God’s Appetizers

Sitting in my sunroom this morning during devotions, I felt content. The sky was blue and vast making me feel cozy and warm in my favorite chair. There was smoke billowing from a neighbor’s chimney and my home felt nestled in. Just a smattering of snow dusted the roof and birds were singing and playing about reminding me as I clutched my warm cup of coffee that spring was on its way. My dog was hunkered down beside me and the house was quiet and still. I was grateful for this life that God has given me, so filled by its goodness.

A little post from my best friend on the park we used to spend a lot of time at as kids, made me remember all of the fun we had hanging out. The many walks to and from the various parks that surrounded our little town filled with fun conversations and strong bonding moments. I don’t recall conversations, only feeling close to my friends as we spent time together. I can hear our laughter and feel the smiles and happiness we shared. My childhood was filled with so many friends that loved me dearly for exactly who I was. Hours and hours spent with each other. The mundane filled with something indescribably fulfilling. 

Which is a bit ironic because a week ago, I sat in that exact same chair. It felt far more wintery than spring. There was more snow, and the sky was gray, and I was feeling empty. I was focused on the dead plants surrounding me (they were still there this morning), and how the sunroom seems to be becoming more of a catch all storage room than my favorite devotions hang out. That same quiet peacefulness felt like a blanket of heaviness, and I felt disconnected and dissatisfied. I was ruminating on the trauma from my childhood and its correlations to the current feelings of being overwhelmed I had that day. 

I was looking back to that same childhood focused on the pain and how I couldn’t wait to get out of that town. The desire to flee the expectations of perfection that I would never live up to. The weight of the responsibility that I felt had been inappropriately laid on me. How my inability to be perfect ruined everything and caused all of the troubles our family had. How alone and rejected I felt, incapable of being the person I was expected to be. 

What changed? Well, there was a great sermon about this life being the appetizer and not the meal. The weather has warmed up and the sun was out. The birds are coming back and showing signs of spring – but mostly what I was focused on had changed. All of the other changes were minor, perhaps assisting me to focus on the things I love, but life had not changed. I had the same memories of childhood last week as I did this morning. I just was taking out the happy ones and reexamining them, feeling those emotions.  Letting that memory fill me up with contentment. I wasn’t brow beating myself over my shortcomings. I wasn’t holding others to a measure no one could meet. Happiness today wasn’t being measured by “what have you done for me lately” and how my life had threads of pain all through it. But happiness today was being measured by how full my life has already been and the expectation that I have more time to add to that aresenal. 

Sometimes I feel like I’m such a drama queen. My life is such a rollercoaster when nothing has really changed. But life is so much more exponentially full if I reexperience the highs and lows in my memory. If I feel the laughter my best friend and I had as we played at the park; the spinning of the merry-go-round, the feel of the wind in my hair as we pushed our swings higher, or the excitement of the unknown on the teeter totters. Mostly when I remember the feeling of love and acceptance of hanging out with friends. That knowing that I could just be myself. 

This world is the appetizer, and it is not meant to be the meal, but appetizers can be so good. Appetizers can whet your appetite for the good that is to come. They can open conversations and let the fun begin long before your order is ever prepared. I need to remember to enjoy the appetizer because it’s all part of the experience God prepared for me. And it can fill me up until the much anticipated meal arrives. 

By Vicki L. Pugliese

SWIFT ENCOURAGEMENT

There are numerous posts and photos recently of Taylor Swift standing to encourage another artist at the Grammys. Words praising her generosity of encouragement, or doubting her sincerity are both easily found. It brought to mind a time when I sang a solo at family camp. As someone young, I was told I had a great “choir voice” but not a solo voice. I was always very timid about singing solos. That night there was this young mom with bright red hair standing in the center of the back of the room, clearly cheering me on. Later that evening she made time to encourage me and tell me she enjoyed my solo and song choice (Adonai by Avalon).

That was over twenty years ago. Just a few moments of her time and sincere words of encouragement still mean something to me. I don’t even recall her name, but I can see her face clearly. Could she have just been being nice, sure, but those words seemed sincere to me.

