Spend less, Give more.

Life is complicated. And, for me, it's messy. Too messy.

It's a new year and as I do every new year, I resolve to get organized. Mind you it's a life long struggle of monumental proportions. I, who am married to a creature of habit and the mother of a girl who has all her ducks,all in a row, all the time. It's daunting! Look at this closet belonging to my granddaughter, Ruby- it's perfectly ordered by her mother, my Amanda. This girl, who rightly described herself as one who has "a place for everything and everything in it's place" went on to describe me as "someone who also has a place for everything: when she puts something down, that's it's new place".

It is no lie, that after my father's death, when I opened his dresser drawer and saw multiples perfectly white, perfectly folded and perfectly stacked undershirts next to similar stacks of underwear and socks, that I nearly fell to my knees and I actually said out loud, Oh, Poppa, why could I not have inherited that "neat and orderly gene" from you? Why? I who need it so much?

A few years ago, I read a newspaper article about a small group of friends who committed to not spending unnecessarily in the year ahead. There was a general recognition among them that maybe they were doing a lot of unnecessary buying and they challenged themselves to stop. They were amazingly successful, even committing to making gifts instead of buying them. I read it and thought, it would be a double win for me...I'd spend less, AND I'd have less to manage.

I started out with good intentions, but, I only lasted a few weeks. I lost focus and I didn't have the strength to do it. But, I'm thinking it's time to try it again. I look around at my piles and I know I just own too much STUFF. My closet is packed. How many white blouses does one girl need? And, dare I say, how many pairs shoes is one too many? I need to try something radical, so, why not start here? I am not sure the full scope of what I will do or how long I will last, but, here is what I'm going to aim for.

Buy only what is genuinely needed Use what I have before replacing it (thinking make-up, hair products, lotions, etc)When I do need to buy something, try a less expensive option and see if it works wellTake lunch to work instead of resorting to fast foods or expensive lunches outUse the greeting cards and stationary I've already purchased Read the books already on my shelvesBless those who need a blessing instead of indulging my every desireListen to music we already own vs adding to an already huge libraryStop renewing subscriptions of magazines I don't have time to readUse the clothing already hanging in my closets and in my drawersGive away clothing I haven't actually worn in the last yearContribute more to missions and other causes I believe inBuy more fresh and less processed foodBrew my own coffee in my own kitchenStart a giveaway box for the Salvation Army and donate monthly Give money more often to the guys on the freeway on ramp
Take dinner next door to our recently widowed neighbor and eat with him Spend more time in my backyard this summer, nurturing tomatoes that we love

The writer Ethel Barret, said once, that we spend money on things we don't need, with money we don't have to impress people we don't even like. I don't know if that's all true of me, but, I think it's time to think more about where it's all going and what I'm carrying into my home. I want to be intentional about how I'm spending the money I work for and what I'm giving up my time to maintain.

Okay. It's a start. No guarantees, but, I'll let you know how I do. I just want to get this stuff under control before it consumes anymore of my time and attention. I have so much to be thankful for. So many blessings. I want to spend more of my time on the people I love and less time taking care of things I don't really need. Game on.

Gratitude is the Greatest Gift

I've had a very lazy morning...sitting up in bed with a hot cup of coffee, reading magazines, doing my morning Bible study, catching up with email, FaceBook and the Sunday paper. I've been reminded repeatedly this morning, that gratitude is indeed crucial to happiness.

A friend from afar posted a sweet and simple video on FaceBook today, recording for all the world to see, the simple things she was rejoicing in. Hot coffee, a beautiful view outside her window, her pooch staring out the window and moments of peace and quiet while her loved ones still slept. Overwhelming joy was what enveloped her.

It is an imperfect life we live, and most certainly, in a world that started perfect but has declined with the passage of time. I fully understand how one can be tempted to give in to the despair and hopelessness that may surround us. But, I still believe that gratitude is the best possible option, in every situation, and, that when we choose the course of gratitude, we are the beneficiaries of the unspeakable contentment that flows from it.

Psalm 124 reminds me that God is with me, for me and beside me. That said, it follows that there is no storm that can consume me. I can, even in the midst of the waves crashing over my head, the raging tides pulling me under and taking my breath away, be grateful that He is with me. He is for me. He is going to carry me through. I am devoted to that simple truth.

