Category: Soul (Blessings, Miracles, Prayer, Spiritual Growth)

Hearts Desire

On the airplane from NC to LA, in the row in front of me, was a family of six. The boys, who looked to be perhaps 13ish and 17ish, sat with their father on the left side of the aisle . The girls, whose age I could not tell because they were directly in front of me, sat with their mom. The father and mother sat across the aisle from one another. I could see the father best, because he was diagonally in front of me; a tall, thin man with gray hair, cut short in the back but a little longer on top. Black framed glasses covered his steel blue eyes. When he smiled, deep creases emanated from the corners of his eyes, revealing years of character. A day or so worth of stubble adorned his face and chin. The oldest boy had long, blonde hair, as did the younger boy, though his was hidden under a beanie. From what I could see, mama had very long sandy-blonde hair as well as the girls.

A few times during the five hour flight, the man stood up, probably to stretch. During one of those times, he leaned over and kissed his wife a long, drawn out kiss. I smiled to my inner self and though, “oh, I guess he likes her”. She responded by reaching up and running her hand across his chest and down, across his belt. For a brief moment, I got scared as her hands continued down his thighs and dropped in her lap. “Goodness,” I thought. “I guess they both like each other.” (Please! Not in front of the children! or the passengers!

This couple was probably in their mid to late 50’s, and the family resemblance of the kids with them told me they were one family, not a blended one. Mom and dad periodically reached across the aisle to touch one another and hold each other’s hand. Sweet. I thought how nice it was that, after years of raising a family, they were still so obviously crazy about each other.

About 3 hours into our flight, the husband reached into his backpack, pulled out an NIV study Bible and began reading in Romans. (Not that I was creepin)

Nothing warms my heart more than seeing a man who loves God also love his wife, ashamed of neither, and not afraid of anyone’s judgement. I believe this is the way God intended relationships to be. What a wonderful example this couple set for their children, to love one another wholly and completely while honoring God. This is truly my hearts desire.

May they always love God and each other as He intended. May their children find the same.

Be blessed today, my friends.

SB

Weary traveler?… or something more sinister?

As I mentioned in yesterday’post Post 9-11 every time I travel by air, I think about the first few time I flew after 9-11.  Yesterday’s post was a bit more serious, but looking back at this one, it has a bit more levity.  It, too, occurred within a few months of the most devastating event in US History occurred, and the fear was quite fresh on everyone’s minds. Airport security was a whole new ball game.  Frequent announcements were made in airport terminals about identifying unattended bags, and passengers were terrified that they may contain bombs or other explosive devices.

I sat in the terminal waiting to board a flight to Tampa, Florida, casually observing the other people in the terminal around me.  A family with young children to my left, a few business travelers across from them, and the disheveled foreign man sitting directly across from me.  He was wearing a black, rumpled up raincoat, khaki pants and a wrinkled dress shirt.  His hair was a mess and he looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks.  Kind of like a foreign Columbo.

His briefcase?  A small, silver, stainless steel case that seemed right out of a James Bond movie.  I tried not to make eye contact with him. No one else around me seemed to notice him.

We sat there awkwardly for a while and then he asked me, with a thick accent, if I had change for a dollar – he needed to make a phone call.  I did.   I remember that, as handed him four quarters and took his dollar, I placed it in my left, front pocket, in case the authorities needed to dust it for fingerprints.   I’m sure it was an unfair judgement, but in the wake of 9-11, I thought he seemed a bit off. I thought to myself that it was strange he didn’t have a cell phone – even I had a cell phone at that time.  But whatever, I gave him the change I had.    And then…   it happened. He asked me if I would watch his James Bond briefcase while he made a phone call.     Really?   At a time when everyone was walking on pins and needles, waiting for the next terrorist attack?  At a time when the airport speakers perpetuated reminders about notifying authorities about luggage left unattended.  He asked me to watch the briefcase that surely contained a bomb?

