Well, not in the sense that she doesn’t have them anymore; I just mean that I would not have known them if it weren’t for her, and I still have never met some of them face-to-face; But yet now they are my friends too, and she’s not in the immediate picture with regard to the new friendships.

I think it’s a new kind of virtual friendship-sharing, facilitated by social networking sites like FaceBook. It means I can actually make meaningful connections with people who I am sure I really want to know, because the people with whom they already have deep connections already have deep connections with me. (Follow that, and you should follow me on Twitter.)

Said a simpler way: I know and love and trust my best friend and sister; I trust her choices in the friendships she maintains. Therefore I trust that her friends are people I want to know, and those friends give new and exciting relationships that exist differently and separately from my sister’s, yet enrich that sisterly bond. And me.

It’s hard to explain, but it’s real. And it’s cool. And I wouldn’t trade it, and them, for the world. I love my sister. I love her friends. I love that she’s OK with me ‘stealing’ them.

Life is good.

She is an incredible writer.

Mostly because she writes from the soul.

Her soul is full to overflowing and she needs to share some things here.

But she is SO busy. So consumed with things she shouldn’t have to be.

So she doesn’t write. (Maybe she writes in her head, but not here…)

We are all the less for it.

(At least I am.)

So this is why I am bogarting the SisterBlog.

Both of them recently completed a Leadership Training Academy with Asante Africa, the foundation through which we sponsor these wonderful young people. (Learn more about this incredible effort in East Africa at http://www.asanteafrica.org/ or http://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/Asante-Africa-Foundation/144439818617 and consider sponsoring a child or volunteering your time or money. SERIOUSLY.)

I have a worry, however: In both Kenya and Tanzania, there is a mandated “gap year” following high school before students may enter college. It is during this year that many are “lost.” Without formal gap year education or exchange programs, it is difficult to keep students engaged and motivated to continue their education. Many women marry and begin their families. Many young women and men take jobs making far less and having much less impact than what they could if they continued their education.

I pray these two will not be among the “lost” but forge ahead looking for opportunities to sustain and continue their hard-fought education and that the result will be far beyond what they could hope or dream.

And we will benefit from this. All of us.

Please pray for Rosemary and Samson.

Last week all three of us had a hard day at work and we were relating some of the concepts of this week’s study to corporate life. The husband of one of my friends called her to share a couple of verses to encourage her that day and she shared them with us. Here is one — it may be familiar to you, but consider it in context of work, and replace “the wicked” and “evil people” with “people who aren’t treating you fairly” or “co-workers who are mean” and see how encouraging Psalm 37 is:

1 Don’t worry about the wicked
       or envy those who do wrong.
2 For like grass, they soon fade away.
       Like spring flowers, they soon wither.

3 Trust in the LORD and do good.
       Then you will live safely in the land and prosper.
4 Take delight in the LORD,
       and he will give you your heart’s desires.

5 Commit everything you do to the LORD.
       Trust him, and he will help you.
6 He will make your innocence radiate like the dawn,
       and the justice of your cause will shine like the noonday sun.

7 Be still in the presence of the LORD,
       and wait patiently for him to act.
Don’t worry about evil people who prosper
       or fret about their wicked schemes.

23 The LORD directs the steps of the godly.
       He delights in every detail of their lives.
24 Though they stumble, they will never fall,
       for the LORD holds them by the hand.

I am thankful that I have the exceptional privilege of working with so many people who truly have a much “bigger picture” than the microcosm of our corporate world, and that when we experience frustrating and even maddeningly unfair circumstances, we can still be encouraged by each other and by the very God of the Universe!

Life is good.

Would you be angry? Sure. Frustrated? Hurt? Violated? Sad? Of course. All of those and probably more. How soon would it take you, the victim, to think about the criminal(s) and what kind of state their soul and mind must be in to do such a thing? I think I would hate them for at least a week. Maybe more. Then with each retelling of my story the anger would well up again.

But my sister isn’t like me. She is a much wiser woman. The day after her car window was smashed and personal belongings stolen she posted on FaceBook, “I’m sad for the person that stooped to such a low level of humanity… I’ve been wondering what makes a person so desperate they feel it necessary to do something like that. It’s really sad to me–our stuff can be replaced and money can be re-saved with time, but the person that did it has deep needs that won’t be met by the stuff they steal–and will only bring guilt and shame. We’re praying that he (she) reads the journal that was in my purse so they will hear about Jesus.”

