The Mini Cooper service waiting lounge is strategically located right next to the showroom with shiny, new, souped-up 2020 models. My 2016 looks truly mini compared to its new siblings on steroids sporting way more technology, size, bells and whistles than I will ever need. Pretty new colors, too. Tempting.

It’s here that I finished reading the book I originally bought for my dad. Not for him to read – for me to read TO him while he’s in skilled nursing. It’s hard for him to read these days. He used to love reading the paper every morning as well as his Bible and daily devotionals. I find it strange dad doesn’t want to watch or listen to the TV in his room or go to any of the resident activities like singing or bingo. Strange because he spends almost 24/7 in his room and always talks about leaving or being stuck in bed.

One of my absolute favorite activities as an elementary school teacher was reading to my class. Perennial faves were Chronicles of Narnia, Tale of Despereaux, and Charlotte’s Web. So after a rather depressing visit with dad (more because I was depressed), I made a trip to my local Barnes and Noble to find a book dad might enjoy me reading to him. I ventured to several different sections ranging from sports to inspirational to classic novels to children’s literature. Nothing grabbed me. I gave up and headed out passing by numerous best seller displays. Then the last table near the front door caught my eye. Discounted books. I was surprised to see Max Lucado’s name. I enjoyed reading his children’s series to my classes. The title now staring up at me was Traveling Light – The Promise of Psalm 23. Funny since I had been reading that famous Psalm to dad the past few weeks. Perfect! And it was on sale for $7.98. I couldn’t wait to start reading it to dad.

The next day I headed over to dad’s skilled nursing facility with the book and a level of excitement I hadn’t had since he was admitted on July 12th. We would now have wonderful, meaningful visits together instead of the same conversations with me making small talk about the weather and sports. “How ’bout those A’s, dad!” Silence.

To my great disappointment, I didn’t get past Chapter One. Dad was completely uninterested. In fact, my reading seemed to agitate him. In retrospect, I think he didn’t understand why I was reading to him. He wanted to go back to the same conversations as in our previous visits. How’s Natalie? How’s Meagan? When are they getting married?

I left that day feeling defeated and thinking “Good thing the book was on sale.” I got home and put it on our coffee table since the cover was kind of pretty not intending to actually ever read it.

You know where this is going.

The book kept staring at me. Okay, okay, I’ll give it another chance. If I’m being completely honest (hate when people say that), I was in a dark place. My loneliness and depression had hit an all time low that week. Dave was out of town again for business. The weight of my parents’ health situation and handling their finances was coming down hard. The weight of it all. It felt hard to breathe at times. All the papers I’ve signed on their behalf this summer with the words “responsible party” under my name got me thinking the worst. What IF this and what IF that? Historically, I’m really not a worst case scenario type of thinker. I’m not even a long term planner. “Long term” in my mind is registering for a marathon a year in advance to get the early bird discount.

Well, the Cliff notes (do they still make those?) version is that God unraveled Psalm 23 for me through this discount book in a way that addressed just about everything I was carrying around but couldn’t articulate in words. God just knows how to get my attention. It’s like the warning light in my car that came on which prompted me to take it in for service. Too bad people don’t come equipped with warning lights. Or do they? Pretty sure I’ve ignored most of mine this year since I have found myself in almost debilitating conditions with desperate need of roadside assistance.

Ironically, I was afraid to read Chapter 12 “From Panic to Peace – The Burden of Fear.” And then dreading Chapter 13 “Silent Nights and Solitary Days – The Burden of Loneliness.” Those two chapters struck quite a few chords.

“I will fear no evil.”

Psalm 23:4 is not just something you whisper before boarding a plane, public speaking, opening a VISA bill, or hearing a doctor’s diagnosis. It’s a decision to not be afraid and proving it. This picture just flashed before me of that time my sixth grade tribe of four dared each other to start our own Judy Blume Are You There God, It’s Me Margaret club. I was afraid they wouldn’t be my friends if I didn’t join (honestly, I thought the whole thing sounded stupid), but I did it anyway.

The problem with conquering fears – whether it’s pre-teen peer acceptance or my parents outliving their money – is that deciding to eliminate fear is not enough. Imagine if these fears filled a suitcase – sometimes crammed to the point where you have to sit on it to get it fully zipped. Intellectually I know it’s not healthy to carry around all this excess baggage. I’ve emptied my bag – quite often at Jesus’ feet. But what replaced those fears? Or did I just carry around an empty suitcase?