I wonder, how often do I withhold my encouragement because I’m afraid that person won’t care or it’s not important? How often do thoughts of praise run through my mind that I don’t speak? Did God give me a chance to show someone love, and fear kept me from following through?

That one act twenty years ago – is still a solid memory. It still makes me feel good. Did I withhold a memory like that from someone? If I had known it would make them feel good twenty years later, would I still withhold it if given the chance to say it again? I sure am quick to send out snarky remarks and what I think is funny observations. I’m lightening fast with the sarcasm and rarely have a filter.

Maybe I could encourage more. Maybe I could simply speak the encouraging thoughts I’m thinking instead of worrying if the person cares, or if someone else will judge me. Even if I think, perhaps they have a choir voice, but I see their effort and desire to do their best, maybe I could encourage anyway. I could funnel God’s love that I feel in that moment. I could make sure that person knows I see them. Whether that means nothing to them, or they still recall it fondly years later. That’s really up to God, isn’t it. I just need to say, “Here I am Lord, use me.”

By Vicki L. Pugliese

God’s Mountain Biking Life

I’ve come to the conclusion, that life is a lot like mountain biking. Hills and valleys leading us from gorgeous mountaintops to treacherous valleys. The path often tree laden and rocky with very low visibility, while at other times gentle with expansive views.

Like a mountain range, our lives have highs and lows. One mountain top might be lower than the one before but located in a long deep valley. Perhaps we see a distant mountain as we’re walking on a long meandering path. It might have a steady gradual slope that is hard in ways we can’t quite put into words. While at other times we might climb rocky cliffs fraught with obstacles on our way to a peak above all others. Your mountain biking path might not resemble mine much at all.

I’m a fairly fearful person. My self-protection mode is strong. I watch in awe those who are missing the safety gene.  I envision people like Lee Stacy, flying down a mountain, leaning into the speed or feet out to experience the full adrenaline rush. He’s the kind of guy that is not afraid. He sees the valley but wants to get his momentum up to climb that next hill. He is fully aware that falling off that bike at that speed could break his kneecap (again). He’d be the first person to say, “What am I supposed to do? Not live?”

Meanwhile, I’ve already changed from pumping my breaks to walking my bike. I know I’m gonna have to drag that bike up the next hill, but I am not embracing the “it only hurts for a little while” mentality. I’m toying with the idea of abandoning that bike altogether. I might even camp-out on the slope, having given up in the moment. My mind having told me, we’ve gone far enough. Several passing mountain bikers later, I’ll start to wonder if I can make it a little further.

Lee and I would experience the path very differently. God designed us differently. We would each experience the mountain tops differently too. Me laying on my back trying not to die as I catch my breath, while Lee is already ready to take on that next hill. I would linger and weigh my choices while he would embrace the unknown. His journey encourages me. My insight might save him a tumble. He’s going to feel the experience and I’m going to intellectualize it.

But just like in life, I’m not supposed to compare my journey with his. God will give me what I need on that mountain top to sustain me through the valley. The struggles I go through will make me stronger, and over that next hill I might need that new strength. Or the rest I decided I needed might be my mountain top after all as I take in all the beauty and little touches God laid in my path to show me how much He loves me.

Jesus knows the path that lies ahead of me, and He knows me. I need only to trust that He planned the entire journey long ago. I don’t have to carry everything I need. I can let Him carry the burden. I can trust Him with the details and just enjoy the view. Whether we’re walking or flying down a hill, Jesus knew that’s what I needed right now. He’s the perfect travel guide and He knows exactly how to get me home. I just need to trust Him.

 

By Vicki L. Pugliese

I Just Need Sunshine

“I just need sunshine, Lord”. The words had barely escaped my lips, as I sat on my sun porch, when the words of the next song “Remember Me” by Mark Schultz started up.

Remember Me. In a Bible cracked and faded by the years.
Remember Me. In a sanctuary filled with silent prayer.
And age to age and heart to heart, Bound by grace and peace.
Child of wonder, child of God. I’ve remembered you…
Remember me.