Wow. Her heart heard God’s and responded like Him instead of how she probably felt. I love this about my sister.

Mean people suck. And Jesus loves them just as much as non-sucky people. Isn’t that incredibly amazing? What a hope to cling to.

I love Jesus. I love my husband. I love my daughter. I love my mom, my sister, my friends. I love my dog. I love my job and the people I work with. I love the kids we sponsor in East Africa. I love the gals at Safeway I see each week when I check out with my groceries.

I love the people in the band I play with every week at church. I love the area in which I live. I love the place in which we hope to retire. I love going to Mexico. I love traveling to new places and meeting new people. I love my church and the amazing times of worship, teaching, learning, giving, and community there. I love the soup kitchen that serves meals to hard-up familes in our community seven days a week. I love the places that care for the older folks in our cities.

I love cooking and making up new things. I love having people over and making them feel at home. I love hiking, and shooting and coffee and quiet mornings, and reading good books. I love digging in the dirt and making things grow. I like the smell of rain and I love when the sun comes out. I love Autumn.

You know, I really don’t know what LOVE is all about.

Praise God for a well-marked trail (also for a husband with a good sense of direction).

A Well-marked Trail

Praise Him also for a path less defined. After all, isn’t it about the journey and lessons learned along the way?

Twenty-five years have flown by fast. She’s a smart, talented, independent, successful, and still gorgeous, grown up woman now. Maybe she’ll marry soon and have babies of her own. I hope she cherishes every growing-up moment.

Mothers, cherish the at-home years with your children. All too soon they’re not your babies any longer and you’ll find yourself calling them on the phone to see how their week is going…

I would like to know what ants are here for. I am told they are earth’s cleaning crew. I think they are here to annoy humans.

Tiny, little bothersome beasts without brains sent up from their bottomless pit of a nest under my house to search out new corners where Raid has not been applied in the recent past. I think they are in league with Lucifer, lurking just under the floorboards or behind the wallboard, waiting for a moment I am not looking, to burst forth in little black trails of nastiness. Their evil purpose is not only to mess with my emotions but to see just how much Raid I can use before I get cancer.

They are wicked and sinful and deserve punishment. I going for the Borax.

Wish me luck in this epic struggle.

I just returned from vacation, where invariably my cluttered mind gets uncluttered and God gets through. I think more clearly about things that matter. Also, I read a lot.

This time I read the book, Crazy Love by Francis Chan. A chapter that really struck me is titled, Serving Leftovers to a Holy God. Malachi 1:8 is referenced where priests were sacrificing blind and lame animals instead of only the best as God had commanded. God called them on it, told them they wouldn’t use these animals to prepare food for an honored guest yet they were sacrificing them in God’s holy temple. God called this practice evil. In fact, it disgusted Him so much that He said He wished there was someone who would just shut the temple gates.

The practice of giving God what is left over in our lives (money, due to bills; time due to busy schedules; attention, due to forgetfulness) He calls evil. But we think, “Well, I’m giving more than the next guy.” Or, “Hey, something is better than nothing…” These are not the ways God thinks. He thinks it stinks. And since He’s the Creator of the Universe and the One Who provides my very next breath, He gets to define evil, and He says this is it.

So here is my confession: I have drug my sorry, sleepy self through the sanctuary doors early on Sunday mornings to give God and my brothers and sisters my pathetic leftovers. Having not practiced with excellence, meditated on the day’s lyrics, listened to a new song (because, you know, I am so busy!) and demonstrated before God and my church family a practice God calls evil. Please forgive me.

Tim Kizziar said, “Our greatest fear as individuals and as a church should not be of failure but of succeeding at things in life that don’t really matter.” Francis Chan wonders in this chapter how many doors of American churches would God just like someone to shut? I don’t want my church to be on this list.

Whatever it is that we do, to serve God, our community, each other, let it be our best. Let’s give our first fruits, not only with regard to our money, but our time and our attention.

I wouldn’t serve leftovers to even the most familiar of guests, why would I even think of serving leftover anything to a holy God?