Absolutely!

I try to take a brisk morning walk several times a week in an effort to give my heart some love and to minimize my thunder-thighs. I was out this morning on one of the walking trails that I frequent, when a woman approached pushing a stroller, accompanied by her small, black, dog. The dog was wandering unhurried along, sniffing everything within view. As she neared me she called to the dog, "Come here, Sadie." He did not respond but continued inhaling the shrubbery. While Sadie sniffed my shoes, she smiled and commented to me with a chuckle, "He is not obeying today." I returned her smile, greeted her and the dog, and continued on. As I did so, it struck me "neither is she." Sadie was not on a leash. That is a blatant violation of the parks' code posted on signs throughout the area.

Normally, I might not have given any of this a second thought but lately, the occurrences of this relativistic mindset are rampant. Just a few months ago, the local paper (in light of the latest political scandal) ran in bold lettering, on the front page, the headline, "He's a liar...but aren't we all?" I cringed at the mere sight of it and felt obligated to send a letter to the editor emphatically declaring that, "No. We are not."

Increasingly in our culture, there is an assumption that there is now a "standard quo" in addition to a "status quo." There are no absolutes. Everything, including truth, is relative, transitory, dependent on the whims of human desire and emotion. That is a frightfully slippery slope. But the truth is true whether we acknowledge it or not just as God is God whether we, as a nation, honor Him or not. He is constant; the only sure foundation; the rock upon which I build my life.

S-T-R-E-T-C-H-E-D

As I mentioned before I am nearing forty at warp speed. I am not troubled by this. I have lived through training wheels, training bras, platforms, leisure suits, gauchos, hammer pants, Jheri curls (had a few of these), mullets (but never went there), 8 tracks, 45s, Walkmen, boom-boxes, Pong, Paperboy, disco, new wave, low-fat, low-carbs, The Brady Bunch, The Cosby show, pop rocks, pop quizzes, childhood, and childbirth. The list could go on. I should be forty by now. I have earned the gray hairs that dance wildly on my head. I am very comfortable being forty.

Still, I must confess that there are times when the absurdity of me writing this blog becomes evident. I log on and check to see if anyone has commented, if anyone cares, if what I am saying is relevant to anyone. The goose egg in the comments spot is no comfort. At those moments, I feel like the grandmother wearing the micro-mini skirt that is in desperate need of being selected for "What Not To Wear". Where are Stacy and Clinton when I most need them? ... Then the Lord gently reminds me that it's not about me! This is for His glory.

I can imagine Sarah in her third trimester at the ripe old age of eighty shopping at the market where the other, much younger mothers, were also shopping with their toddlers in tow. I am sure that she caught the occasional gawker in her periphery and I'm sure that she experienced a bit of discomfort . But I am equally sure that she understood the task to which she had been called. I'm sure that she took her dis-ease to The One that had called her to that task, surrendered her pride, and allowed Him to comfort her. And, I am also sure that we who have read her story have benefited from her obedience and willingness to be uncomfortable.

Lord, give me a heart like Sarah's.