thread and so he asked if one of us had a knife.

Soon this little nondescript bird found itself held firmly, its little feet stretched out, and a crowd of individuals brandishing knives and scissors surrounding it. We were all mesmerized as, with snips and tugs, the thread slowly fell away from the gnarled feet. The bird held very still, one wide eye surveying the crowd as we all cooed and chirped at it.
​
For a few brief moments until the bird was free of its entanglements and flew off into a new, upgraded future, a group of complete strangers from different countries cooperated to complete a mission of mercy for a no-name insignificant bird. Being the Love means we try to ease suffering wherever we find it.

Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father’s care. And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. So don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.

Do I hold still while God leans over me, cutting away the ties that confine me? Or do I struggle out of his gentle hands, hoping to do things my way?

I saw the devil this morning. Before you question my sanity, let me explain. I was having a rough morning. The Grumpies were in full force and I didn’t want them to hijack the rest of my day. I decided to go for a quick walk and sit for a few moments under my favorite pepper tree, tree bathing (yes, it’s a thing, look it up). It was a chance to calm down, talk to God, and let the beautiful morning seep into my soul. I would pull the aroma of bark and leaves into my nose, let the music of birds and insects tantalize my ears, and watch the squirrels play tag.

As I made the turn out of my cul-de-sac toward the tree grove, anticipation lightening my steps, I glanced to my left and saw the devil. To be fair, it was a human version of the devil. He was tall, dressed in black with a big mantle headdress flowing down his back, and wore a goat skull face mask complete with 6-inch horns. He was walking slowly, silently toward my tree grove.

I was instantly furious. How could he ruin my morning? The last thing I wanted to encounter when I was feeling down was the devil, especially on Halloween and especially when I was on my way to a rendezvous with God.

The metaphor wasn’t lost on me. That old cliché about kicking someone when they’re down comes straight from the devil’s playbook. But I had a choice. I could focus on the evil and the ugly and let my day spiral even further out of control, or I could hurry on to my appointment with God and let him set my feet on solid ground.

“Stay alert! Watch out for your great enemy, the devil. He prowls around like a roaring lion, looking for someone to devour. Stand firm against him, and be strong in your faith. Remember that your family of believers all over the world is going through the same kind of suffering you are” I Peter 5:8-9.

    It was going to be a culinary triumph! The recipe promised an easy-to-make, flavorful deep dish pizza baked in a casserole dish. The crust was constructed from “whomp biscuits” (so named because you take refrigerated biscuit dough in a cylindrical can and whomp it on the counter to get it to pop open.)
    Since I’m a gluten-free (gf) person, I searched for gf whomp biscuits with no luck. But then I remembered that I had a box of gf biscuit mix and the problem was solved. Excitedly, I mixed the gf dough and added plenty of luscious pizza toppings and a generous coating of cheese. I slid it into the oven where it soon released wonderful tummy-rumbling smells throughout the house. When I set my crowning glory on the stove to cool, the cheese bubble merrily along the edges, I was sure it was a winner.
    My husband grabbed a piece as I finished putting things away, but suddenly I heard him coughing and spitting. Surely the dish couldn’t be that bad!
     It WAS that bad.
Some parts of the crust were cooked and some were still soggy, so I quickly put it back in the oven for 10 more minutes. This time it would be just perfect.
      Alas, it was worse.
The gf mix was crumbly and dry as dust, choking up my throat and sticking to my teeth. I tried eating the scrumptious cheese and toppings off of the crust, but the powdery mass had inserted itself into the cheese and couldn’t be separated. After my own bout of coughing and water drinking, I sadly dumped the entire casserole in the trash. It looked incredible, it was a showpiece, but it was inedible.
     Adding more cheese won’t cover up an unpalatable mass of selfishness.
“You clean the outside of the cup, but inside it is full of greed and self-indulgence,” Matthew 23:25.
BtheLove.

My dog is a better mouser than my cats. She’s collected a number of notches on her belt for little critters who have invaded our space. But we draw the line at rabbits. Rabbits are our friends. I love to watch them silflaying on our lawn in the early morning (think Watership Down).

Yesterday, our dog was surveying her background kingdom when movement in our garden caught her attention. With a mad dash, she flew off the porch and dived between the plants. There was a scuffle and then as I ran after her I saw her snarling at something trapped in the corner between the brick wall and the gate.

I finally got our dog out of her Mighty Hunter mode and corralled in the house and went back to check on the creature. It was a rabbit that was still there in the corner, but it was strangely unharmed. As I got closer, I saw that in escaping the dog the rabbit had (intentionally or not) run straight inside a rat trap cage we had sitting in the back yard. The trap had snapped shut behind it, and although the dog was just on the other side of the wire, the rabbit was not hurt.

I quickly released the rabbit to silflay another day, but I wondered at the irony of it. Although the trap may have saved its life, the rabbit found itself a prisoner after the encounter with the dog. If I hadn’t seen what had happened, the rabbit could have languished in the trap for a long time.

As the rabbit skittered into the bush, I wondered if, when I try to escape my fears, I actually put myself into even worse bondage. There’s a lot that’s terrifying around us today, but some of the methods for fleeing the chaos or numbing the pain may be a worse trap than the original problem.
​
In these days of chaos and fear, make sure you choose your escape wisely.
“Bring my soul out of prison, so I may praise Your Name” (Psalm 142:8).
BtheLove.

He slithered past my calves and out the door and bolted across the porch, his little legs churning as fast as they would go. A cry escaped my lips as I rushed after him, my hands reaching—reaching for him and coming up empty. This is my scaredy cat, my cat who we suspect has eyesight problems and has never once in 1152 days of human-imposed quarantine attempted to go outside. But a combination of Covid-19 quarantine fever, summer heat, and that unknown cat quotient that causes male cats to yowl all night and tramp across your forehead in the early sleeping hours, forced him to make a mad prison break into the backyard.
 
