Kookie Cut-Outs by Rachel Britz

I love the mountains. My beloved husband proposed to me at 14,000 feet in the Rocky Mountains. Our elevated captivation then inspired a simple wedding in a chapel overlooking the Sawtooth Mountains. The mountains swell in mysterious adoration. One can hardly believe that such an experience, such a sight could possibly be so grand.

The journey however to the mountains lacks in any luster. For me, traveling to euphoric splendor requires that I go through the Great Plains. A stretch of land filled with more of the same. Open fields leading to open fields. Mile after mile. Hour after hour. It’s a quest where patience and waiting is required.

In life we talk about our highs and lows, ups and downs, mountains and valleys. But what about The Great Plains? The place in life where everything looks and feels the same. It’s a nice straight smooth ride. It’s comfortable and easy. Ground Hog’s Day set on cruise-control. As I write this posting, I myself am traveling through The Great Plains. Over and over I ask God what he wants from me right now. Over and over I think I hear Him asking me to”Be still” and “Wait Patiently.” For some of us, we would much rather remain traveling along life’s steady, unchanging byways. However, I find myself camping alongside the campaign for change and more change. Needless to say stillness and patience challenges me to the core.

Spelled out, the Great P.L.A.I.N.S. provide the perfect acronym to guide us through what might otherwise feel like a boring, wasted season of life.

P is for Patience
L is for Listening
A is for Anticipation
I is for Instruction
N is for Nourishment
S is for Silence

For me, now is the time to be silent and listen. For me, now is the time to receive nourishment through instruction. For me, now is the time to patiently anticipate the next season that I must walk through. But what about you? What season are you in? Any tips for a fellow traveler?

Two years ago my best friend Jill found herself the most down on her luck. Well, I believe luck didn’t really have anything to do with it but that’s another story. Their family owned business was forced to close it doors leaving in its wake a desperate economic crisis within the walls of their home. Faced with mounting bills, heat and electric disconnections, and foreclosure notices an odd thing occurred.

Out of their distressed situation this very real, spiritually driven compulsion to give to others in more dire circumstances began pulsing through their hearts and minds. Jill has described that during one Sunday, while sitting in church, she had this idea come to her. Why not have a family potluck-fundraising event in their own backyard. It would be a day filled with bands, kids events, and fundraising for impoverished children around the world. After some thoughtful prayer, Jill remembered receiving, at Christmas time, a catalog from an organization called World Vision. In this catalog you could purchase livestock animals as Christmas gifts for children all over the world.

With her family-friendly live music event in one hand and the World Vision resources in the other; the idea for Livestock was birthed. In June of 2008 the first annual Livestock rocked neighborhoods all over St.Peter, MN. Raising more than $4,000 through the purchases of animals such as goats, chickens, sheep, cows, pigs, bull, and fish ponds.

This year we held our 2nd annual Livestock event. Bigger bands, expanded food tents, larger crowds but most importantly a nearly doubled fundraising total. $7,000 worth of livestock to be distributed via World Vision to some of the worlds most down and out families.

In the Bible we are told that those who give to the poor will lack nothing (Proverbs 28:27). As Americans its hard to conceive what it means to lack anything. For most of us, this means we lack a bigger house, better car, or that promotion to secure those monetary hopes and dreams for our future. To lack nothing means that we have it all. Could this simple divine instruction quite possibly be the end-all, cure-all to all our life’s problems?

We all have broken imperfect lives. Always lacking in some fashion. When I consider the work of giving to the poor I believe its out of our own lacking that God can use us best. In Jill’s case, lacking in her own families financial provision, she stepped out in faith to do what God placed upon her heart. Giving to those in need was not guilt driven task but a passionate plea from her Father. She obeyed and today it’s her heart that lacks nothing.

When I was growing up I ate whatever I wanted. My brother and I would walk nearly a mile, up-hill both ways, to get to the candy store. Pockets loaded with lemon sours, pop rocks, and candy cigarettes(whatever happened to those?) all for just a pennies-price. As a kid I remember snacking on things like Doritos, Twinkies, Nutty Bars, Spaghettios, and Dinty Moore Beef Stew right from the can.

Back then I didn’t know what preservatives were. Back then I didn’t understand the concept of artificial ingredients. Back then it was more about living in the moment and instant gratification. You might say over the years I’ve become more educated on food consumption but in reality the older I get the more I desire things that are pure.

Purity. I find myself staring down upon it like an unwavering scale. Unforgiving and unattainable or so it seems. I’m curious though what it really means to be pure? I’m willing to bet it has a lot to do with preservatives. Preserving my thoughts; Guarding my mind from thoughts that reel themselves over and over like an on screen drama. Preserving my words; One too many times I have owned spoken words that could break my mothers back. Preserving my deeds; The choices I made yesterday, last month, and many moons ago are all pieces of who I am today.