In a moment only God could design, the sunshine broke free from the clouds just as the words “Child of wonder” were sung. I did remember… many silent prayers in different sanctuaries. I had recently had my childhood Bible returned by my best friend; cracked and faded by many years. I have experienced more than my share of grace and peace.

Overwhelmed and touched so deeply by such a small moment, I felt all the love from all the little moments just like this. All the sunrises and sunsets that were little hugs from God when I needed them most. All the beauty of spring babies that brought me joy over the years – baby cows, baby horses, baby ducks. All the precious moments where my husband, kids, and grandkids have shown me how much I am loved and needed. All the laughter and fun spent with my most precious relationships. The myriad of friends who God has brought into my life exactly when I needed them. Words of encouragement that stuck with me for years to come.

One little timely window of sunshine and I’m placed back on my feet to continue my walk with God. How many of these moments have I forgotten? How many have I not even realized occurred? (That’s far more likely with me. I do miss a lot.) My life has been filled with stress, troubles, trauma, and pain but when I look back – at least this morning – I see all the grace and peace. What a beautiful tapestry my life has been. No tear has been wasted. No heartache has failed to soften me. 

I can’t even imagine a life with out my Lord. My heart hurts for those who don’t have this. I have people I pray for daily, that they would choose Christ or turn back to Him. I want desperately for them to know this grace and peace.

But this morning, I remember. I am grateful for such a God who cares this deeply for me.

By 

Vicki L. Pugliese

Wrapping Not Value

Today I was struggling, again, with seeing my worth. I get caught up in what I see. God helped me to see the difference between “wrapping” and the value of the gift inside. You see I am quite challenged at gift wrapping, but I don’t get upset about it because I know it doesn’t change the value of the gift inside. You can wrap poop in a beautiful box but it’s still poop. Likewise, you could wrap a beautiful and rare gemstone in a paper bag with duct tape to seal it, and that gemstone is still valuable.

Of course, my ADHD brain took off after that bunny.  I’ve seen people who put poop into composts. They probably add other good stuff but mostly they add time, and they add a little effort and pretty soon they have this rich healthy stuff that they add to their gardens. That compost becomes healthy dirt that enables strong new life to grow. If you add time and a little effort that dirt creates more life that creates more dirt. Eventually that dirt gets packed down and the pressure of life creates rocks. Given the right circumstances and the right ingredients those rocks become gemstones. If those gemstones are pulled out of the rock, and the rough edges are chiseled away, the rock becomes something even more beautiful and rare. And it becomes more valuable.

Conversely, if you put poop on top of more poop and you keep adding poop and you do not give it time, it becomes sewage. Sewage will infect the dirt around it and make it unclean and unsafe. It can contaminate the water making it unclean and unsafe. Even if you put that sewage in a gorgeous box, it’s still sewage.

I saw the connection to who I am as a person and that original box of poop. My actions sometimes stink. I’m not as kind as I should be. I think of myself first, and I judge others too harshly. Given time, especially if I fill that time with time spent in the word or in prayer, those actions – that sin becomes empathy. I start seeing those actions through a lens of how I’ve been hurt or hurt others. If that empathy is put in the right conditions, it becomes Godly action where I breathe His love into someone else, or perhaps stop adding new poop to the pile. That love infused into someone else, can become new life. Perhaps a seed or the water to bring them closer to seeing God. Until there are many seeds and watered seeds creating new life and growing life.

The pressure of everyday hardens us. It pushes us and molds us. As long as we are still infusing God’s love into our lives, we become stronger. We become the rock that things can be built on. We provide stability for God’s love to blossom. But until God chisel’s away our rough edges we’re just a rock with the potential of being a gem. If we fight that growth because sometimes it’s painful, we will never reach that full potential.