Even so, gratitude, like love, is a decision we must commit to, long before the storms of life assail us. I read an article about the actress Kyra Sedgwick in the newspaper. She spoke openly about her 23 year old marriage and confessed that she and her husband had endured their share of hard times. One argument had lasted an astounding six months! But, they came through it, because they had, early on, made a decision that there would be no walking away. The power of a choice, displayed. Others would have given up at about day 62. But, they held firm. They chose to press on to the other side. Well done!

I have been on vacation for the last 8 days. I have also been dreadfully sick for the last 8 days. This morning a friend sent me a text saying she was sorry I was still not up to par, but wisely remarked what a blessing that I was not encumbered with the responsibilities of my work. Much of what I had planned to do in this time had to be postponed or shelved entirely. Many things were scaled back. But, in the end, I can give thanks. Thankful that while I didn't know I'd be sick this week, God did. He knew I'd need this time to rest, relax and let me body recharge. He knew it would also cause me to sleep longer, sit more and relax, guilt free. I've been able to do all of these without worrying about the concerns of my job. Truth is, I am blissfully unaware of what awaits me come Tuesday when I'll return to work. As the Bible says, "each day has enough worry of it's own."

Christmas is my favorite time of year. I love that our busy world honors Christ by the very acknowledgement of the celebration of His birth. I love that people are generally kinder, more generous and more patient. But, I know that it's also a season that makes many of us melancholy. It can be a time we focus on sorrowful things-loved ones gone, relationships broken, disabilities unhealed and broken hearts not yet mended. Even so, we have a choice. We can choose to focus on loss, or we can choose to be frateful, sometime even for what we have lost. We can be thankful that we had the blessing to begin with. When I think of my Dad and am tempted to despair that he is forever gone from this world, I remind myself that I am blessed to have had him for the better part of my life. I am grateful that the light of his love still shines brightly in my heart and mind. Blessed.

The apostle Paul had what was referred to as a "thorn in his flesh". He repeatedly prayed to have this "thorn" removed. We don't know what it was, but we know it hindered him from living as he would have chosen. We know it was humbling and that it was a chronic, physical problem which was debilitating. At times it kept him from work. He was clear that he wanted it gone. The Bible tells us that God refused to grant Paul's earnest plea. Instead, God reminded Paul, that His grace would be sufficient for Him. Paul was able to acknowledge that this thorn kept him from being full of himself, or from taking credit for what only God could accomplish. Paul learned to delight in his weakness, knowing that God was using it to draw others to Him. Onlookers saw God at work in the life of someone who could have chosen bitterness, but chose gratitude instead.

There is no doubt that our enemy, who is constantly prowling around us, will seek to defeat and to discourage. He will remind you soon and often of your failures, who has wronged you, your imperfections, your disabilities, your dysfunctional family (whose isn't?), and of course, your "rights". It is his aim to make you bitter, angry, unforgiving, unwilling to reconcile or to humble yourself. He knows this is often a brutal life and he wants to bring you to despair. He wants it to embitter you. He will bring to mind all the toil of this journey...the missed flights, the wrong turns, the flat tires, the one star accommodations, the lack of leg room and all the scary turbulence along the way. But don't be deceived. It's an amazing trip we're on, filled with sunrises and sunsets and breathtaking scenery in between. We are promised a future and a hope. Fix your eyes on Jesus.

And be very grateful.

You'll have a Merry Christmas. Guaranteed.

If it doesn't work at home,why are we exporting it?

I am part of a church I genuinely love. It is a large body of believers, comprised of people from every walk of life. There are those with great material wealth and those with very little. There are ministries to meet the needs of nearly everyone- single parents, the homeless, students, young professionals, young parents, children and the aged. There are groups for the sick, the addicted, the grieving and the uncertain. There are people who give of their time and their money and their energies consistently, who pour out themselves as an offering to the body. There are also those who take and never quite get to the point of giving back. It is not a place of perfect health. In fact, we suffer from the same problems the world at large suffers from. We are pressing toward the goal of being transformed, one day at a time, to the image of our Savior, but, we are in process.