A million thoughts went through my head in a split second… did I want to be the one who shut the entire airport down only to find his briefcase contained notebooks used for his work and other incidentals any traveler would have?  or did I want to be the one who didn’t raise a flag when I could have, who became one of several hundred victims as the plan he commandeered plummeted into the land below? A weighty decision, for sure.  I had seen news reports about planes and airport terminals that had been shut down due to citizen panic from well-meaning people. In the end, I decided I didn’t want to raise a flag. After all, he was probably just a weary traveler, right? And I avoided the scandalous news story that could have embarrassing consequences.

When we arrived safely in Tampa that evening, I felt like kissing the ground.  The weary traveler deplaned with the rest of us, and continued to wherever his journey took him, presumably without incident.

Was I unfair?  What would you have done?

Curious to hear your responses…

SB

 

Anyone with similar experiences?

Post 9-11

Every time I travel by air, I think about the first few time I flew after 9-11. 

The first time I flew after 9-11 was in November of the same year.  I was headed to Dallas, TX for a business trip, and my flight took off early in the morning.  While in flight, Flight 587 took off out of New York bound for the Dominican Republic, and crashed in Queens, NY, killing all 260 passengers.  Although it was subsequently determined to be an accident, when it first went down, the people of New York and even the rest of the country weren’t so sure.  Being in flight already, I was incommunicado with any of my loved ones, and none of the passengers on the plane had any idea what had happened.  It made for a nervous couple of hours for my family, until I landed in Dallas.  Immediately upon arrival to the gate, cell phones all around were beeping like crazy, with calls from loved ones breaking the news to us, hoping to find we were ok.

crash

It was an eerie feeling that morning, in the wake of 9-11.   So tragic, the loss of lives. It was eerily quiet as we deplaned that morning.  I believe everyone had similar thoughts – to be thankful to be on the ground, yet tragically mourning the crash, wondering if there were more to come. As we would find out, there were no further incidents that morning, and I continued my business trip as usual. But, to be sure, people traveling that day had a sense of awe about them, not on regarding air travel, but the world itself.

It’s hard to believe it’s been eighteen years since those events.  Air travel has changed drastically, and yet, somehow, we’ve all adjusted to our “new norm”.  We’ve picked up the pieces and moved on… because we really had no other choice.

 

 

 

Traveling Alone?

In anticipation of my upcoming trip, a friend asked me if I was nervous about it. No, not at all. To be perfectly honest, I absolutely LOVE traveling all by myself.  In fact, I find that I am most comfortable when I am absolutely alone in sea of thousands of people, whether it’s in a crowded airport, busy city, or in line for a slide at a water park.  I find myself watching people, wondering what their story is… because EVERYONE has a story.  From the pre-teen with long, straight, blonde hair and a beanie cap traveling with his family, to the young couple juggling their twin toddlers, exasperated, to the straight-laced business traveler, annoyed by the girl next him who is cracking her gum, everyone has a destination, and has left something behind to get there.

I rarely speak to people in airports or planes, certainly not those seated near me. When traveling, I retreat into myself, my favorite place to be…as frightening as it is sometimes.

My mind races with ideas and thoughts about an omniscient God who sees all of it at once, and is intimately interested in EVERY one of them.  I sometimes find it hard to keep track of just the things I need to do, let alone my children, and I only have 3. Yet the God of the universe knows every intimate detail of every one of His children at all times.  Amazing.

Hebrews 4:13

“And there is no creature hidden from His sight, but all things are open and laid bare to the eyes of Him with whom we have to do”

omniscient

Stay blessed, my friends.

SB

 

 

Get back up

This morning, I was up at 3 AM to get ready for a 7 AM flight, ultimately to Los Angeles.   The circumstances of the trip aren’t great, and it is with very mixed emotions that I travel.  The company I work for is closing one of its service centers, and I am flying out to bid farewell to the team who has worked tirelessly for years to repair our products and keep our customers happy.  Though they’ve had about six months to adjust to the news, it will still be difficult.