I want these words that follow “I will fear no evil” to fill my suitcase:

“For You are with me.”

Imagine now if that bag is filled with God’s presence in the form of His word, His faithfulness, His grace, His mercy, His comfort, His provision, His healing, His redemption… Somehow everything fits this time without breaking the zipper. Surprisingly, it’s even lighter.

Heading out the door now to catch my flight to Orange County. Running my 16th mother-daughter half marathon with Natalie this weekend followed by a trip to Disneyland. Oh wait, almost forgot to pack this – don’t worry, there’s room:

“The Lord is my shepherd;
I shall not want.
He makes me to lie down in green pastures;
He leads me beside the still waters.
He restores my soul;
He leads me in the paths of righteousness
For His name’s sake.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil;
For You are with me;
Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.

You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies;
You anoint my head with oil;
My cup runs over.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me
All the days of my life;
And I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.”

Psalm 23 NKJV

First smoothie I’ve made since moving to our new apartment four months ago! Why so long? Well, it’s a short lesson in humility really.

The last few years, I’d mastered the art of whipping up the most nutrition packed, blendable ingredients conceivable (and inconceivable) as well as attempts at converting family members to the blended side – unsuccessfully. When we prepared to move this past April, I took great pride in meticulously, Tetris-style packing my beloved Ninja with all its not inexpensive accessories meticulously nestled in the perfect sized moving box, sealed, then labeled accordingly.

We’ve moved like 20+ times in our 31 year marriage, so this move was not my first rodeo. I’d even booked the same moving crew we used when we downsized from the big house in which we raised Natalie and Meagan to an apartment. This 3-man crew was everything you’d want for a three-part complicated move (house, apartment, storage facility). They were super courteous, efficient, diligent, and over-the-top detailed down to bubble wrapping individual light bulbs and screws. Made my OCD heart so happy.

This time around, I was shocked and disappointed to find my precious Ninja box missing upon settling in and unpacking. I immediately called the moving company to have them re-check the truck and inquire with the crew about my missing box. The next day the message was not good. I thanked him for checking and asked that he continue to keep an eye out for me if my box should somehow reappear.

Days and weeks later, I got sad every time I opened the kitchen cabinet gazing upon the empty shelf I’d marked out for my Ninja comrades. Sadness turned to anger as I now imagined some stranger blending smoothies with MY Ninja. How can one possibly enjoy smoothies made with a dishonestly acquired blender? The little angel on my shoulder said “Now, now, maybe it’s a poor working mom who was miraculously given your box by a stranger who just happened to find it, and this mom had been praying for a way to make healthier meals for her family who have all lost their teeth because they couldn’t afford dental care?” Then the little devil on my other shoulder answered back “Don’t be ridiculous! You know they intentionally stole your box on moving day, immediately put it on EBay, and made a killing! If it makes you feel better, picture the thief choking on his next smoothie!” This dialogue went on for like two months.

Last month, Dave was searching for something (can’t remember what) supposedly still unpacked from the move. I insisted everything had been unpacked and put in its proper place. Together we stood there staring at boxes in our apartment garage that I would swear in a court of law that I had already combed through with my eagle eyes.

“What’s in here?” he asked pointing to a perfectly sealed unlabeled box then proceeded to open it. GAH! There it was exactly as I had NOT imagined it! My beloved Ninja set – blender base, nutribullets, processors, attachments, and all.

Today, as I drink my fresh ginger root, kale, beet, pineapple, blueberry, mango, chia seed, coconut smoothie, I do so with my tail tucked between my legs. From this day forward, I dub all my Ninja-made smoothies “Humble Pie.” I mean, “Humble Smoothie.”

Truth be told, many things have humbled me this summer. A few of those have already made the highlight reel in previous blog posts. But unlike the others, this one actually made me laugh. God has a great sense of humor. Blended with abundant grace, mercy, and forgiveness. Dare I say, He is the ultimate Ninja.

‘And he gives grace generously. As the Scriptures say,

“God opposes the proud
but gives grace to the humble.”

So humble yourselves before God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you.’ James 4:6-7 NLT