Tag: God

What do you want?

On By sashakatzIn FemmeFuel by Sasha Katz1 Comment

When I look at the moon and the stars twinkling above, the tiny lights remind me that He is near.  There is no space between us.  When I look at the sun’s rays beaming through clouds in the morning, the streams of light speak of His power.  His hands are able to move all things in the direction of His will.  When I see still water reflecting the skies, I think of His peace.  He is never impatient and always on time.  Sometimes when I breathe, I see that He is right there giving me air.  He is our life line.

I don’t think that there is anything we want more than to be in His presence.  To be in His vicinity.  To be in close quarters with a God who never gives up.  Who is always working on our behalf.  Who, out of His own love, brings us deeper into a love affair.  A love affair with a God who is a Savior.  Who holds Eternity.  And, who, at the same time, holds our hands.  He is very, very big, but His love travels down to the smallest parts of our person.

He sees in our hearts the potential of what we can be.  Each and every day.  In each and every moment.  He doesn’t act in light of our humanness, but in light of His godliness.  He doesn’t act in light of left turns or rebellions.  He acts in light of who we are capable of being through His love.  He doesn’t act in light of our weaknesses, but in light of who He knows we can be when we are standing with Him.  He doesn’t act in light of us, but in light of Him. 

If you are able, slow down to the stillest, quietest place you can walk your mind to.  In that silent place, where color radiates in iridescent white.  Where a walk beside pure waters feels like a good journeys end, but does not end.  Where time has become a feeling a timelessness.  Slow down to that place and walk with Him.  And, once you have walked for awhile, ask Him what He wants for you. 

FF2 Aug 29

The Greatest Love Stories

On By sashakatzIn FemmeFuel by Sasha Katz, Love1 Comment

By Sasha Katz

A few weeks ago, I was walking over the bridge looking at the reflection of the morning sky in the canal. In my heart, I thought about the moment God made the creative decision to put reflection on the face of the water. My thoughts about His motivations caused love to overflow in my heart. Creation is the expression of His love. I am water-logged with thoughts about the expressions of His love through creation.

For a long, long time, I have been in love with the romance and depth between Ruth and Boaz. I shut my eyes and think of what it was like for Boaz to wake up with Ruth on the surface below him. Where she was waiting for him to see her. To accept her marriage proposal. In the blue glow of midnight. I think about the months before as she walked Boaz’s fields collecting barley. Under his promise that she would be safe in his meadows. Their love story began in fields where Boaz first noticed Ruth. I have to think that the fields brought out the golden amber in her skin. I have to think that she glanced at him through the waving field that was the distance between them. I think about their love in light of blue of night and amber of day. We express our love in the midst of His creation.

Ten years ago I read Donald Miller‘s Searching for God Knows What. There is this mind blowing chapter that envisions Adam and Eve’s love story. He suggests that Adam was a sort of lonely naturalist naming and categorizing the planet’s animals for about 100 years before he met Eve. All that time, Adam did not find someone like him that he could connect with. When Adam finally sees Eve for the first time, Miller describes that Adam was seeing a person who was like him, only more beautiful, and smarter than him in the ways of relationships. He must have thought to himself that she was perfect, and after a few days of just talking and getting to know each other, they must have fallen deeply in love. This is all among God’s creation. They fell in love in the midst of His creation.

Driving one afternoon, I listened to Dr. Bob Barnes and his guest ponder woman as night and man as day. It’s a deep thought that just like the Spirit hovered over the waters and carved out darkness and light, He carved out of His image woman and man. Just as he named the light and darkness to complete the first day, He created Adam and Eve to make something really good together. Something complete. Out of His creativity and love.

