Showing posts with label Random Thoughts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Random Thoughts. Show all posts

Sunday, May 13, 2012

happy mother's day

so many emotions...

so many approaches...

so many responses...

celebrations.  disregard.  grudging lunches.  token gifts.  lavish love.  extravagant attention.

2012.  

i choose deep, quiet gratefulness for the past, present, and future.

happy mother's day to those who make my day unforgettable.



© 2009-2012 by Melani Brady Shock

Tuesday, March 20, 2012

with all thy getting...

Wisdom [is] the principal thing; 
[therefore] get wisdom: 
and with all thy getting 
get understanding.
~Proverbs 4:7

I love higher education. There is so much to learn! One lifetime is just not enough to explore and do and seek and ponder and decide and change and pursue and know and question and...

I am considering pursuing another degree. Just because I want to.

The writings of Solomon give me permission to enjoy this pursuit of knowledge. Wisdom, he called it. It's huge, he said. Get it! It's the principle thing! Wisdom. Taken from the Hebrew word, chokmah, which actually carries a strong connotation of skill and speaks of various forms of shrewdness--prudence--wise.
Solomon put no conditions on the fact that all of us who desire it are free to pursue it.

"Get as much as you can," he said...

and...

with all thy getting...

get understanding.

Understanding.  From the Hebrew word, bynah, carrying the meaning of insight--one skilled in understanding the times, the situations--understanding.

With all of our getting of wisdom and knowledge, may we never neglect understanding. There are those who would argue that it is all intertwined and the knowledge and understanding are speaking largely of the same concepts.

But...what if the writer is referring to something else entirely?

What if the "understanding" is that of knowing that the unknown always surpasses the known?

With all of our getting, may we never forget that the Spirit supersedes degrees and science and academia.

With all of our getting, there is still an entire universe of wonder that can only be explained by the Spirit.

With all of our getting, let us never become so educated that God cannot lead us into explanations and experiences that defy human logic and human reasoning.  

With all of our getting, let us not cease to believe in miracles.

With all of our getting, let us never relegate the very Voice of God--the Word--the Bible into the category of ancient book, ancient manuscript, ancient collection of writings from human authors.  Let us not degrade the wonder of the fact that it is God's Voice into a science of textual criticism as we attempt to explain why this or that matters and this or that does not matter.

With all of our getting, let us not make the mistake of attaching more credibility to someone with letters behind their name than we do to someone who has been alone in a secret place with the Creator in days of prayer and fasting.

I'm thankful for the people of the Name who are pursuing wisdom and knowledge and taking our rightful place at the table of academia.

But...with all of our getting, let us understand that the wisdom of God surpasses the wisdom of men. Every time.

And, with all of our getting, let us understand that we do not need academia to prove the validity, the sanctity, the accuracy, or the authorship of the Word of God, the Spirit of God, and the workings of the Spirit in the 21st century.

Understanding.

I want my highest degree to be in that.

© 2009-2012 by Melani Brady Shock

Saturday, January 28, 2012

winter words. . .

for winter lovers. . .

comfort. . .cozy. . .cookies. . .couch. . .cold. . .candles. . .cinnamon. . . .cooking. . .coffee. . .coats. . .

fire. . .frito pie. . .family. . .fudge. . .frost. . .football. . .fuzzy socks

night. . .near. . .

gumbo. . .games. . .gray day. . .gloves

books. . .blankets. . .boots

dogs. . .delight. . .delicious. . .dim. . .

puzzles. . .presents. . .pondering. . .

rain. . .rest. . .reading. . .

scarves. . .scents. . .shivers. . .sweaters. . .smoke. . .spice. . .smiles. . .stew. . .safe. . .scones. . .

snow. . .sometimes. . .

home. . .hot chocolate. . .

warm. . .welcome. . .words. . .walks. . .wanderings. . .wood. . .white. . .

winter. . .

© 2009-2012 by Melani Brady Shock

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

smile without the paint!

Wonder what he looks like without all the paint?  When he's eating alone in the middle of the crowd and in the dark under all the bright lights?

Funny for a moment.  He made us all laugh.  Hahaha, life is grand.


But I wonder if he smiles without the paint?

Friday, March 4, 2011

Time is not the enemy

Not that I would be so presumptuous as to think anyone has missed me, but I am the one who has suffered from my absence.  The need to write and process and progress verbally through the wonderful and challenging roads which I am being privileged to travel requires that I write. To those of you who claw your way through the process with me...well, thanks! Let's move on down the road a bit...

