Laura Crosby

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Voices

November 29, 2013 /

It’s the day after Thanksgiving and if you are reading this, chances are you’ve resisted the urge to rise before dawn and scrape and claw through Walmart for the “best deals of the season”. (#walmartfights is trending on Twitter.)

You’ve said “no” to Black Friday, or perhaps you’re still just in a turkey coma and are calling it “contemplation”.  You’re reflecting on yesterday, or you still may be with family navigating dysfunctional dynamics feeling as tense as Jack Bauer defusing a bomb with 3 seconds left.

You may be with family members whose voices can strengthen you, reminding you of your inestimable value (like my mom, and basically everyone I’m related to does), or stab you in the back like the Red Wedding on Game of Thrones.

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Last week I wrote about the power of words and the Word as we move into the holidays when there’s more emotion, more stress, more people, more…family.  So today, on Fearless Friday I thought I’d just post this video that’s a reminder of Whose voice is the most important to hear from.

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The Simpsons, the Cleavers, the Holidays, and the Bible

November 26, 2013 /

John likes to say he grew up in the Simpson family and I grew up in the Cleaver family.  For those of you born before this century that’s the Leave-it-to-Beaver-all-american-solve-the-oh-so-dramatic-problem-of-someone-telling-a-white-lie-in-30-minutes-and-live-happily-ever-after-TV-family-of-the-1960’s.DSC00619

I share that only because we’re coming up on Thanksgiving and Christmas and every holiday that involves families gathering together.

Some of us have dreams that look like this:

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But reality can often look like this:

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And as wonderful as my family is, and as much as I’d like to think they’re perfect, I’m resigned to face the truth that there is no such thing as a fully functional family.  We live in a broken world and we’re a broken people – dysfunctional in some way, every one of us.

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Dark Days

November 25, 2013 /

This is my view as I write at 5:45 a.m.

photo-66Trouble is I’d have much the same view at 7 a.m., or 4:30 p.m.  It’s just that time of year when everything goes frozen and dark and silent.  It’s a living picture of Advent – that time of waiting in darkness for the Light of the World to appear.

As I write I’m wondering how many people reading this feel like they’re waiting for something.  Longing.  And how many feel like they are in a time of deep darkness when they can’t see anything that makes sense.  Fuzzy outlines, but nothing sure.

Darkness and longing.

Ever heard of night blindness?  

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The Words that Matter

November 22, 2013 /

Our friend Sharon always reminds us “Words matter!”

The truthful, timely word, the encouraging word, the destructive one.  They are all composing the story of our life.

Like a mess of Christmas lights though, we often get tangled up in the fearful words.  The “not enough”, “failing grade”, “grim prognosis”, “overwhelming odds” words. Continue reading

Missing Church?

November 20, 2013 /

Mark Batterson recently tweeted: One of my driving motivations as a pastor is this – do people actually MISS church when they MISS church?

A couple of weeks ago on Sunday I was away from home.  We knew there was going to be an opening worship service for the conference we were at so no morning worship was planned.  But then some folks got together and said, “There’s just something about the Body gathered for Sunday morning worship that seems…holy…honoring…right. Like we’re missing something without it.”

They weren’t being legalistic, but they decided to put together a Sunday morning time of worship for anyone who wanted to come.  Lazily I almost didn’t go, but at the last minute slipped into the back and was treated to voices from every continent raised together in praise, a corporate exercise in adoration using the Psalms, and a simple Bible message.  Reminders all of the love of Jesus and the power of the Body joined in community.

This discipline of gathering as the church, weekly, has been something I’ve been pondering a lot recently. Continue reading

Thanksgiving

November 18, 2013 /

Fall in Minnesota is like Mardi Gras.

Actually I don’t know that for sure because I’ve never been to Mardi Gras, but Fall is a huge event.  A blazing last hurrah before THE DEPRIVATION of light and color and warmth for a long, long, time.  Sounds like Mardi Gras to me.