Typically, I am a big fan of change.   I do it often, from hairstyle, to furniture placement, to new and improved ways of doing things, both in my personal and my professional life.  The older I get, however, the more I can relate to people who find change difficult.  There are certain patterns we fall into, certain comforts we’ve become accustomed to, and when our world is rocked, sometimes it’s difficult to pick up the pieces and move on.   Be it the death of a spouse or loved one, the breakup of a marriage, the loss of a job, there are times in our lives and the lives of those around us where unwelcomed change rocks our world.

One thing I learned through the death of my father, although I was too young to realize I was learning a lesson at the time, is that there really is no other choice but to pick up the pieces and move on.  I spent about 10 years of my young life being a victim of my circumstances, not knowing how to recover.  At some point, however, in my late teens / early twenties, I got my sea legs and realized that I could either keep shriveling in insecurity caused by changes in my life, or reinvent myself, having developed strength and character from surviving my loss.  My friends, I know first hand that re-inventing yourself IS possible, so long as you don’t cave to the insecurities you feel initially. Sure, take the time you need to lick your wounds and self-reflect, but don’t stay there too long!  Pick up the broken shards of glass around you, dust yourself off, and find a new focus to give you purpose in the process of healing.

You CAN do it.  I know you can.   Change is inevitable.  Keep fighting and don’t give up.

Roll with the changes, my friend. It will make you a better you.

Be blessed, today, my friends!

Love you all!

SB

Copyright 2019 Journey For Life.  All rights reserved.

What comes around

When I was three-four years old, I constantly tinkered around the antique upright piano in our home. My grandmother had a friend, Mrs. Stonebraker, who taught piano lessons but she said I was too young for lessons. Because of her friendship with my grandmother, she reluctantly agreed to a trial basis. As it turns out, I had some natural ability, and thus began my musical journey.

I remember lessons at her house, which was not far from my grandparents’ home. She was sweet but stern. One day, I skipped a difficult passage of bass clef and she asked me why I didn’t play it. I told her my dad said I didn’t have to. Both she and my mother quickly decided that i DID, and she helped me learn it.

I studied with her for several years before finding a teacher closer to our home. As a very young child, I don’t think I really knew much about the Stonebraker family, and quickly adapted to my new teacher, with whom I studied for about the next ten years, before studying with Professor Rummo at Duquesne University.

Fast forward thirty some years, to the church I now serve in a town east of Pittsburgh. One of our congregants names is Stonebraker. From the first time I heard it years ago, I wondered if there was a connection, but never asked. Last fall, though, She posted some small furniture on the Facebook market place, which I bought for my daughter’s house at college. When I met her for the purchase, I asked. Turns out her husband is my piano teachers’ son! Not only that, but his sister also attends our church!

During our discussion I learned so much more about her! Ruby was an accomplished musician, composer and pianist with extensive study in New York City and Carnegie Music Hall. She gave her life to Christian music through education and her church. Her husband was a Wesleyan minister who founded the International Student Fellowship with the University of Pittsburgh. His funeral, in 2012, was held at our church, though I did not play for it. Ruby had already passed in 2003.

On Sunday, a woman introduced herself to me as Mrs Stonebraker’s daughter. She said she never quite learned how to play the piano despite her mother’s record, but would like to take lessons, and asked if I teach. I do, indeed. We exchanged information and I’m looking forward to planting a new seed.

I had no idea, when I started piano lessons all those years ago, that the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob was orchestrating music ministries to span generations as they have. I am convinced, more than other, that He cares about every last detail of our lives, and, until we breathe our last, we are to be faithful to the purpose to which He has called us. I am equally convinced in this affirmation that my love of music, and my love of instilling the love of music in others is part of the purpose He has for me. I am confident He will continue to reveal His plan for me as I continue to seek His will.

