I am not a Democrat. I am not a Republican. And I don’t think Jesus would be either. Last night, author Donald Miller gave this benediction at the Democratic National Convention. It moved me so I’m sharing it here.

It moved me because these are the kinds of things I wish Christians were known for — service, love, compassion, care for the poor and disadvantaged — instead of judgment, arrogance and loud, shrill voices with no tolerance for those who are not like us. And, yes, those are the things we are known for, for the most part. If you don’t believe me, read the book unChristian.

Here is an excerpt — i urge you to read the full text here.

… Give us a passion to advance opportunities for the least of these, for widows and orphans, for single moms and children whose fathers have left. Give us the eyes to see them, and the ears to hear them, and hands willing to serve them. Help us serve people, not just causes. And stand up to specific injustices rather than vague notions.

Give those in this room who have power, along with those who will meet next week, the courage to work together to finally provide health care to those who don’t have any, and a living wage so families can thrive rather than struggle.

We have tried to solve these problems ourselves but they are still there. We need your help …

Amen. Thank you, Donald Miller.

I just returned from my yearly mammogram — a milestone: 10 years.

Though I rarely think about cancer, mammogram day still brings the butterflies to my stomach. There is the waiting, the anxiety when the technician comes back for “a couple more views,” the what ifs? that race through my mind and finally, the relief as I receive the all clear message.

The anxious minutes went by quickly as I read email and blogs, updated Twitter, (click this link to follow me) surfed the Internet and listened to Simon & Garfunkel. I’m so grateful for my family and friends — and my group of amazing Twitter geeks, from coast to coast and Canada — who prayed for me.

It does remind me that there are those for whom the news is not encouraging, whose bodies are ravaged by both disease and treatment. Some of whom do not have family and friends and prayer support. So please take a moment to pray for the sick, the dying and the newly-diagnosed persons who are anxious and fearful.

For the word of the Lord is right and true; He is faithful in all he does. Psalm 33:4

For the past few months, I have been thanking God for His provision and His faithfulness as Jim searches for a new job. It has been stressful, scary and has worn on us as a family at times. Even so, I always felt an underlying peace that God would bring us through this and that He would use it, perhaps just to teach us to trust Him more completely.

This past Friday (April 20) Jim signed an offer letter for a new job. We are thrilled and so very thankful. It’s a great opportunity and allows us to stay in Memphis, which we all wanted very much. But make no mistake: I don’t thank Him for His faithfulness because he provided the job; He was faithful before Jim got the job, and He would still be faithful if there were still no job.

When I was growing up, and I’d ask my parents for something I wanted, sometimes (usually) they would say yes and sometimes they would say no. My Dad was a very generous person, so when he said no, there was a reason. I never got the trampoline I begged for because my Dad saw so many kids with broken bones in his orthodontic office who answered trampoline when he asked them how it happened. I wasn’t happy that I didn’t get the trampoline, but I knew that my Dad meant it only for my own good and I never doubted his love for me, or whether he cared or would provide for me. And, even if I think completely materialistically, he gave me nearly everything else I ever wanted. Not only were they faithful, they were generous as well.

I think that’s what I learned about God through all of this — that He doesn’t show Himself faithful by what he does for us — that is His generosity; He shows Himself faithful by walking through it all with us. He never promised us ease, comfort, affluence or freedom from stress, but He did promise He would never leave our side. And if He had, I know that I would not have survived with my sanity intact.

Even on the worst days, during the two-month stretch when there was just nothing to even apply for, I never doubted that He was there and that it would eventually be ok. What if His will had been no job at all — if His will for us meant that we would lose our house, cars, all the stuff? I still would not doubt His faithfulness. Though it would not have been my preference, He brought me to the point that I could be ok with that.

His faithfulness has given me comfort, peace and security, and His generosity has given extra measures of joy — some are short bursts, others are lasting, but all are meaningful. Consider:

• Encouragement from friends — lunches, phone calls and emails
• Friends and family who understood when Christmas was just a hug and a promise of a later gift
• Retail therapy (thanks, Mom!) which cannot buy happiness but sure can lift the spirit.
• Dinners out, as restaurant meals were the first thing cut from our post-employment budget
• A tremendous network of caring, loving, Christian friends who diligently lifted us up in prayer.
• My role at home — I have for a long time felt a call to be home full-time, and my prayer was that I would be able to continue in this role. Not only did God grant me this, He did so with complete peace on my part and Jim’s. Jim never asked me to try to find work, and God continually confirmed my decision, though to some I admit it must have seemed illogical. I’m so glad God doesn’t operate by human logic!

So now we get to return to normal. I wonder what our new normal will look like. I guess time will tell. But for now I’m looking forward to my first professional haircut since November, new glasses and getting the refrigerator fixed so it doesn’t leak all over the kitchen floor.

For the word of the Lord is right and true; He is faithful in all He does.
Psalm 33:4

I promise I did not do this in Photoshop — that gorgeous sky really did look like that. I took this photo in the parking lot of a restaurant somewhere in Arkansas, near Greers Ferry Lake.

Here we are in mid-March and still no job. Back in November, when I first posted about the job situation, (We are OK) I felt confident and sure of God’s faithfulness and care in our need. I knew that He would see us through this crisis and that His plan for us was greater than anything we ever could have imagined.

And I have to admit that I hoped He would accomplish it quickly. I know that given today’s climate in corporate America, our search is relatively short. Layoffs are all too common these days at Jim’s level; in fact one colleague told him that very few executives get through an entire career without at least one layoff, particularly those who work for large public corporations.

So recently I have asked myself this question: I was sure, confident and faithful in November — am I still sure and confident when our prayers haven’t been answered as soon as we would have liked? I was sure when, by earthly standards, we were secure in our nice six-month severance package. Am I still sure when it’s now only a three-month severance package? Do I still trust Him?

The answer is — a qualified yes. Not a qualified yes because I doubt Him, but because I doubt me. Because I still freak out from time to time. When I think of this situation in earthly terms, I am insecure, because here on earth that security is measured in dollars, in my house, my car, my stuff. Stuff that could be gone in the blink of an eye anyway.

But despite my human frailty and weakness, the answer really is, yes, I am still sure, confident and faithful. Because I know that my real security is not in dollars, houses, cars, stuff — thank goodness because, frankly, we don’t have a lot of really great stuff.

My security is in God and His kingdom, and I’m up for whatever challenge He presents me with. Worst case — I lose all the stuff, and it really is just stuff. Just look what I get to keep: beautiful sunsets and sunrises, the love of my family, God’s grace and forgiveness poured out on me anew each day, and a place in eternity with Him. So I’m thinking, yes, I do still trust. What else can I do?