When we left Minneapolis two weeks ago for Africa, the firey autumnal luster was fading but leaves were valiantly clinging to branches, reluctant to give up the fight and die for the long, long, long frozen season of dark.

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Spoiler alert: they failed in their efforts.

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Now, we return to the black crooked limbs silhouetted against a gray November sky.  The leaves have lost the battle and lay cold on the ground. Twinkle lights try to replace the glow of harvest color and there’s a tug-o-war going on between those who want to start the Christmas carols now and those who don’t want to leap over Thanksgiving straight to the 24 hour holiday sales of the day after. Continue reading

Two Memoirs

November 15, 2013 /

We got home from two weeks in Africa yesterday afternoon and are trying to stay awake and get back into a work-day rhythm.  John and I keep looking at each other and saying “What time is it?  What day is it?”  The good news is that with about 159 hours of flight time, there was lots of opportunity to get books read (even for a slug-slow reader like me).

Among the titles I tackled were two fantastic memoirs I’d highly recommend!  When we Were on Fire by Addie Zierman, and Table in the Darkness by Lee Wolfe Blum. Continue reading

Do You See This Woman?

November 13, 2013 /

There’s a rooster crowing over and over in the distance, and the trill of another bird I don’t know. Giant storks roam in the field. The smoky aroma of cook fires and bright tropical flowers in a brighter hot sun surprise my senses.  Mt. Kilamanjaro wreathed in clouds is in the distance.  Dark, friendly faces greet me.

“Toto, we’re not in Kansas anymore.” (or Minnesota).

Tanzania.  The surroundings are unfamiliar.  Different. But God is here and remains the same.

And His Word remains the same too, but I don’t.  He seems to show up as a tour guide, pointing out unseen treasures especially in new places.

There is a passage I’ve been reading every day while I’ve been traveling, praying, “Lord what do You have to say to me?” (and yes, that’s a smudge of coffee and chocolate in the picture :))

Luke 7:37-47. The Message translation.  The story of the “harlot” who comes to a “Pharisee’s” house where Jesus is visiting, anointing Him with expensive perfume and her tears.  The indignant Pharisee is schooled by Jesus who calls her “impressive” and points out that those who have a lot to be forgiven, will have a lot to be thankful for.

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Heavy Lifting

November 9, 2013 /

I nod, sleepy, trying not to doze as I look out on a pool of black, inquisitive faces patiently waiting, waiting, for things to start as they bake in the hot sun

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I hear mamas caring for babies out back.

DSC00525Someone is pumping water from the new well to the right of where I sit.

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I feel a drop of sweat meander down my back even though I have a seat of honor in the shaded porch of the school.

I watch the children, trying to focus on each individual child’s face instead of the nameless group.  I notice the musical instruments these Zambian kids have fashioned out of bottle caps, wood, string, and cardboard.

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It’s hot and I’m nodding, nodding.  The faces blur as in slow-mo my eyes close and then I jerk awake, lifting my head again.  It’s the story of my life.  Striving to pay attention. To not miss the God-moments. Continue reading

How You are Part of Her Story

November 7, 2013 /

Last night we arrived at our destination on the Zambezi river in Zambia in time to see this sunset while zebras grazed behind us.

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This afternoon as I write this I am sitting under an umbrella on the same deck, looking at a herd (a pod? a bunch? John and I can’t decide and we don’t have internet access to Google it) of Hippos in the water about a hundred yards out.  Every once in awhile (of course never when my camera is trained on them) one will lift his head high, open his mouth and roar.  How crazy is that??!!

Quite a contrast to our day yesterday when we bumped and lurched for hours in a Land Rover over narrow dusty paths through the bush in an area called Moyo.  Over tracks not made for vehicles, but worn through the grass instead by the toughened bare feet of our sponsored children, cared for by World Vision.  We had the privilege of visiting all three of our precious kids for the second time in two and a half years yesterday. Continue reading

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