As a body of believers, we have grown in our commitment to world missions. Instead of having summer camps for our kids, we've recently encouraged them instead to take part in short term missions trips, primarily to third world countries. This past summer alone, we've sent out groups to Africa, China, Viet Nam, Cambodia, Nepal, Nicaragua and more. We take seriously Jesus command to "go into all the world" preaching the gospel, sharing the love of Christ in tangible ways, whether by building water wells or creating jobs to divert young women away from prostitution. I believe these to be important efforts and that God wants us to continue.

My concern is, that we often romanticize and emphasize these journeys too much, and ascribe too little value to the mission field outside our own back doors. Frankly, in many ways, going to a third world country and interacting with the people there for a couple weeks is a lot easier than living out our faith day by day in our own spheres of influence with the people we see everyday and who may fray our nerves with regularity.

I serve in a ministry geared toward mostly 20-somethings: some students, some young professionals and some still trying to figure out which direction they're headed. Many of them grew up in the church and have had a lifetime to grow in their faith. Others are new to the idea of Christianity as a living, breathing way of life. Some aren't sure what they believe but are just looking for a place they can fit in. All are on the cusp of life as full fledged adults, making decisions that will impact the course their lives will take from here on. And, by virtue of the fact that they are showing up, I believe all are looking for a deeper understanding of God and a sense that their lives have meaning and value.

I've grown in relationship with some of these kids and have come to love them so much. I have been astonished by the things they've overcome, how they persevere, how they endure through great difficulty and how they maintain their focus, with little bitterness or anger, though they have every reason to exhibit both. They don't always fit in. There families aren't the Huxtables or the Cleavers. Sometimes they laugh too loud and try too hard. Sometimes their feelings are hurt too easily. They can't take a joke. Often, they don't ask for help when they desperately need it because they've learned that they cannot depend on anyone when the going gets tough, or they don't want to have someone give up on them because they're asking for too much. So they stay on the fringes, outsiders, surrounded by the insiders.

They are the invisible, the unacknowledged, the unforgiven, the overlooked, the misunderstood, in our midst. They are the walking wounded, the ones who get on our nerves and who bring us to the end of our proverbial ropes. They are the messy ones that we, who pretend to have it all together, don't want to deal with. So we wash our hands and say, they aren't like us, they're "too much," they don't fit in. We don't really want to be bothered. We have our circles and these square pegs just don't fit in them. Let someone else reach out...we're done.

Tragically, we don't know the whole story. We haven't time to find out the gory details. We do not know. The brokenness beneath the showy veneer; the loneliness behind the too loud laugh; the longing to belong when others flock together; the desperate desire to believe that someone loves them despite their brokenness, despite their all too visible flaws. We don't know because we can't be bothered. We're too busy and we don't have an affinity for them. We're sorry, but, we're done.

Short term missions trips are important. They're useful and worthwhile and have eternal value. I will not dispute that. I honor those who go and serve, often at great personal sacrifices of time and money to do so. What I'm trying to say, is this: I wish we'd be equally committed to our long term missions. Our neighbors. The folks who don't fit in. The people we have difficulty relating to. The ones we not only aren't loving , but the ones we don't even feign liking. What about them? The same Jesus who said "go into all the world" didn't just mean the down and out in third world countries. In fact, according to my bible, Jesus spent his first three decades at home, honing the art of sharing the good news, right in his own back yard by living among them, serving in his own little town. Could that be a model for us all? Doesn't it make sense that maybe we should learn to love the people at home first? Be compassionate with our neighbors? Our families? The person sitting next to you at church? Then, perhaps it's time to go beyond our borders-consider the rest of the world.

Isn't it time? I'm just ...sayin'

And yet, our hearts are broken. Still.

It was Father's Day 2009 and we'd just returned from the beach. I'd gone with my dear friends Rick and Patricia and we stayed at a beach cottage owned by Rick's brother and sister-in-law (and my old friends, Chris and Jacquie). We came home prepared to celebrate Father's Day with a family gathering just on the outskirts of Annapolis.

It was a wonderful day...Chris and Jacquie came with their oldest, Zach. Daughter Olivia hadn't felt well so she stayed home. But, I had opportunity to sit and talk at length with both Chris and Jacquie. So many sweet memories...I'd known Jacquie prior to their wedding and got to know Chris shortly before. Since that time, they had two gorgeous kids, Zach and Olivia, who were both growing and entering their teen years. I'd enjoyed letters and Christmas photos every year.