Life is often hard. It cheats and it doesn’t care that there is pain. When I look back on my life, some of the hardest most painful times in my life also contained some of my fondest memories. There are times that I didn’t think I could go on, and that moment created strength that I didn’t know I had. I don’t really remember any time that was free of some sort of drama or pain. I realize often sometimes that’s my own fault because I don’t always see the consequences of my choices before I make them. Still, I have no memories of life being perfect in every aspect.

Which brings me back to this morning, where I have a good job that I like with people I like working with. I have a great husband and fabulous kids and amazing grandkids that love me and fill my life with wonder. I have sweet pets that fill my life with unconditional love. I have a great home that brings me pleasure, and I can afford my bills and my indulgences. Yet this morning, I looked in the mirror and only saw the paper bag wrapping sealed with duct tape. I didn’t see the gem that God has been building in me. I, for a moment, forgot how content I am in life right now, because of that wrapping that I felt ashamed of. That wrapping that adds no value to who I am and does not take away from the gift God has been creating in me.

It’s taken time and reflection to get me to this place. You’ve probably seen my journey through these blogs. Today, I choose to see the gem God is creating in me and to give it time, and effort. I choose to let God chisel away at those rough edges and TRUST Him that the good work He is creating in me, is not finished. But it’s going to be amazing.

By Vicki L. Pugliese

Pray, Watch, Squirrel

My Why statement would be that God might use me to allow someone to feel His love. Which is slightly different from being His hands and feet, both in who gets credit as well as follow through. I have an issue with follow through. My little ADHD brain gets distracted easily, and if it doesn’t, my warped sarcastic sense of humor would surely jump in and muck stuff up.

All my life, as a Christian I’ve been taught to consider where I am as my mission field. God placed me there for a reason. I don’t need to go to Mexico or Africa – there are people right where I am that need to feel God’s love. At one of the churches that I attended our pastor encouraged us to wake up every morning and pray that God would show us how He could use us. Watch for His direction and step out in faith when we felt Him lead us (Pray, Watch, Step). While this sounds great on paper, let me tell you, that is way too many steps for this old girl. There are far too many squirrels in life to distract me, and at one point, this discouraged me.

I have friends that I have prayed about for a very long time. When we put up our new church building, we wrote names that God laid on our hearts on the dry wall before the walls were put up so that they would always be there and prayed over them as a church. Looking back my guess is that when I talked to those friends about Jesus, I did more harm than good. When I’m intentional – somehow it doesn’t work out for me the way I might hope. It’s not a bad practice. It’s a great practice even, for some people.

But God knew how He created me. He knew I’d wander off and say something sarcastic at just the wrong moment because it struck me as funny, and I didn’t think it through. Execution has never been my strong suit. I have great ideas, but my results usually don’t resemble what I intended – even with my words. God knows exactly how to use all my mess ups; all my miscommunications and distractions.

I have a lot of long-time friends; school, Navy, work, various churches. As I have reconnected with old friends over the last few years, what I am finding out is that the moments where God breathed His love into their lives through me, I barely remember. They’re moments when I was just being me, not even being mindful of God. They’re moments I would look at and say, “Of course I did that.” I can’t imagine not doing that.

And that’s the point. God knew.

God knew I wouldn’t even imagine not doing that in that moment. He knew what that friend needed and maybe hadn’t even communicated to me. One of my friends was diabetic and we didn’t even know. I just knew when she needed to eat, she really needed to eat. And since I was in charge of lunch schedules, I worked around that. I can’t imagine not doing that. I wasn’t trying to be kind or thoughtful – it just was the only thing to do.

I can’t take credit for any of those moments I’ve learned about recently, because it wasn’t me. It was how God designed me. I couldn’t mess it up. He didn’t need a plan B, because He wired me to do what I needed to do to show His love. He had a plan and I got to breathe His love into that friend without even being aware it was important.

I’m sure even my children, if asked, would point out moments that I would never think of. And they’ve forgotten all those moments I thought I was rocking that “Mom” thing. That’s how God has used this weird brain and really warped sense of humor of mine. He planned all of it, long before those moments arrived, and planted what I needed in my very DNA. All I ever needed was to love Him and want others to know His love the way I do.