Be blessed, today, my friends.

SB

Snooze

This is standard for me. I’m not a morning person by nature, and usually hit snooze several times before having my first morning coffee. I’ve been told I’m like “pushing rope” in the morning. I’m not sure it’s a compliment. Of my many fault, I consider this minor.

Truly, though, I believe God wants us to be fully awake, spiritually speaking, to experience all He has for us. It’s easy to become comfortable and complacent in our lives, and the danger in this is that we will fall asleep spiritually, and miss the blessings He has for us.

32 “But about that day or hour no one knows, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. 33 Be on guard! Be alert ! You do not know when that time will come. 34 It’s like a man going away: He leaves his house and puts his servants in charge, each with their assigned task, and tells the one at the door to keep watch.35 “Therefore keep watch because you do not know when the owner of the house will come back—whether in the evening, or at midnight, or when the rooster crows, or at dawn. 36 If he comes suddenly, do not let him find you sleeping. 37 What I say to you, I say to everyone: ‘Watch!’ ”

Mark 13:32-37 | NIV

In my year of WAIT, I will challenge myself not to snooze spiritually. This means I need to vigilant with prayer time as well as spending time reading His Word, watching and listening for Him. Challenge yourselves, my friends, not to snooze

Be blessed

SB

Building Character

My daughter posted this on her Facebook page yesterday. I told her i consider it successful parenting.

Truthfully, I do have some eccentric tendencies and love to have fun (although I’m told my idea of fun is different than others’).

Have you ever thought honestly about what builds character, though? And about what kind of character you want to build?

Romans 5 tells us that suffering build character through perseverance.

Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; 4 perseverance, character; and character, hope. 5 And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us.

Romans 5:3-5 | NIV

Are you suffering today? Physically? Mentally? Spiritually? (Silly question, for I dare say that each of us are to one degree or another). Remember, the degree to which you endure is the degree to which you build your character. Are you building a good one?

Stay strong, my friends. Endure the trials and build your character.

Be blessed,

SB

Copyright 2019 Journey For Life

NYC missions ~2~

I was traveling last weekend and missed my opportunity to post another story about our missions trip to NYC in 2016. Looking forward to June 2019 when we do it again, I find it fun to think about our experiences during the first trip.

Our trip began on a Sunday after church, where we gathered all of our food and luggage and kids and chaperones into two vehicles rented by the church. We originally rented three but decided everything fit in two and it might be easier. This is a key decision as you will see in a subsequent post.

We pulled out around 2 pm ish and drove across Pennsylvania into Nee York. The ride was fairly uneventful despite the excitement of the kids, who ranged from 4-6 grade. About 5 hours to NYC… not bad. We underestimated the NYC traffic, however, and spent the next three hours navigating through the city to find our host church in Brooklyn.

I asked my daughter, who was on the trip with us, what she remembered about our travel day. She said, “I remember it was a nice, peaceful drive across Pennsylvania and then ‘WABAAM!’ New York City traffic was chaos!” Lol. My sentiments exactly.

Our host church was a place called Living Waters, a three story building with a sanctuary and fellowship hall on the street level, and living quarters above. The pastor and his wife lived in one area, and the other area had dormitories set up for missions groups. We arrived after dark and the group who had occupied the dorms the week before were sleeping because they had a 5 am flight to catch.

Without realizing how lucky we were, both vehicles found parking on the street right in front of the church. We unloaded our luggage and supplies as quietly as we could so as not to disturb the other guests. The pastors mother had a medical problem just before we arrived, so only his wife was there to host (also key for subsequent post).

Exhausted from our trip, we quietly suck into the sleeping quarters to get some rest before our first project the next morning. We fumbled in the dark through the second floor dorms and fell into bunk beds made of two by fours, trying not to wake our roommates.

Goodnight, NYC. Anxious to see what tomorrow holds.