Miller says that sometime after Adam and Eve fell deeply in love, he must have gone on a long walk with God and thanked him. When Boaz expresses his love to Ruth for the first time, he called her blessed of God. That’s a kind vertical and horizontal gratitude. When I look at the sky’s reflection in the water, I am humbled and inspired and amazed and entirely grateful for the expression of His love in creation.

sunflower

Thank you to Tony Gill for Sunflowers at Arne.
I am also inspired by photographs of captured moments of pure love

Birth, Death & Father’s Day

On By sashakatzIn FemmeFuel by Sasha KatzLeave a comment

I remember years ago asking my dad what his favorite verse was. He was approaching his birthday and I wanted to do something crafty for him. The craft really doesn’t matter at all because it didn’t come out that good. I think I tried to embroider the verse on a pillow with a beads. But, I remember what his favorite verse was at that time in his life. He will never leave you or forsake you. Deuteronomy 31:6

At the time of his birthday (I think it was 54 or 56), I had not even taken in the idea that my dad would only have a few birthdays left. He was already sick with cancer at that time, but idea of him getting sick enough to die and God allowing that did become part of my mind’s possibilities. I have been thinking about my dad a lot the last month. Probably because I was his father’s day gift many moons ago. My birth, his death and Father’s Day loom around in my mind in the month of June.

This month, I have been telling my kids some of my thoughts and remembrances so their memories have my dad in them. I think about what life would be like if he was still here. I text my brother who senses his loss almost daily even years later. But not for one minute, not for one second do I question God’s calling on my dad’s life or God’s choice to end his earthly time line at 59 years old. This is the faith that my dad’s walk to heaven has brought me to.

In my dad’s time of weakness where God was allowing him to feel pain. Allowing him to know the brevity of life. Allowing him to realize life was going to end differently than his expectations. Eventually allowing him to wrap up his affairs, say goodbye. Allowing him to prepare to see God face to face. All of that time, my dad said that God showed him that He will never leave me or forsake me. My dad walked home to the Lord like the warrior He was in his life time and like the humble man God taught him to be in his life time. It is in our utmost weakness that God sews in His great love, great strength and His true to the end promise that He will never leave you or forsake you.

Never Leave You

Thank you to Jennifer Dukes Lee for sharing her Ten Life-Changing Truths to Believe Today.

God, Disney World, and Unanswered Prayer

On By badaimathewIn FemmeFeatures by Bindu Adai-Mathew, FemmeFuel by Bindu Adai-MathewLeave a comment

By Bindu Adai Mathew

Every year my company rewards its employees with a two night stay at 5 Star hotel and two tickets to any of the Universal or Disney Parks in Orlando. It’s one of my favorite company perks and always a good time to celebrate and relax. This past year’s trip was no exception. It was November, and November is typically a time in Florida where you can finally brag about living in Florida. After a rainy, hot, humid summer that often stretches well into mid-October, November is a reminder of why we all live here. The temperatures drop to the upper 70s and low 80s… the sunny is shining brightly… cool island breezes… aaaahhh… yes, life is good.

Except that Friday night at the Welcome reception one of my co-workers told me that the forecast was to be cold and rainy. I was aghast! What?! Nooooo! How could that be?! I almost laughed when she said temperatures were supposed to be in the upper 60s and low 70s! Cold?! Ha! I’m from Texas and while it rarely snows there, temperatures are only considered cold when it hits the 40s and 50s.  But rain… yes, that was going to definitely be a bummer since Disney’s Magic Kingdom is basically an outdoor park. Later that night, I told my 4 year old daughter, “Honey, we may not get to go to the park tomorrow because it’s supposed to be stormy and rainy.”  Her face immediately fell. I smiled and patted her hand, “You want to pray to God about it? He can stop the rain.” She nodded her head and together we said a short prayer.

The next morning I woke up to a very wet Saturday. Our hotel concierge advised us that the rain was supposed to let up around mid-morning so we decided to head out for breakfast and then to Disney. But an hour later the rain was still going strong and looked like it wasn’t stopping anytime soon. Disappointed, we decided to save our free passes for another day and drove around Orlando looking for an indoor park. Ava was understandably the most disappointed and turned to me with her sad, puppy dog eyes, “But mommy, we prayed. Why didn’t God stop the rain?”  I shook my head and shrugged. “I don’t know, baby, but when God doesn’t do what we ask, that means He’s going to do something better…” While I believed what I said, I, too, was disappointed that God hadn’t answered our prayers.