The day the moving truck came to pack up Amanda & my home in Maryland for the move back to California, (18 years ago) Chris and Jacquie were the ones who showed up with breakfast from McDonald's which we sat in our empty living room and ate together. We talked then about what God was doing in our lives. Their first adoption had just fallen through and they were broken hearted, but they still showed up to wish us well. I told them I believed that God would send them another baby who would be perfect for them, in God's time, and that I knew He would heal their aching hearts and fill their empty arms.

They sent birth announcements when they were blessed with Zach and later with Olivia. Life was good. They built a beautiful home on the water outside of Annapolis. Chris was a well known entrepreneur and had a very successful career. They were active in their church, serving God and reflecting light in their community. God had blessed them.

When we sat down on Father's Day we caught up again...we sat on Rick and Pat's porch and cracked open Maryland Crabs, drank cold beer and reminisced about times gone by. Chris talked to me about a marketing position he was trying to fill and a triathalon he was training for. He was fit, and strong and handsome. He and Jaquie were the picture of God's blessing poured out. Zach came out and visited with me while I cooked peaches on the barbeque for dessert. I shared with him how we all had prayed for his arrival and how excited we all had been when he arrived.

It was a lovely day. And, it was the last time I would ever see Chris, this side of heaven.

On July 24, I had walked to the bank with my granddaughter Ruby in her stroller. My phone rang just after we'd begun to walk home. I recognized Patricia's number and eagerly answered the ring. She'd gone to the beach with Chris and Jacquie and the kids. That morning, Chris, Jacquie and Pat had walked down to the water, the kids still sleeping. They parted ways when Chris went surfing, and the gals went to get some exercise.

There was an accident. Chris was surfing and then, he wasn't. He was pulled of the water and then airlifted to Baltimore. An aneurysm was suspected. Pat was left with the children, to wait and pray.
I dropped to the curb, overcome with fear and grief. How could this be? I got on the phone and called people I knew would pray and put him on the prayer list. I began the walk home, completely overwhelmed, tears streaming down my face. And if ever in life I prayed without ceasing, it was the next 24 hours.

The next morning, Chris took his final breath on earth and his first in his heavenly home. The sorrow was wretched, intense and unfathomable. My heart was as heavy as it's ever been. I kept thinking- these are children who really need their dad...they are at a critical point in their lives...Jacquie is a woman who really needs a husband, she'd endured enough hurts growing up and needed the security of her family intact.

I could not understand. Only a month earlier I'd stayed in their little beach cottage, ate crabs and shared memories with them. He was in the shape of his life, happy, enthusiastic and hopeful about the future, grateful for his blessings. Life was good. He had everything to live for.

I wrote in my journal, "Lord! He loved and served you. How is your will served by this? How can this be good? My heart is breaking for them. It is devastating on a level beyond losing my own Dad...He'd had a long life, an illness, time to say good bye, see his children grown, know his grandchildren and so much more...Chris didn't get to finish the life he'd planned. There were no good byes spoken. He was taken so quickly, so unexpectedly and I am struggling to make sense of it. Help us Lord to bear the sorrow that is so oppressive. Oh God. Help us to receive it and to glorify You in the midst of it, even when we cannot wrap our brains around it."

Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His saints. -Psalms 116:15
And yet--our hearts are broken.

I have great sorrow and unceasing anguish in my heart. -Romans 9:2

In my anguish, I cried to the Lord. -Psalms 118:5

And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes; there will be no more death, nor sorrow, nor crying and there shall be no more pain, for the former things have passed away. -Revelation 21:4

The spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me, because the Lord has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to bind up the broken hearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for prisoners...to comfort all who mourn...to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning and a spirit of praise instead of despair. -Isaiah 61:1-3

My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death. -Jesus, Mark 14:34

Memorial services were help on June 30th. It would have been Chris' 49th birthday. Then reality began to set in. Now a year has passed. This weekend, Jacquie and her children, along with Patricia, are at that little beach cottage. It has been a long hard year for all of them. They are all learning to live without Chris, and that is no easy task. The work of grieving is not simple, nor is it swift. Declarations of trust in the promises of God have no doubt been given and revoked many times in the last twelve months. The finality of Chris' departure is still more than we can take in.

