<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4342007674203953803</id><updated>2011-07-07T15:26:55.465-07:00</updated><category term='Language Influence'/><category term='New Beginnings'/><category term='Firsts'/><category term='Children'/><category term='Vocation'/><title type='text'>Musings by One of God's Scaredy Cats</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oneofgodsscaredycats.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4342007674203953803/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oneofgodsscaredycats.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01068841432012455449</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>5</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4342007674203953803.post-7378189165063735061</id><published>2009-05-30T19:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-31T20:36:13.709-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Children'/><title type='text'>Kid Encounters</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Jesus told us that we must become like children in order to enter the kingdom.  Memories of encounters I've had with children of the congregations I've served bring a smile to my face and warm my heart.  And I better understand what Jesus meant.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;A member of the first church I served shared a memorable story with me about her precious young daughter Caroline. One Sunday afternoon, this young mom found her daughter standing in front of a mirror in their house wearing her bathrobe and holding a Bible. When the mom asked the child what she was doing, she said she was a preacher like Pastor Lynn. My heart was deeply touched, and I thought to myself I would never have imagined myself a preacher when I was playing make-believe as a child. It wasn't something a young girl of my generation would have been able to do! Yet, God had given me the opportunity to influence the life of this young girl and others like her by opening to them new possibilities.  Thanks, Caroline, for helping me understand that I am a role model for young girls who may hear a call to preach God's Word! My mom was right when she told me as a young girl to be mindful of how I lived my life because others would be watching!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;When I arrived at my new church for the first day, the children were in Vacation Bible School. I was being introduced to the children when one young girl spoke up and said, "I don't want a new pastor." Well, you can imagine the horror on the faces of the adults. They quickly began to correct her, but I told them it was okay because she was only being honest.  I walked up to the little girl and told her that if she didn't want a new pastor, it must mean that she loved Pastor George, the pastor who had just retired. I went on to say to her that her love for Pastor George was a good thing because when we love people, our hearts grow bigger and make room for us to love more people. I went on to say I believed her heart was big enough to love Pastor George and maybe someday love me too. She seemed satisfied with my explanation.  Three years later when I was appointed to serve another church, this same child three years older, came to me before I left and said, "I don't want another pastor." She smiled as she said it because she remembered our conversation when I first arrived. We just hugged each other because we both knew and understood that she would surely love again! O Lord, that we adults would risk loving as freely as your little ones!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I believe it was Art Linkletter who said,"Children say the darndest things!"  And he was right, as I learned at one Christmas Eve Service during the Children's Moment.  As I told the children the story of Mary and Joseph being turned away from the inn because there was no room for them there and was about to tell them that Jesus was born in a stable, one little boy beat me to it by blurting out, "Jesus was born in a horse house!"  Now I wasn't sure I had heard him correctly.  I thought to myself, "Did he just say what I think he said?  If he did, what am I going to say in response to that?"   Now in case you're unsure of what I was thinking, just look back at what the child said and imagine what that would sound like coming from the mouth of an excited young child who runs his words together on Christmas Eve, "Jesus was born in a horse house!"  And the congregation saw the surprise on my face and began to laugh.  They knew my discomfort.  And I just said, "Well, a stable could be called a horse house!" And indeed it could.  I just love children, don't you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Unless you change and become like children, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;Matthew 18:  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Copyright 2009  Lynn W. Dimon&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4342007674203953803-7378189165063735061?l=oneofgodsscaredycats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oneofgodsscaredycats.blogspot.com/feeds/7378189165063735061/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://oneofgodsscaredycats.blogspot.com/2009/05/kid-encounters.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4342007674203953803/posts/default/7378189165063735061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4342007674203953803/posts/default/7378189165063735061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oneofgodsscaredycats.blogspot.com/2009/05/kid-encounters.html' title='Kid Encounters'/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01068841432012455449</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4342007674203953803.post-215782884011639773</id><published>2009-05-29T05:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-29T09:47:21.816-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Language Influence'/><title type='text'>Choosing Our Words Wisely</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Isn't it interesting how we can hear an expression time and again, yet one day those very words make a lasting impact on us! This happened to me in my first appointment as a pastor. In an ordinary conversation with my senior pastor, I simply said, "Since I HAVE to preach next Sunday...." The remark was made only in reference to an explanation of why I wouldn't be available to do something else before Sunday. I would be preparing for my message instead. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;My senior pastor said, "You don't HAVE to preach...you GET to preach next Sunday!" I think he may have been enjoying this opportunity to chide his former English teacher associate pastor a little too much! Whatever his intent, though, his words reminded me of the power of language to shape us and others around us. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;He was so right. How carelessly we choose our words sometimes! Since that encounter, I have many times pointed out to my parishioners that worshiping, serving, and studying together are all GET-to's, not HAVE-to's. None of us HAVE to come to worship. We GET to. None of us HAVE to teach a Sunday school class. We GET to. None of us HAVE to study God's Word. We GET to. Yet, what we say too often sends the wrong message, especially to the children and youth whose lives God has entrusted to us.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;So often I've heard adults in the church use HAVE-to language when talking about church, as if church were some awful-tasting medicine the doctor prescribed for us! And we wonder and scratch our heads that so many of our teenagers have the opinion that church is boring or a drudge! They've heard it often enough in the conversations of adult church folks. I fear we may have done a really good job of helping them decide they no longer HAVE to go to church! We haven't done as well helping them realize they GET to go to church! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Copyright 2009 Lynn W. Dimon&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4342007674203953803-215782884011639773?l=oneofgodsscaredycats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oneofgodsscaredycats.blogspot.com/feeds/215782884011639773/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://oneofgodsscaredycats.blogspot.com/2009/05/choosing-our-words-wisely.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4342007674203953803/posts/default/215782884011639773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4342007674203953803/posts/default/215782884011639773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oneofgodsscaredycats.blogspot.com/2009/05/choosing-our-words-wisely.html' title='Choosing Our Words Wisely'/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01068841432012455449</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4342007674203953803.post-7441595399079627076</id><published>2009-05-26T12:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-26T14:42:32.564-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Firsts'/><title type='text'>My First Funeral</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Every pastor has a long list of &lt;em&gt;firsts&lt;/em&gt;. I don't know if all pastors think of them as such, but I have often reflected on my &lt;em&gt;firsts&lt;/em&gt; in ministry--my first appointment, my first sermon, my first pastoral visit, my first wedding, my first baptism, my first funeral, etc. I could write a chapter on each one of these and many others, mainly because I'm a reflective person, but this blog is limited to just one of these, my first funeral. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Members of the first church I served joined with a church of another denomination in the community to form an AIDS Care Team. I participated in this ministry, often visiting our first "friend" and providing pastoral care for him and his family. Our "friend" was a young homosexual man who was in the advanced stages of AIDS when we began caring for him. He died soon after we established our relationship with him. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;His mother was a member of a church of another denomination. Naturally, she wanted her pastor to officiate at her son's funeral, but because I had visited her son and provided pastoral care for him in his final days, she wanted me to participate in the funeral, as well. Her pastor refused to do the funeral with me, though, because I was a woman! And he was right, that is what I am, a woman! No way I could change that to please him, but I could step out of the way. So, I told the mother to let her pastor lead the service and I would be there for her anyway. She said she had rather have me lead the service because I was there for her son in his final days. What I learned later, though, is that her pastor still refused to lead the service. He really didn't want to lead a funeral for a homosexual who had died of AIDS! I just provided him with a good excuse. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Now I digress a little here to confess to you, gentle reader, that I was hoping the other pastor's decision was my out. That I would not be leading this funeral. After all, I had never done a funeral before! I would so rather that my first funeral be for a saint of the church I served. Not for some young man who had died of a scandalous disease! Little did I know at the time that this &lt;em&gt;first &lt;/em&gt;would be just the beginning of many other &lt;em&gt;firsts &lt;/em&gt;to follow that would put this scaredy cat's faith to the test!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Well, I agreed to do the funeral. Since I had never done a funeral before, I went to a number of my clergy colleagues, asking how they would prepare for this funeral. Unfortunately, I became more frightened after speaking with them than less so. It's not supposed to be that way, is it? Call me naive, but I didn't know that I needed courage to do what I was about to do until I spoke with my colleagues! Neither did I know until then that clergy have such different understandings of a funeral's purpose. And sadly, I didn't know until then that some clergy would have refused to lead the funeral service for this young homosexual man whose death was caused by AIDS. I learned through this experience that the learning curve for this scaredy cat preacher was looking pretty steep! I was surely learning some things I'd rather not know. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;One thing I learned through this &lt;em&gt;first &lt;/em&gt;is that I felt more kinship with this young man than I did with the mother's pastor who refused to do this funeral, no matter what his real reason was, or with some of my own colleagues in the ministry who feel that the purpose of a funeral is to judge the deceased person's life. The young man and I both were scandalous spectacles in the eyes of some, he because of his homosexuality and I because of my gender. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I pray that this scaredy cat preacher is a little wiser because of the experience described here. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;God, be merciful to me, a sinner!