In the meantime, we decided to make a pit stop at a luxury theme hotel that we had heard a lot about and we spent the next hour exploring their Florida-themed atrium that resembled Key West, St. Augustine, and the Everglades. Before we left, the hotel concierge advised us that the rain had mostly lifted and that this was probably the best time to visit Disney as the lines wouldn’t be as long. I frowned as I glanced at my watch. Shorter lines, yes, but it was already past 1… I recalled the previous year how a posted 30 minute-wait time at Dumbo ended up being a two hour wait for a 2 minute ride. I sighed as I just knew that with half the day almost gone, we’d probably not be able to go on many of the rides. The previous year, we’d gone on less than half the rides available at the park even though we’d gotten there at 9am and stayed until 10pm. I resigned myself to the situation, trying to remember to be grateful that we were even here.


Eight hours later
We shuffled into our car, exhausted, and collapsed happily into our seats. Although it had been overcast, it had still been a great day. It had only drizzled twice, and only as we were leaving the park did the rain start coming down heavily again. But due to the morning rain, luckily for us, many other people had obviously cancelled their plans to visit the park so even though we only had a half day there, not only had we had a shorter wait time, but in the end, we probably went on more than twice as many rides.

I glanced at Ava, who sat quietly, probably from exhaustion, in her car and seat and stared out the window. “Ava, did you have a good time?”

She turned to me and smiled from ear to ear, “I did, mommy. It was a fun day!”

I recalled the mini kids roller coaster we went on five times, the spinning tea cups we rode on four times, and the countless other rides we never even touched the previous year. I then recalled what I had told her earlier that morning, and I smiled as a small light bulb went off in my head. “Ava, remember how we thought God didn’t answer us when we prayed that the rain would stop? See, if it hadn’t rained all morning, then we would have waited a long time in line and wouldn’t have ridden on all those rides. So it looked like God didn’t answer our prayers, but He did something better than what we had asked!”

I smiled to myself and said an internal thank you for the reminder that we shouldn’t fret when God doesn’t answer our prayers in the exact way we prayed then. We should always trust that He truly wants the best for us.

More than twice the rides in less than half the time. I love how God’s math works.

Hopelessness

On By badaimathewIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

By Bindu Adai Mathew

The torrid rains of April are falling.

A flashflood into my emotionally overwrought soul.

Tears fall from my eyes like overfilled buckets,

Like Noah, I watch as the waters rise above my head.

I choke on the hurt and gasp for air,

But unlike Noah, I see no salvation, drowning in my own despair. 

There is nothing.

No God. No hope. Nothing.

Except more rain.

 

I imagine this is what hopelessness feels like. I imagine that possibly this is what the son of Rick Warren, author of the Purpose Driven Life, felt like before he committed suicide in early April.

Depression isn’t prejudiced like we are. It doesn’t pick and choose based on gender, height, or financial status. It doesn’t care if we are Christian or not…even if we’re the child of a famous pastor…depression hits us all. And it can feel overwhelming. At times our depression is the result of a situation and can be temporary. For some, depression can be clinical and an on-going life struggle.

Most of us are fortunate to rise above the rising waters and find our hope again. And some continue to fight. If you’re fighting depression today, I encourage you to let go of the cloak of shame. Don’t let it prevent you from seeking the help you need, the help you AND your loved ones deserve. Because no matter how hopeless it seems and appears, it is a lie, no matter how real it may seem. With God, we always have hope. And that is something we all need to be reminded of.