A whole year--and yet, there isn't much more understanding today than there was then. The shock of it is still breathtaking. It is still incomprehensible. I still cannot see the good in it. But, God has reminded me repeatedly that His ways are higher than ours, and that if He were small enough for me to understand, He might not be big enough to take care of us. I have been challenged to believe, even when I cannot understand.

I was reminded that decades ago, Chris was given a second chance at life. While crewing on a boat with two other friends, it took on water and sunk in the Atlantic. For several days, they were lost at sea, sharks circling and prospects of rescue were bleak until a worker on an Exxon Freighter spotted their tiny raft adrift in the distance. They were rescued and Chris came to know Jesus as Savior and Lord as a result of that experience.

He was given close to three decades more to live. Time to serve God and His people. Time to marry the woman he loved. Time to be a father to Zach and Olivia. Time to share his faith and the reason for his hope. He was living on bonus time. But, a year ago today, that time ran out, and for reasons we still can't comprehend, Jesus called him home. He had time. Not enough in our view, but exactly what was needed in God's.

It's enough to bring me to me knees. Which, I guess, is exactly where God wants me. This is where the rubber meets the road. So, here I am, on my knees, crying out, declaring my sorrow and confessing I still don't understand. Even so, I still believe. Even in the darkness. God is good, all the time. And for that, I am grateful.

Poppa, I miss you more than anyone knows.

Two years ago today, my sweet Dad passed over from this life to his heavenly home. Today, I drove by our childhood home and saw the house we lived in, the flower beds he so lovingly tended and the sawed off pole from which an American flag once flew daily. When I came home, my eyes filled with tears, seeing that my husband had our flag flying in Dad's memory outside our home.

When he died, I, along with my siblings, spoke at the celebration of his life. I wrote the obituary and then the handout for the services. Since then, I've not been able to write anything further about him. When I try, I am overcome with emotion and sorrow, but not regret. He knew how much I loved him. I told him often. And so, today, I share what I wrote then. Someday I will be strong enough to share more about who he was and the reasons he means so much to me. But for now, this will have to suffice.

Raymond William Matthis

December 6, 1925-June 20, 2008

Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His saints. Psalm 116:15

A Tribute to My Hero

We gather today to honor Ray, a man who need not be esteemed in death more highly than he was in life. His life was an example to all who knew him. Galatians 5:22 says, "The fruit of the spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control." These traits, or as the bible calls them, "fruit of the spirit" could easily be used to describe the man we honor here today; beloved husband, father, "Poppa", brother, uncle, neighbor and friend. His unconditional love for those of us who were fortunate enough to know and love him, and know with certainty how much he loved us, was unwavering. His generosity was unparalleled. We are quite certain that we will never know all the good deeds he did, all the checks he wrote for someone less fortunate, the pies he baked, the errands he ran, the help he offered, the quiet acts of service, the many kindnesses he extended. He was not perfect. On rare occasions he was grumpy and short tempered, but, his character was steadfast. He was quick to say "I love you" and just as quick to say, "I'm sorry" when he was wrong. His heart was soft as butter...tears sprang to his eyes easily and pride in those he loved was enormous. He was easily touched by simple acts of kindness and his wobbly chin was well known to his family and those closest to him. He was a strong, manly man with a work ethic rarely seen in our world today, but, he was also gentle and not afraid to be silly and to laugh with glee. He loved babies and roses and wood working and his tomatoes. But--most of all, he loved his family and all of us who are gathered here today to love him right back. He was faithful to his commitments, to his family, his church and his friends. If he made a promise, he kept it. He touched others deeply, whether the people he sat with at church or his favorite waitress, Angela, at the Early Bird Cafe. He had faith and he knew where his next stop would be. If he could speak to us today, he'd tell you "it's all true!" and he'd tell us to meet him on the other side. Because, just as you loved him, he loved you, too. "The gift of God is eternal life." Say yes to the gift. Be there. He'll be there to welcome you just inside the gate.