Having already been involved in several major events in this short year (including 15 days in the Philippines) my mind keeps returning to a sign that hangs on the door in a humble home of one of our Filipino pastors:



Indeed.

More than any other temptation in my life, the temptation to control my time is the greatest one I fight.

He knows the number of my days and the plans he has for me.

My prayer is that I may not thwart them by careening full speed ahead with what seems good to me and not asking Him if that is His plan for me.

My prayer is that I give God all the seconds of this day. He knows how to multiply them.

Thursday, December 2, 2010

reading and such

I am beginning my annual "season of reflection" which will last throughout the month of December.  I do not travel during December and try to keep any speaking to a minimum.  It is my time to draw close to the fire and reflect on the good and bad parts of the year that is ending and make resolutions of what to do better in the year that is ahead.


My resolution for 2010 was to make it "The Year of the Book."  Although I'm an avid book lover, various circumstances had forced reading to the back burner on way too many occasions for several years.  I felt stifled and felt as if a part of me was dying and knew that I had to return to a steady diet of books in order to see past the sameness of the every day.  I resolved to try to average one book per week in 2010.

So, my reflection has revealed that I actually averaged one book for about every 10 days.  I was very pleased about that until I read a tweet from Rick Warren yesterday that said:  "In January, I'm starting a Christian Leader's Library webcast.  For much of my life I've read a book a day."

A BOOK A DAY!!!

What kind of book?  Dr. Seuss or a 300-pager?  Retention rate?  Who pastors the church?  When does he find time to write?  Has his wife seen him lately?  Does he eat?  Does he sleep?  That may be it.  I could read a book a day if I didn't have to sleep.  Is he a speed reader?  A genius?

That just floored me.  Boggled my mind.  Did he mean a book a week?

Well, I will definitely be listening to his library webcast.

In the meantime, check out the Book Club label to get my thoughts on some of the books I have read this year and to add yours to the 2011 list.

A book a day.  How in the world...?

Wednesday, January 27, 2010

Epitaph


"Crazy Love" by Francis Chan has worked me over.

I could write for hours and describe my reactions to his many valuable concepts, insights, and scriptural nuggets, but will be very brief with this one reaction.  I don't want it to become lost in verbal clutter.

If I die today, by what works (or lack of works) will I be judged?


O great and mighty God, whose name is the Lord of hosts ... rewarding each one according to his ways and according to the fruit of his deeds. (Jer. 23:18-19 ESV).


Matters of the heart are crucial.  But it doesn't stop there.

It is by my WORKS that men shall know me.

God, forgive me for my dependence upon comfort.

Friday, January 1, 2010

I Will...

On the very cold morning of January 12, 2007, a man sat at a metro station in Washington DC and started to play the violin.  He played six Bach pieces for about 45 minutes. During that time, since it was rush hour, it was calculated that thousands of people went through the station, most of them on their way to work.



Three minutes went by and a middle aged man noticed there was a musician playing. He slowed his pace and stopped for a few seconds and then hurried up to meet his schedule. A minute later, the violinist received his first dollar tip: a woman threw the money in the till and, without stopping, continued to walk. A few minutes later, someone leaned against the wall to listen to him, but the man looked at his watch and started to walk again. Clearly he was late for work.



The one who paid the most attention was a 3 year old boy. His mother tugged him along, in such a hurry, but the kid kept stopping to look at the violinist. Finally the mother pushed hard and the child began to walk turning his head all the time. This action was repeated by several other children. All the parents, without exception, forced them to move on.



In the 45 minutes the musician played, only 6 people stopped and stayed for a while. About 20 gave him money but continued to walk their normal pace. He collected $32. When he finished playing and silence took over, no one noticed it. No one applauded, nor was there any recognition.



No one knew that the violinist was Joshua Bell, one of the best musicians in the entire world. He played one of the most intricate pieces ever written with a violin worth 3.5 million dollars.

Two days before his playing in the subway, Joshua Bell sold out at a theater in Boston and the seats averaged $100 each.

This is a real story. Joshua Bell playing incognito in the metro station was organized by the Washington Post as part of a social experiment about perception and priorities of people.

They wondered if humanity intricately perceives beauty or if it is something dictated to them by peers and media.  They wondered if calendars and clocks were more important to thousands of people than what has been defined as some of the best music in the world.  They wondered if people are so caught up in their own preoccupations, their problems and pursuits that they don’t even know when they step into the sphere of the uncommon.