I’m no goody two shoes. In fact, I don’t think I could be one if I wanted too but somewhere deep inside of me has a new-found longing to relish the things that are clean and fresh and innocent. When its all said and done, I want the preservation of my soul to matter most. I ponder the role that purity plays in my keeping.

Have you ever had the feeling that someone was watching you? Spine chilling to consider our every move under the gaze of some strange, unknown eyes. Yes, I’ve had my fair share of these fear-filled episodes. All of which turned out to be my minds wander lust for creating the most horrific means to my end.

For the last three years I have been watched. Going to get the mail, mowing the lawn, and digging in the garden have all been observed by the same watchful eyes. My comings and goings; all documented. My children’s outdoor playfulness; all consumed. Though you might consider this to reign in the creepy camp it, in fact, has been one of the biggest blessings to our move to Mankato.

Alice, our 68 year old neighbor, lives due North of our home. Her picturesque living room windows, facing due South, have made a haven for enjoying wildlife, nature, and her neighbors (that would be us). In her living room sits her own chair and next to it is a lamp that is always on. Its rare that I can see her sitting there but I always know she is there because of the glowing lamp.

In the last three years we’ve culminated a lot of sweet neighborly gestures. One time my car got stuck in our driveway after a snowstorm. Within minutes her husband had been commissioned to my rescue with his snow chains. Notes pop up in my mailbox filled with insurmountable gratitude and words of praise just for being neighbors. Then there was the time that I was feeling the most down on my luck when she randomly stopped by with a plate of cookies and smiling cheer. Every morning I leave the house at 5am for my bakery job and every morning her lamp is glowing from her living room windows. It has filled my day with peace just knowing that she is there. I guess you could say that its become, in my minds eye, some sort of guardianship.

When I grow up I want to be like Alice. She always has a positive spin on life even though circumstances might suggest otherwise. For 2 years now she has been battling Ovarian Cancer. Through all the treatments, traditional and experimental, she has been determined that she will overcome this challenge. When I go to visit she always says “It’s a good day because its the one I’ve been given.” In recent weeks I’ve noticed an increasing glow about her. Her skin has radiated brightness. Beautiful, absolutely beautiful.

A few days ago I learned that dispite her efforts to forge through this unwanted physical battle it was quickly taking its claim. Today I learned that she has crossed the river and is now in the presence of God. I will miss her greatly but celebrate in knowing that she is walking in splendor.

When my grandma was living, I remember her caring eyes for the neighbors out her front window. It never came with judgements or nosiness but rather, a heart of love and care for the ones before her very eyes. For this reason, I admire the way Alice has watched me and my family. One of my favorite verses in the Bible is the one where the Kings mother is telling her son about what to look for in a woman. Specifically what God sees as beautiful in His eyes. It reads:

“She is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come. She speaks with wisdom, and faithful instruction is on her tongue. She watches over the affairs of her household and does not eat the bread of idleness. Her children arise and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her: Many women do noble things, but you surpass them all.” Proverbs 31:25-29

In further passages were told that this women’s lamp does not go out night. I could interpret that many ways but for the sake of Alice I believe that her “lamp” suggests her light from within. The way she carefully watches over her family, friends, and neighbors. The way she breathed light and encouragement into the lives of those around her. Alice, you will be missed but your lamp will continue to shine brightly!

What the Duke! I have a girlfriend who regularly uses this expression. I believe its original intention was to supplement expletive words in an effort to protect young ears or maybe even blameless hearts who otherwise wouldn’t be able to bear such language. It’s so catchy that I now find myself slipping it into conversations. It adds just the amount of pizazz to garner a silly or sarcastic expression. I love it!

This past week I was invited to speak at church. I’m not quite sure how I’ve gotten to this place. The place where I’m standing before others and sharing what’s on my heart. Who the duke cares what I have to say anyways? At least that’s what it feels like to me. Thankfully God and those closest to me are breathing words of encouragement through me that, to be honest, at this moment in my life I don’t think I see in quite the same way.

So what the duke is going on here? I love words. I love to write. I love to hear stories. I love to tell stories and if you’ve ever caught the long-wind of any of them then you know that the theatrics and wild hand gestures are a package deal. It’s not my fault though. It’s genetic. The theatrics stem from my fathers side and the wild hand gestures inherently bend from my mothers side.

Words. They have the power to break and yet they have the power to heal. They have the power to diminish and the strength to empower. They can be catchy and infectious and spread like the swine-flu on the winds of a media frenzy. Maybe because of my hearts passion for them, God is willing to use me to share them. Who the duke knows?