Upside-Down Kingdom....

So...if you read my first 2013 post, you'll know that I've dusted off this blog and am writing again...after I let "life" detour me for a couple of years.

Back when I first started writing here, I explained why I gave this blog such an incredibly-long-hard-to-remember name. Honestly--true confession time--I don't remember which came first--my reading the following words from C.S. or my thinking of these words to describe to myself this journey of following Jesus through this kingdom that so, so often feels "upside down"...and then underlining, highlighting and circling those words...(many times)...when I found them in his writings. But...here...I'll just share his much more beautiful way of conveying this truth:
"It is only in our 'hours-off,' only in our moments of permitted festivity that we find an analogy (of Heaven). Dance and game are frivolous, unimportant down here; for "down here" is not their natural place. Here they are a moment's rest from the life we were placed here to live. But in this world everything is upside down. That which, if it could be prolonged here, would be a truancy, is likest that which in a better country is the End of ends. Joy is the serious business of Heaven." (C.S. Lewis, "Letters to Malcolm)

And...every time I read his word, "Joy is the serious business of heaven," I'm reminded of my dear, beautiful childhood friend with the name that fit her perfectly--Joy.

So, this morning, because I want those of you who haven't "met" her to be blessed my doing so, I decided to re-run parts and pieces of a couple of the first posts to this blog . The first story will tell you about a wedding we once sang at. (Joy and I had earned the reputation of being pretty good and definitely cheap "wedding singers.")

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"....As I said earlier, "We could sing!" One wedding we sang at required that Jeff (pianist extraordinaire), Joy and I rehearse on a Wednesday night at an even smaller Pentecostal church than the one we called home. This little church had prayer meeting every Wednesday night, which...unfortunately...we weren't late enough to miss. As soon as we came through the doors, the pray-ers invited--make that insisted--that we come join the prayer circle.
Well, chicken that I am, I got right in the middle of Jeff and Joy and grabbed their hands, leaving them to grab the hands of praying strangers. (A prior experience at a nursing home had left me a reluctant hand-grabber. But that's another story for another time.)
So...Jeff reaches for the hand of the man standing next to him, only to jerk around and look at me with THE MOST SURPRISED, PERPLEXED LOOK EVER...like..."What do I do now?" So I look over and realize that man doesn't have a hand...or an arm, for that matter!
But before either of us could say a word, the man literally hollers to Jeff, "Just grab the nub, brother, just grab the nub!"
OK...how can you pray after something like that? Unless you count under-our-breath-body-shaking-unable-to-stop-laughing as prayer.
Come to think of it...maybe God does...at times, anyway. After all, I LOVE hearing my children...and nephews...and token beautiful niece...when they're really laughing....And, He's a much better parent than me...so I feel sure He loves his children's laughter....Who knows, maybe He laughs with us every time we remember the night of the nub."
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This next post tells about one summer when Joy had talked chubby me into going with her to Alabama Church of God Youth Camp (which seemed like a good idea at the time.)
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"So, we get there, find our cabin, and start unpacking our culottes. And, I look over in Joy's suitcase, and its halfway-filled with toilet paper. Well...I panicked! I had not brought any toilet paper! So, I say, "Joy, were we supposed to bring our own toilet paper?!?" To which she replied, "The list said we were supposed to bring toiletries."
I doubled over laughing--mainly from relief that I wouldn't have to go around borrowing toilet paper all week. But I did have to wear the same maxi-length dress to church every night. (Who knew that "camp" involved nightly church services?)
Later that week, Joy had this great idea that we should take a canoe out on the camp "lake" (which was really just a small, muddy pond). I should probably point out that neither of us had ever held an oar.
As you might expect, our paddling only managed to make our little boat keep going around in circles. But, somehow, those circles took us out to the middle of the "lake"...just in time for a thunderstorm!
Lightning is popping down everywhere, and campers are headed for the hills. This man (who eventually ended up being our youth pastor) is standing on the dock shouting through a bullhorn, "Girls, come in NOW!"
Like we WANTED to be in the middle of a "lake" in a lightning storm. Well, Joy is crying. I'm crying. Counselors are gathering on the dock trying to decide if these chubby, sobbing, uncoordinated girls are worth getting struck by lightning.
And...just like that...Joy JUMPS OUT OF THE BOAT. I can't tell if she's swimming or walking on water. (Keep in mind she's doing all this while dressed in soaking-wet culottes.)
When she reaches the bank, she never looks back. She just kept running up that stupid, pine-straw-covered hill. And, the whole time (while still madly rowing) I'm screaming, "JOY, COME BACK HERE!!!"....(I AM SO MAD AT HER.)
So, now, I'm sitting ALONE in that stupid boat, trying to figure out how to use that stupid oar....I know how I wanted to use it....(By the way, Joy has taken her oar WITH HER.)
At this point, with all those stupid counselors staring at me, a lightning bolt was looking dadgum good.
But, the counselor who ended up becoming our youth pastor must have realized that lightning-fried campers don't look good on a ministry resume, so he paddles out and rescues me....which is no easy thing. Have you ever seen a chubby girl, with soaking-wet-down-to-her-hips-hair, in rain-streaked-COCOLA-bottle-thick-glasses, wearing wet-knee-length culottes TRY to go from one boat to another in the middle of a "lake" in a lighting storm?
When I FINALLY did get back to that dock, I had one single, solitary thought:
I AM GOING TO KILL JOY!
But...when I....finally...made it....up...that....stupid...steep...rain-slickened...hill........to our...stupid...cabin....Well, she's so pitiful sitting on that cot...I couldn't do it. She looks up at me with those blue, tear-filled eyes and says, "I'm sorry. I was just SO SCARED. I thought you'd jump out with me."
She had a point. I had always jumped when she jumped. Got into trouble when she got into trouble. Laughed when she laughed. Sought the Holy Ghost when she sought the Holy Ghost.
So, we hugged...and changed into dry culottes.
Joy died...more than 20 years ago now. She didn't realize a train was coming.
I still remember hearing those choked-up words from my Daddy. "Joy is dead, baby."
How could that be? I'd promised I would come see her and her beautiful baby girl the next time I was home....
So I went home...to Joy's funeral...which was packed with all the students whose lives had been touched by her teaching and laughter....
After her funeral, I drove back to mine and Kev's dark little apartment in Knoxville. I remember walking in, laying on the couch, and just feeling so... empty... alone... miserable...when the words of a song that Joy and I had sung together in our little church came flooding in:
My hope is built on nothing less
Than Jesus’ blood and righteousness.
I dare not trust the sweetest frame,
But wholly lean on Jesus’ Name.
When darkness veils His lovely face,
I rest on His unchanging grace.
In every high and stormy gale,
My anchor holds within the veil.
His oath, His covenant, His blood,
Support me in the whelming flood.
When all around my soul gives way,
He then is all my Hope and Stay.
On Christ the solid Rock I stand,
All other ground is sinking sand;
All other ground is sinking sand.