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Luke 18:13&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Copyright 2009 Lynn W. Dimon&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4342007674203953803-7441595399079627076?l=oneofgodsscaredycats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oneofgodsscaredycats.blogspot.com/feeds/7441595399079627076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://oneofgodsscaredycats.blogspot.com/2009/05/my-first-funeral.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4342007674203953803/posts/default/7441595399079627076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4342007674203953803/posts/default/7441595399079627076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oneofgodsscaredycats.blogspot.com/2009/05/my-first-funeral.html' title='My First Funeral'/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01068841432012455449</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4342007674203953803.post-8134626701485382969</id><published>2009-05-25T06:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-25T19:08:44.275-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='New Beginnings'/><title type='text'>Starting Over</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;The year 1996 brought a series of new beginnings for my family and me. I graduated from Emory University's Candler School of Theology with an MDiv and was appointed to serve as Associate Pastor in a 15-year-old congregation in southeast Huntsville, AL. My son would be entering his senior year at Grissom High School, my husband would be looking for a job again because he had chosen to follow an unconventional path in support of my call to full-time minstry, and I would be starting my journey as a United Methodist pastor. Does that sound like enough &lt;em&gt;newness&lt;/em&gt; to make a 45-year-old woman's knees tremble? It does if she has any sense at all!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knew how to walk into a high school classroom and set the course for the year ahead. I had done it for 20 years. In short, I knew how to be a high school English and Latin teacher! And as a classroom teacher, I was forbidden to pray out loud. Now I was expected to pray out loud! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Just when I should have been preparing for retirement, I was starting all over again! As I remember these new beginnings in my life, I am reminded of a line from one of my favorite poems by Robert Frost, "Two roads diverged in a wood, and I, I chose the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, his mercies never come to an end; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;Lamentations 3: 22-23&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Copyright 2009 Lynn W. Dimon&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4342007674203953803-8134626701485382969?l=oneofgodsscaredycats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oneofgodsscaredycats.blogspot.com/feeds/8134626701485382969/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://oneofgodsscaredycats.blogspot.com/2009/05/starting-over.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4342007674203953803/posts/default/8134626701485382969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4342007674203953803/posts/default/8134626701485382969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oneofgodsscaredycats.blogspot.com/2009/05/starting-over.html' title='Starting Over'/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01068841432012455449</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4342007674203953803.post-3389400490174201879</id><published>2009-05-22T18:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-25T19:15:21.248-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Vocation'/><title type='text'>An Unlikely Choice!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Lord does not see as mortals see...&lt;/em&gt;1 Samuel 16:7&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Why would God call a middle-aged woman from the South, Alabama of all places, to leave one of two culturally-acceptable professions for women, teaching, (at least in my day) and to go back to school to prepare for a new profession, one that is culturally-acceptable for men alone, preaching, (at least in my part of the country)? Especially a woman who has found her niche teaching young people and who has a husband and a young son? A woman who has always played it safe and dared not color outside the lines? Why would God enlist such a scaredy cat to speak God's truth from the pulpit? To speak God's truth requires courage, after all. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;These questions consumed me until 16 years ago in 1993 when I quit my high school teaching job, my husband quit his job, and we sold our home of 18 years, packed our bags and moved to Atlanta with our 13-year-old son so I could attend seminary. I say these questions consumed me &lt;em&gt;until &lt;/em&gt;1993 when I went to seminary, but the truth of the matter is I still marvel at God's designs on me in light of the sheltered, provincial life I had led. Wouldn't God have preferred a bolder, more self-assured young person to preach God's Word? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;So begins the musings of one of God's scaredy cats who answered the call to preach! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;One thing I have learned in the years since 1993 is that I am no less a scaredy cat today than I was then. More importantly, though, is that I have learned that God is faithful to provide all I need wherever God leads me, even courage when courage is what is called for. Thanks be to God!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;My grace is sufficient for you, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;for power is made perfect in weakness. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:85%;"&gt;2 Corinthians 12:9&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Copyright 2009 Lynn W. Dimon&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4342007674203953803-3389400490174201879?l=oneofgodsscaredycats.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oneofgodsscaredycats.blogspot.com/feeds/3389400490174201879/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://oneofgodsscaredycats.blogspot.com/2009/05/why-would-god-call-middle-aged-woman.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4342007674203953803/posts/default/3389400490174201879'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4342007674203953803/posts/default/3389400490174201879'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oneofgodsscaredycats.blogspot.com/2009/05/why-would-god-call-middle-aged-woman.html' title='An Unlikely Choice!'/><author><name>Lynn</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01068841432012455449</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