I leaped after him and managed to grab his hindquarters, but he turned from solid form into cat liquid form and squished through my fingers. I chased him to the end of the garden where he made an abrupt U-turn. Fortunately, I had left the door open, so on his return trip, now at the top end of his adrenaline-fueled charge, he raced back into the house. I slammed the door with relief and collapsed in a heap.
 
Most of my life I’ve allowed my cats to roam inside/outside. But my environment is fraught with coyotes, dogs, HOA rule abiders, and bobcats—yes, bobcats! My tender, house-smart-only cat would be easy pickings.
 
Sometimes I, too, want to make a break for it—drive madly into the sunset, eat ice cream until I’m stuffed, host a big party, disappear into a Netflix binge for days. The temptation is real. But I realize my chancy moves would actually put, not only myself, but others at risk, people I love very much. So I stay put in my quarantined state and cautiously do the things that will protect my community.
​
But there is something I can do. I can channel my frustrations into something positive that will encourage and support people who are having a much worse time than I am. I could give you a list of the things I’ve done or thought of, but why don’t you make your own list? Without risking anyone’s health, how can you bring a little bubble of love, a spotlight of cheer, a ladle of sharing into someone’s day today?
You can do it!
BtheLove.

What flares in your mind when you see someone who is vastly different in:

• skin tone, culture, religion, ethnicity?
• wealth, race, sex, orientation, nationality?

What is your first response? Is it judgy, fearful, hesitant, arrogant?
What was Jesus’ first response when they threw a weeping adulteress in front of him?
What was Jesus’ first response when his boat landed on the “other side of the lake” and a homeless guy emerged from the cemetery swinging chains?
What was Jesus’ first response when a commanding officer of the Roman enemy occupiers confronted Jesus about healing his servant?
                           Empathy, not judgment. Kindness, not defensiveness.
                                             Consideration, not justification.
The common denominator here is compassion and a desire for healing relationships.
I wish I could say my knee-jerk reaction to uncomfortable, unknown people and situations is compassion. I wish I could say my natural spirit moves forward with arms extended instead of arms crossed. But even when my first response isn’t positive, I still have a not-so-secret, God-given weapon. I have the power of choice. Each day, each situation, I have the power to choose reaching out over retreat, to choose love over hate, and to choose a caress over an uppercut.

​For we have the choice to “have the mind of Christ” (I Cor 2:16).
BtheLove
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​      Ever have someone offer you a tic tac or a piece of Doublemint or a handful of peanut butter M & M’s at a moment when you’re bored or hungry or getting blue around the edges? You pop it in your mouth and suddenly there’s an explosion of taste. Your brain wakes up; a wave of tingly mint or cinnamon or chocolate flavor washes from molar to molar. Now you feel a little quirk of a smile and your afternoon begins to buzz.
     I suggest that you can offer the equivalent of a mouth-pleasing treat to someone (but with physically-distanced safety) by sending compliments their way. It’s ridiculously easy to bring a little joy bubble into someone’s day without costing yourself anything except the energy to be observant.
     Here’s an example. A friend of mine who is pushing 80 went to Walmart. Unfortunately, it was 104 and shoppers had to wait six feet apart in the sun to get their turn to enter. As she was waiting, a Walmart employee came down the line and told my friend that she didn’t have to wait but could enter the store immediately. Although happy for the reprieve from the heat, nevertheless my friend asked dryly, “Is that because I’m old?” “No.” answered the employee. “It’s because you’re pretty!” That got a happy chuckle and a story worth repeating.
      It’s easy to focus on what’s wrong.  They forgot the forks in the takeout bag.
      It’s easy to see the mistakes.  I asked for a grande non-fat hazelnut latte extra hot with only two pumps of syrup not three.
      It’s easy to be impatient.  I’ve been on hold 16 minutes.
Instead try: 
     ^ Thanks for making those burrito bowls so quickly.
     ^ You’re amazing at remembering these complex orders. You’re a pro!
     ^ You must be busy today. I appreciate you helping me with my question.
You have the power to make every interaction be like a minty micro burst on a slow day.
     “Kind words are like honey—sweet to the soul and healthy for the body” Proverbs 16.
Be the Love.

              It sprang at me from the kitchen drawer that held aluminum foil and plastic wrap. It was a grey whirling ball of fur and teeth with a long skinny tail. A scream that almost reached soprano boiled out of my throat, quite an accomplishment for a confirmed contralto. And then the creature was gone, disappearing under the fridge. After sliding the appliance out from the wall, we realized the rat had climbed to safety inside the back of the refrigerator.
               What do do? We didn’t know how to get the rat out of the fridge, but we knew how to get the fridge out of the house. So using a dolly and some brute strength my husband and I rolled the fridge onto the front porch and got an extension cord to keep it running.
               Once he got the back cover off the fridge, my husband and the rat engaged in a staring contest. She was wedged in tightly and refused to move, so he pulled out the vacuum and tried a little suction force to dislodge her. Eventually, she decided to abandon ship and made a dramatic exit, flinging herself off our porch to avoid capture. The end. Maybe. Will she or won’t she be back?
               None of us wants disease carrying vermin lodging in our house. But sometimes we let a few stray thoughts nest in the shadows of our minds when they should be unceremoniously carted outside. You know what thoughts I’m talking about; that sneaky negative attitude, or the big furry worry monster, or the jealous pest that nibbles on your sanity. Your thought attack animal is personalized just for you.
               You don’t have to live with this creature. Roll it outside. Reach for the vacuum. Make it feel unwelcome.
Choose to be positive. Choose giving and sharing. Choose faith, hope, and love.
Be the Love.