 “Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning.”  Psalms 30:5

Love

On By sashakatzIn FemmeFuel by Sasha Katz, LoveLeave a comment

Love is the greatest gift of all.  It is not a song; it is not the month of February.  It is not a box of chocolates – – although it can feel like a very good substitute sometimes.  It is the whispers of the Spirit.  It is the calming of the heart.  It is the promise of rest and joy.  It is the belief that everything will be okay.  And, not on account of your strength or commitment to good.  But, His.

Love, to me, is a God that never sleeps.  A God that never rests.  A God that is always there working my greater good.  A God that knows me.  A God that always delivers me, provides for me.  A God that is so big and so full and so deep that my greatest worry, my greatest burden, is already in His back pocket.

Love is a God that speaks in all seasons.  A God that spends a lifetime helping you to be who you really are.  A God that already knows every word you will speak to Him and already knows every word He will ever speak to you.  A God that holds your freedom in highest regard.  A God that walks you through every tear, every cry, every hard question you post in His direction.

Our God is a God of love.  And as I toil in my work and in my family and in my relationships.  He says to me “Live, my child, while I take care of the rest.”  And, when He says that, my understanding of His love winds deeper and clearer and stronger because I believe Him.

Knowing Him and Him knowing me are the greatest markers of love I will ever know.  And the longer I know Him, the more I know of love.  And the more I know of love, the more I believe I am free to live, and to the fullest.  Without any thought or concern for the outcome.  Because the end is His.  And He is perfect.  To love.

A New Year’s Resolution Resolved!

On By femmefuelIn Best of Bindu Adai-Mathew, FemmeFeatures by Bindu Adai-Mathew, FemmeFuel by Bindu Adai-Mathew, January 20133 Comments

By Bindu Adai Mathew

So one of my previous New Year’s resolutions (I just won’t admit to which year that was!) has been to publish. Well, truthfully, it goes beyond just being a yearly resolution but something I’ve always “dreamed” of doing.

Well, this is the year! My memoir “38 Candles” has been published to Amazon!

http://www.amazon.com/38-Candles-ebook/dp/B00AOY0RNC/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1357043233&sr=8-1&keywords=38+Candles

And I’d like to share the first chapter with you…

Chapter 1:  The Birthday Candles

The flames of 38 candles dance in front of me, flickering and twisting. The happy, smiling faces of my husband and Ava, my one-year old daughter, look on as they eagerly wait for me to make my wish and blow out the candles. I stare mindlessly at the candles, each a marker of a year in my life. So many candles! Are there really 38 candles on that cake? Is it even possible that I have celebrated that many birthdays?

I close my eyes momentarily, silently making my not-so-secret wish, and then breathe in deeply, filling my lungs with air. I manage to blow out all the candles (except a few) as my husband claps. Ava, sensing the excitement, quickly joins in, her tiny hands clapping enthusiastically…and my husband and I both momentarily pause, sharing a look and a smile, as we both marvel at how together we have created such a beautiful, perfect being.