Gene Weingarten of the Washington Post initiated the experiment and the article describing the event won him a Pulitzer Prize.  But even more impacting than the Pulitzer Prize, is the question that is still resonating from the whole ordeal.  Weingarten asks us all:   If we do not have a moment to stop and listen to one of the best musicians in the world playing the best music ever written, how many other things are we missing?

We read in the Gospels about others who missed some very important moments.
  • ·      A priest and a rabbi missed a wounded man on the side of the road who was dying.  A Samaritan—viewed as second class—was the only one who noticed.
  • ·      An innkeeper missed the moment in Bethlehem when he turned away an exhausted man and a woman in labor on a donkey.
  • ·      A rich, young ruler came close – SO very close – to recognizing the magnitude of the dusty Rabbi.  But in the end, his money proved too enticing…and he gave up earthly fulfillment and eternal riches to hang on to what was familiar to him.
  • ·      The Pharisees and Saducees studied about Him day and night.  They prayed, they expounded, they represented Him 24/7…and when He walked into their temple, they had no clue who He was.
I’ve missed some moments in my life.  Some I know about, but I wonder how many I will never know about?

How many angels have I entertained, unaware of who they were? 

How many needs have I not seen, nor heard, because I was in such a hurry?

How many times have I bypassed the widows and fatherless--what the Bible declares as pure religion—simply because I had a deadline to meet, or a plane to catch, or a list to check off?

The lesson of Joshua Bell and the violin in the subway station has gripped me.

That’s why 2010 will be different for me.

In 2010, I WILL ---- listen.

In 2010, I WILL ---- follow.

In 2010, I WILL ---- go.

In 2010, I WILL ---- stop.

In 2010, I WILL ---- respond.

In 2010, I WILL ---- give.

In 2010, I WILL ---- rescue.

In 2010, I WILL ---- work.

In 2010, I WILL ---- recognize.

In 2010, I WILL ---- act.

In 2010, I WILL ---- allow.

In 2010, I WILL ---- speak.

In 2010, I WILL ---- be still.

In 2010, I WILL ---- love.

In 2010, I WILL ---- 

Monday, December 28, 2009

Reading in 2010

So many books, so little time!  

I'm compiling my 2010 Reading List. I usually do this at the beginning of the year in some form or another...but I'm usually not quite as intentional about it as I am being this year. I tend to stack books "to be read." The larger the stack of unread books, the better I feel, because I know they are there waiting for me at any given moment.  

When I get the time.  

The trouble is, there is so little time.  

And when you stack my spare time next to my stack of unread books, it appears the stack of unread books has already far surpassed the stack of spare time I will have in my life ever again. Hence, the intentionality. My goal for 2010 is to read one book a week. Because, as my friend Scott Jones tweeted yesterday, "Men can live w/out air a few minutes, w/out water for 2 weeks, w/out food for 2 months - and w/out a new thought for years on end." -K Ruth (LOVED that!)  

However...(and herein lies the catch!)...in my determination and intentionality to consume at least 52 books in 2010, I am more focused than ever before on consuming the Word. It would be interesting as well as scary and horrifying to know how many well-meaning people with an intense hunger to know God were led off the path into the the side roads of humanism, self-adulation, and dependence on abilities and marketing instead of the Spirit, all because of what they fed their mind on a daily basis.  

Every book must be processed through the filter of the Word.  

Every innovative idea must be processed through the filter of the Word.  

Every emphatic re-discovered "truth" must be processed through the filter of the Word.  

Otherwise, our souls will soon become a product of of our culture, and the eternal will be swallowed up in the slick, and our lives will become worthless, empty, clanging bells. But there is no way to process all the new books and ideas through the filter of the Word if we don't KNOW the Word. If it isn't hidden in our hearts. If we don't read it over and over and over again to allow the layers of revelation it contains to overwhelm us fresh and new every morning.  

I don't agree a lot of Eugene Peterson's doctrinal positions. But there are a few things he is so right on about until it makes me want to hug him. And he can express it so much more succinctly than I. So, I'll just let him sum up my little out-with-the-old, in-with-the-new-year thoughts I am having this crisp, cold morning.  