With These Hands

In late June of 2008, my beloved Father-In-Law died unexpectedly. He, at nearly 92, while trying to aid someone in need, fell and broke his hip. He later had surgery and died several days later. I believe that he died as he lived, serving others and giving his all with no thought of whether it was prudent or not. He was entirely focused on serving others along the way.


We got the call in the middle of the night that he was in respiratory failure. By the time we reached the hospital, he was gone from this world and in the presence of Jesus. We, my husband Mike, his sister Christine and I went to break the news to my Mother-In-Law, Edith at her home. When we told the caregivers there that Mike was gone, many of them burst into tears of shock and sorrow. He had been a vibrant, active man, and that he was gone was beyond comprehension to those who had so lovingly cared for him. The outopouring of love and compassion was a testimony to the impact he had on so many.


The family had lost their patriarch, a husband, a father, a grandfather and a friend. There were services to plan, legalities to be attended to, a house to sell , financial considerations to be made and Edith to be cared for and comforted. All of that threatened to overwhelm us even months later. The sorrow was still new, the wounds still fresh. We are still learning to live on earth without his presence. He is sorely missed and still in our thoughts daily.

Mike was a strong man with an infectious smile, a twinkle in his eye and enormous hands. With those hands, he spent his life serving others. He provided for his family by working whatever jobs necessary to be certain that their needs were met. He worked in a glass factory, enlisted not once, but twice, in the military during war time and traveled the world as a result. He delivered milk at the crack of dawn on the icy roads of Pennsylvania and, later, dry cleaning, on the freeways of Southern California. He once had a failed business venture with his brother, but, bounced back by creating opportunities where there weren't any to be found. He ended his full time work life selling furniture at Sears until he retired and took on a new, self-made career, that of a handyman. His focus was never on personal satisfactin but instead on doing whatever it took to provide for his family.


He worked for years into his retirement, hanging doors, painting walls, installing windows and putting up wall paper--you name it, he did it, Some jobs he got compensated for and others he just did to help someone who needed a hand. For many years, he went to the home of a sick friend to cut his hair. He also served in his church, ushering on Sunday mornings and taking care of the social hall, cleaning and even providing music for special events. He regularly gave of himself with acts of service and kindness. He was known as one who could be relied upon.


He loved music and passed that love on to his four children; Mike, Dan, Gene and Christine. In his latter years, he raved about his Bose CD player and spent hours enjoying music and sharing it with anyone else he could convince to listen. He made me tapes of music he thought I'd enjoy as a way of thanking me for small favors. Music and dancing were life long pleasures for he and Edith. They met at a dance and through the years, many a family gathering ended with the two of them dancing in the living room to favorite tunes as we all looked on with delight.

He, along with his precious Edith, raised four children who in turn produced nine grandchildren and, to date, five great grandchildren. The two of them worked together through good times and bad, to build a legacy. Our family endures today largely because of the sacrifices they made, the generosity of heart they lived out and the wisdom they shared. Together they modeled faith and faithfulness, kindness and compassion and finally, perseverance. That is Mike's lasting inheritance to all who knew and loved him. He was somewhat obsessed with leaving an inheritance to his wife and children when he was gone, and he accomplished that, but the inheritance was not merely financial. What he taught us and modeled for us is the inheritance that will endure for eternity.


With his hands, Mike served us, blessed us and built a home, a family and a life well lived. Now, his hand seems small, placed in the bigger hand of his loving, heavenly father, in his eternal home. We've received our inheritance and he has his.

Two Fathers: Two Blessings: Both Gone from us

The current Patriarch and his Mrs. 

Father's Day.  Both the husband and I mourn today the loss of the faithful men who brought us into the world, shaped us, loved us and proved to be the most enduring example of Godliness we know. Both worked hard and without complaint to provide for their families, honored their commitments and sacrificed for the good of others, most notably, us.
We are most blessed to have had fathers we dearly miss and whom we look forward to seeing again, on the other side, at the Eastern Gate. Michael Mandish, gone now 6 years and Raymond William Matthis, gone 5. We miss you both more than we can express. 

This day is a now a day of tender remembrances of you, our dear fathers. We are thankful for the impact you've had on us and on all your descendants. What a legacy you left.   We are blessed.  
And-Grateful.