After gorging on the vanilla cake with too much buttercream icing, my husband puts Ava to bed for her afternoon nap while I clean up. As I put the dishes away and wipe down the counter, I gaze at the cake, again troubled by the sheer number of candles on it. It truly seems unfathomable. In a feeble attempt to reassure myself that I have truly celebrated 38 birthdays, as I remove each candle, I quickly attempt to recall what I did for each birthday. Some birthdays 1…2…3…4 are probably forever lost in my childhood subconscious…5 was my first birthday in America, having emigrated from India just a few months earlier. I remember it vividly, probably due to all the pictures taken by my parents. Birthdays 6…7…8…9…10…11 are all a blur, and 12 was my first and only real birthday party with all my friends from school. It was also the year my mom told me that it would be my last birthday celebration. She patted her burgeoning stomach, reminding me that at twelve years old, I was about to be a big sister and far too old now to be having birthday parties…13…14…15…16…17…18 were probably all small family celebrations with a simple homemade birthday cake after dinner…19 was when my college suitemates surprised me with cake and a song at the end of the night after I was convinced they had all forgotten…20 was uneventful as well with nothing more than good wishes from all my friends. My 21st birthday was when my roommate and I watched The Age of Innocence starring Winona Ryder and Daniel Day-Lewis. At that time, it was much more appealing than celebrating it at a bar or a club. I ushered in my 22nd with friends having dinner and planning our life milestones (Meet my future husband at 24, get married by 25, and have kids by 27—I had it all planned!). My 23rd birthday was another evening spent hanging out with friends, followed by a lecture the next day from my dad about the fact that I was getting older and should consider going to India to look for a husband since I wasn’t finding one in the U.S. Birthday number 24 was spent with friends, discussing why Mr. Right still hadn’t shown up in any of our lives and how even my trip to India a few months earlier, which I dubbed as Husband Search #1, had been unsuccessful…25 was spent tweaking my life timeline (Okay, meet my future husband by age 24 26, get married by 25 27, have kids by 27 29.). It was also my first birthday in grad school and I spent it alone…26 was when my grad school friends threw me my first real surprise party…27 was spent with friends again, followed by another talking-to the next day from my dad on how time was running out and I needed to get married ASAP and should consider going to India again….28 was spent with friends, moping about still being single. After another unsuccessful trip to India a few months earlier (Husband Search #2), which almost resulted in marriage (another long story), I came back alone, this time vowing never to go back to India just to look for a husband…29 was spent recovering from another disappointing setup, followed by a cathartic shredding of the paper that detailed the dates I would be married, have kids, etc.,…30 was my amazing trip to Italy as I celebrated the “fabulousness” of my single life. It was my “I don’t need a man” trip…31 was spent busily planning my wedding (I met my husband just four months after my “I don’t need a man” trip to Italy)…32 was my first birthday after marriage where I had a surprise full course breakfast in bed…33 was lunch at Chili’s with hubby…34 was lunch again with just my hubby at Islamorada…35 was my second real surprise party, thrown by my hubby, followed by a weekend trip to Naples, Florida, in an ocean-front suite at the Ritz Carlton…36 was spent in a cozy hotel room overlooking Niagara Falls with subzero temperatures outside…37 was spent recouping at home with my mom and enjoying the birth of Ava just the week before…and now, I was 38!

38.

38…38…38…The numbers echo in my head like the rhythmic chiming of a grandfather clock.

38.

Just twelve years from 50. I cringe inwardly as I also realize that I am now officially closer to 50 than to 25.

The irony of it is that to twenty-somethings and teens, I am “old,” an almost forty-something in their eyes. But to the forty-somethings and older people, I am still relatively young, a summer chicken (as opposed to a spring chicken) with her whole life still in front of her.

As for me, I still look at myself and life through a twenty-something’s eye.

But it’s not the number that haunts me…well, at least not just the number, for it is a reminder—not only of what I’ve done each year of my 38 years – but more important, it is a reminder of what I’ve not done.

I think of the career woman I am not. The career ladder I never quite climbed. The six-figure income that I’m still shy of…and worst of all, that deep sinking feeling that at 38 years old, I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up.

I think of the one argument my husband and I have had over and over again about his desire for me to go back to college to get a different master’s degree, something that I have been determined to put off until I figure out what I am meant to do with my life.

Most of all, I think of the 400-plus-page manuscript stored on my computer hard drive, the one that I finally completed after 10 years of just talking about how I wanted to write a novel. After years of procrastination, a lack of discipline, and countless distractions, I knew the time had come to just do it. So finally, using every spare moment on weekends and evenings, I finally made time to write the novel I had always known I was meant to write, certain I was destined to be on the New York Times bestseller list. I completed it just before Ava was born. But now that same novel, post rejection by several agents, remains untouched on my computer hard drive, on the brink of being shelved and forgotten somewhere in cyberspace.

38.

For the rest of the day and into the night, the number hangs over me like a black cloud. It rings in my head over and over again, like a death knell, reminding me that time is running out.