He says, "The blunt reality is that for all our sophistication, learning, and self-study we don't know enough to run our lives. The sorry state of the lives of the many who have taken their own experience as the text for their lives is a damning refutation of the pretensions of the sovereignty of the self. We require a text that reveals what we cannot know by simply pooling the acquired knowledge of the ages. The book, the Bible, reveals the self-revealing God and along with that the way the world is, the way life is, the way we are. We need to know the lay of the land that we are living in.  

...Without this text, [the Bible], firmly established at the authoritative center of our communal and personal lives, we will founder. We will sink into a swamp of well-meaning but ineffectual men and women who are mired unmercifully in our needs and wants and feelings."  

Exactly right, Rev. Mr. Peterson. I couldn't have said it better myself!

Monday, December 21, 2009

Tis the Season

Christmas cheer.  Parties.  Happiness flying, penetrating every crack.  Laughter.  Food (so much food!).  Tears (because death comes even at Christmas).  Exhaustion.  Presents.  Hurry.  Cookies.  Love.  Thanksgiving.  Joy.  Singing--off-key, on-key, doesn't-matter-what-key.

Vision.  A little bit of anxiety that death will come too quickly and the to-do list will not be finished.  Dreams.  Calendars.  Clocks.  Yes, I will be happy to.  No, I'm sorry, I can't.  I would love to, but.  Focus.  This next year, I will (fill-in-the-blank).

Then, out of it all, a nugget emerges.  One of those moments that catches your soul off-guard and brings tears of clarity raining down your face.

You may just say, "What?  What's the big deal about that?  The Shock lady is a little bit too dramatic for me."

That's okay.

Because, then again, maybe you WON'T say that.  Maybe it will explode in your heart, too.

Read it and watch the whole 5 minutes of the video:  http://bit.ly/7oQ921

Saturday, December 19, 2009

Christmas Cheer



Wouldn't you agree that this would give anybody the Christmas Spirit?

Saturday, December 5, 2009

Mr. Willie

So, it's the perfect Saturday afternoon and I'm standing at the kitchen counter mixing up a batch of Breakfast Cookies that are to die for.  It's freezing cold outside, the fire is blazing in the fireplace, and Nat King Cole is crooning to me about "Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire."  The dogs are sleeping on the rug under the kitchen table, Bradyn is on the couch exploring Facebook, Terry is at the office, and Kendra has gone to the grocery store for some essential baking ingredients that are nowhere to be found in the pantry.

I'm happy.  Content.  Thankful.  Full of dreams and plans for 2010, but satisfied for now just to be baking cookies on this wonderful Saturday afternoon.  Until Kendra walked back through the door.

She dumped the groceries on the table and turned to me teary-eyed.  "Mom?  Do you remember Mr. Willie?  The homeless man I connected to a few years ago when we were feeding them in the park every Saturday morning?  Remember Mom?  Brother Tim baptized him.  He and I just had a connection, ya know?"

I did remember.  She would frequently come home from those Saturday mornings talking about Mr. Willie. Talking about how there was just something about him that was different.  She really cared about him.  The youth group has since stopped their Saturday morning homeless ministry and she had lost contact with Mr. Willie.

"Mom, I was coming out of the grocery store and when I turned the corner, Mr. Willie was coming across the parking lot pushing a buggy and tears were POURING down his face.  I saw him and just went straight to him and hugged him and said, 'Mr. Willie, what's wrong?' Mom, when he saw me, he just lifted his hands and said, 'Thank you, Lord! Thank you!' I asked him again what was wrong and he just said, 'It's gonna be all right now.  The Lord has let me see you and has reminded me that He loves me.  I've seen you and I know it's gonna be all right!' Mom, he wouldn't tell me what was wrong, he just kept saying that seeing me had let him know the Lord loved him and it was going to be all right.  I asked him if he needed anything and he said the Lord was going to provide it.  I had $5 in my pocket and made him take it.  I told him he had to come to church Sunday and he said that he would be there because the Lord had sent me to let him know it was all right.  He went into the store crying happy tears instead of sad tears and I went on to my car.  Oh MOM!"

Dear God in heaven.  Thank you for reminding me one more time that "to whom much has been given, much will be required." Thank you for reminding me again that Mr. Willie needs my touch this Christmas.  My presence.  My cookies and tears.  All Mr. Willie needs is to see a caring face that reminded him of You to let him know that You still care.  Oh Lord, please help me to stay sensitive this Christmas season.  And to give freely of my hugs and my cookies and my prayers.

Help me to love the Mr. Willies that cross my path.