So don’t worry if you feel like you didn’t make a difference the way you thought you were supposed to. God doesn’t have a Plan B. His plan was always going to work, and you might never even notice that it happened.

By Vicki L. Pugliese

Good Morning Lord

By Vicki L Pugliese

You Never Had a Choice

I didn’t realize my worth,
That I’m precious as any gem.
So I didn’t expect to be valued,
And I wasn’t offended by him.

Instead I believed – deep inside,
What he said could not be lies.
I just wanted to find love,
So I took everything in stride.

And when he left, I thought to myself
Surely this is what I deserved,
It must have been all my fault.
I just didn’t know my worth.

So I believed the final lie,
And now I hated me.

 

But there was you and suddenly,
I couldn’t just walk away.
I wanted to forget it all
But you tied my past to today.

And I believed all of the lies,
No soul, and there’s no pain.
This is my life and my choice.
Putting me first in vain.

I couldn’t see that I was tied,
To how I valued you,
The way that I see all life,
So my past is my future too.

And because I hated me,
I had to hate you too.

 

I knew they were lies,
Deep inside somewhere.
The biggest of them was,
That I wouldn’t care.

My life would move on,
I could put you behind,
A much brighter future,
I was so sure I’d find.

But stripping you of your value,
Now I would never find mine,
I never fixed the problem,
It was all just a matter of time.

And because I hated you,
Now forever I’ll hate me.

 

I stole your voice,
I dismissed your worth.
I made a choice,
I denied your birth.

My smile is just a mask,
And the world may never see
The biggest lie I hide,
Is just how much I hate me.

I wish I’d knew my value,
That someone would see me.
And love me just the way I am,
Instead of how I should be.

You never had a choice,
Dear God, please forgive me.

By Vicki L. Pugliese

I made the other choice, for which I’ll always be grateful, but I believe perhaps I understand. I hope you find your value, and you find it in our Lord. If this is not your story, and you can’t identify; I hope you will be gentle to those who cry inside.

The Pruning of Me

Pruning my roses is cathartic for me. I love searching out the right spot to trim back to. I know that trimming the bushes will allow them to bloom again; fuller and stronger. I see the deep color of the new leaves. I see the thicker, heartier stems pushing through and hints of blooms to come. 

There are parallels to my life and faith. I’m not always happy when God prunes – especially when the decay goes deep. Things I’ve struggled with for a long time that I know need to be cleared away for me to grow. They are familiar and I get anxious when He says they have to go. 

I look at my childhood and see the blooms I once had. I miss them. 

“Remember when I prayed all the time and ran around singing hymns, God?” 

He tells me that He loved those blooms too, but to trust Him, the new blooms will be even better. I worry that my faith was stronger and might never be that way again. He reminds me that I needed that faith to survive the childhood ahead of me and the trauma I would go through.

I learned to go to Him at a very young age, afraid that everyone would abandon me. I would need to know to turn to Him and believe He would always be there even when my world shifted under me.  I would need that when my mom was institutionalized again. 

I learned to be grateful for my life and my wonderful friends. I have been blessed with the best friends my whole life. He shows me that I needed them to counteract the hate I experienced from my family. I needed their kind words to hear Him tell me that I was enough – that I was loveable. 

Now my faith is my own, not words of others that I believed without question. I have gone through deep seasons of doubt. My faith has been tested, and He has proven Himself faithful. I have so much to be grateful for. Even during my biggest struggles, He brought me joy. I know this without question now.

He is the author of the new growth in me. He created the new blossoms ready to bloom. I have had my share of pain – often at my own doing, avoiding the deepest cuts He needed to make. 

I find myself grateful tonight for the blooms that once were, now cut away. I see the beauty in them as they were at their peak. That beauty lets me trust in the promise of what God is yet to do in my life. I see the new leaves. I see the stronger stems. 

I’m sure there will still be whining about the cuts – after all I am still me. But I know I can trust Him because He sees the me He designed me to be.

 

By Vicki L. Pugliese