So...when I read C. S. Lewis' words: "Joy is the serious business of heaven," of course they make me think of that ultimate, eternal Joy we are traveling toward through this upside-down Kingdom. But, they also make me think of my Joy...our Joy. Her bubbly laughter must certainly add to heaven's joy. I can't wait to hear it again.

"Those who sow in tears shall reap in joy and singing."
(Psalm 126:5, Amplified Bible)

New Every Morning....

Isn't time funny?

This morning, as Honey and I talked over our first cup of coffee, we were trying to remember WHEN certain things had happened. What we realized is that it seems like certain things--whether good or bad--happened YEARS ago and, at the same time, only a few months ago.

But...our conversation got me to wondering about WHEN I started writing this blog. And, I went back and found that it's been four years! At the time, I intended to use it as a way to make myself write. As a wannabe writer...people keep telling me, "Writers HAVE TO WRITE...whether they feel like it or not." But...confession time...I've not been faithful to do so. 

But, as a friend reminded me this morning, "His mercies are new every morning." And, especially on this brand-spanking-new-first-morning-of-the-year, I feel like picking up some old dreams and dusting them off and breathing new life into them. 

So...if you'd like to join me as I write about my journey...our journey...through this upside-down kingdom, check back from time to time. I'll be sharing things that family and friends sometimes ask me to share--thoughts about being a Jesus-follower and what that means as I also try to be a wife, mom, daughter, sister, aunt, in-law, friend. I'll also share some dadgum funny stories from time to time, with a few recipes and some music and wise words from people much smarter than me thrown in for kicks. 

In other words, I'll share the things in life that I enjoy the most and/or am learning from the most. Feel free to share back!

For today, I thought I'd share my recipe for New Year's Stew. Don't worry, I'm NOT one of those foodies who grow their own organic gardens and use ingredients from some far-eastern country. SHHH...don't tell anyone...but I FREQUENTLY use things that come in CANS for most of my recipes. 

And, for "dessert," some beautiful words from one of my favorites to encourage all of us as we start out on this brand new year.

New Year's Stew

Leftover ham 
     (...For the pork that Southerners believe they're REQUIRED to eat on New Year's. Of course, you could always use turkey, etc.., but don't blame me for a lack of luck.)

1 (32-oz.) box chicken broth

1 can Margaret Holmes Seasoned Mixed Greens (drained)

2 cans Margaret Holmes Hoppin' John

Any leftover veggies you have from the holidays (I used carrots and celery in this batch.)

Combine all the above in a crock pot and cook until veggies are tender. 

Of course, any stew is best eaten with homemade cornbread; so, my recipe for that is below. 

Karen's Homemade Cornbread

Preheat oven to 400. 

Get out your cast iron skillet and pour in a small layer of vegetable oil.

(If you don't HAVE a cast iron skillet, then...you'll just have to use Saltines...and...WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU???)

As you're mixing up the following ingredients, heat vegetable oil on the stove and sprinkle a light layer of corn meal, cooking until golden.

In a separate bowl, combine the following:

2 large handfuls self-rising corn meal

1 large handful self-rising flour

1 LARGE heaping Tablespoon of Duke's mayonnaise (Thank you, Shawn LaBelle, for being my supplier.)

1 egg

Stir together with enough milk that it is not too thick but not too thin.

Pour into cast iron skillet and bake at 400 for 25-30 minutes. 

This is best eaten HOT...and slathered with butter.

And...now...for "dessert":

"I know all about the despair of overcoming chronic temptations. It is not serious, (as long as you do not allow) self-offended petulance, annoyance at breaking records, impatience, etc., to get the upper hand. 

No amount of falls will really undo us if we keep on picking ourselves up each time. Of course, we shall be very muddy and tattered children by the time we reach home, but the baths are all ready, the towels put out and clean clothes are in the cupboard. The only fatal thing is to lose one's temper (with one's self) and give it up. 

It is when we notice the dirt that God is most present in us: it is the very sign of His presence."

(C. S. Lewis, from "Letter," January 20, 1942)

Happy 2013! My hopeful prayer for myself is that the Jesus in me will become more...and I will become less...that He will help me grow in freedom and fruit.