And Lord, help me to not be so busy and so focused on my list that I miss them.

Saturday, August 22, 2009

I Am Sad

My friend...my dear, dear friend...Barbara Ann Willoughby...entered the gates of Heaven yesterday.

I'm supposed to be happy. She is no longer suffering. Her battle with cancer is over and she won! She is dancing around the Throne of the eternal God at this moment.

But it's hard for me to be happy.

My heart hurts. I ache. There is a tightness in my chest and a big round ball in my throat.

I will remember her with joy. When I say her name, I smile. But my smile quickly fades because I am still human. I am still here. I am still on this side of the river. And she is not. We are separated by an expanse called Death.

I am not tormented by questions...God is sovereign and He does all things well. He said "no" and He knows why. I learned years ago that He can be trusted no matter what.

Faith, to me, is defined as trusting Him serenely even when I don't understand or agree.

But I am sad. I am sad for her children. For Meghan and Barak and Mikayla. For the fact that she will not see them married nor hold grandchildren still to come. I am sad for Steve, who will continue his fight against his own cancer alone. I am sad for Tabernacle of Joy in Singapore who loved her without restraint. And I am sad for all of the ones who will never meet her...never experience her infectious joy or watch her graceful dance or hear her incredible laugh. I am sad for me and for my husband...for the fact that we four will never again ride the back country roads with no destination in mind just to talk and laugh and share vision and feel God and friendship and love.

My heart hurts.


Monday, August 3, 2009

To those who have lost loved ones

The following piece was written by Kendra on her Facebook page yesterday.  It struck a chord with so many...I am honored that she is my daughter and proud to be able to post this here...

To those who have lost loved ones:

I sat at the piano for a while tonight playing a new song. Heavy hearted I began to play an incredible tune by Hillsong and silently pray for the McCool family. “No we-eping, no hurt or pain, no suf-fering, you hold him now, you hold him now…” I couldn’t hold the tears anymore as I stopped playing. Names flooded my mind: Cory McCool….Katie Moore…Sharon Ivie Smith…Denny Doyle…Jason Tackett…Wanda Washington…Cai Larsen…why…why…WHY…

I don't understand. Even after I finish this, I won't understand. I will have godly perspective as I should, but I will not understand.

Death. It strips you of everything and leaves you with a taunt, “Now what are you gonna do?” I hate death. I hate funerals. I HATE cancer. If cancer were a person I would go to jail for murder. Sounds elementary, but you don’t know what people feel unless you’ve been told you have cancer or it develops in a loved one. Cancer is cruel…and even though it’s taken down many that I love, it can still be conquered.

We ask God for healing on behalf of our loved ones- but we scream at Him when they die. I wonder if He ever whispers when we walk away, “But I did. I did what you asked. I DID heal them…..just not in your will…in mine.”

I shoved the piano stool back as I swiftly stood up and walked upstairs. I collapsed on my bed. With tears streaming down my face staring at the ceiling fan I realized why they were taken…they lived their lives to where God finally said, “Well done.” They set their affections on things above. They weren’t concerned with church politics or position.

I have a long way to go before God says, “Well done.”

I am convinced that if we had a TRUE revelation of Heaven, we wouldn’t mourn as much. We would mourn, that’s unavoidable and human nature, but we wouldn’t mourn as much.

From now on, I won’t envision the “death” of the ones I loved, but I will envision Bro. and Sis. Lumpkin doing the Jitterbug on some clouds by their mansion. Katie is probably grinning from ear to ear…and I know she isn’t in any pain. Cai is probably chasing kids and designing a backdrop for the marriage supper of the Lamb. Sharon Smith is cracking EVERYONE up. And singing. Denny Doyle probably is polishing up his “Sam and Will” shrine. As for Kenneth Brady- he’s probably just taking a walk…possibly with Jack Shock…enjoying the scenery and asking God what’s what. And Cory…Cory McCool I would imagine is awestruck of the King without a fear of the future in his mind. He’s probably been singing the same endless song since he got there- and telling everyone about how they will LOVE his wife and kids when they arrive.

I’m setting my affections on things above- this world is not my home- I’m ready to get out of here.

“Where the streets are made of gold, in Your presence healed and whole, let these songs of heaven rise to You alone. No weeping, no hurt or pain; no suffering, You hold me now, You hold me now. No darkness, no sick or lame; no hiding, You hold me now, You hold me now.” -Hillsong