Blog - Page 77 of 90 - Jodie Berndt

To Know is to Love

05.13.2015

The toughest part about throwing a wedding?

For me, it might be choosing the wine. You’d think that someone who likes the fruit of the vine as much as I do would find this an inspiring job (another tasting? Yes please!), but that’s not the case.

Robbie and I are blessed to have befriended a lot of wine enthusiasts who, over the years, have graciously shared some of their favorites from the cellar. Not wanting these folks to show up on our big day and gag over our offerings, I decided to tap into the wisdom of Proverbs 15:22 (“Plans fail for lack of counsel, but with many advisors they succeed”) and get their input, up front.

Oh my.

The first guy was happy to take my call. Twenty minutes later, I knew more than I ever wanted to about the difference between a Cabernet and a Malbec (which doesn’t seem like much, actually), the “lock” some growers had on different price points, and how Argentina was producing some really good varietals right now. Or maybe it was Australia. I can’t remember. (See?)

The next fella’s reply came via email and was incredibly well organized. Fifteen of his favorites, all listed with accompanying prices, commentary (“People think it is expensive because he was once a ‘cult’ winemaker”) and an assessment of each wine’s “drinkability.” Drinkability? I thought that mostly came down to whether or not you had a glass and corkscrew. (And I’m not really positive about the glass.)

I think my favorite tip came from the wife of one of the connoisseurs, who offered to hook me up with his buyer. I spent about half a second fantasizing about how I could work that relationship into party conversation (“I was cleaning the lint trap on the dryer the other day, and it reminded me of something that my wine buyer said…”), but I knew I couldn’t pull it off. Sensing my growing panic, the wife hung up the phone and then graciously sent me this text: “It’s going to be great no matter what you serve. We’re Episcopalian. We’re happy with anything.”

That’s what I’m talking about!

I know I sound overwhelmed, but I actually loved all the expert feedback, if only because it proved the point that Jen Wilkin makes in her fabulous book, Women of the Word. On the theory that you can’t love what you don’t know, Wilkin’s mission is to help us go after God not just with our hearts but also with our minds.

Right off the bat Wilkins taps into scientific studies done by Yale brainiac Paul Bloom, who specializes in – get this – “pleasure research.” (Talk about a sweet job.) Bloom cites a clear link between knowledge and enjoyment, maintaining that our pleasure in something increases when we learn its “history, origin, and deeper nature.” For Bloom, a ready example is wine: “The key to enjoying wine isn’t just to guzzle a lot of expensive wine,” he says. “It’s to learn about wine.”

Our grape-loving friends would add a hearty amen right there. The more they know, the more they love. (And presumably, the more they drink. But far be it from me to point any fingers. Especially when they invite me to share the love.)

Wilkin takes Bloom’s research and slaps it onto two of her favorite topics: Bible study, and our relationship with God. “Finding greater pleasure in God will not result from pursuing more experiences of him,” she writes, “but from knowing him better.” Instead of making the Bible “all about me” (wisdom for my life, direction for my relationships, comfort for my sorrows), she encourages us to approach it as a book that is “all about Him.” As we get to know God’s character, we can’t help but fall deeper in love…and as a result, we are changed.

I may never be a sommelier (I think those people have to know the difference between Argentina and Australia, for starters), but when it comes to knowing the true vine – the one from John 15, who makes our lives bear fruit – I want to drink deeply of the stuff Wilkin is peddling. I don’t want to just study the Bible; I want to study God – to know him better, to love him more, to let him transform both my heart and my mind.

And as for the wedding wine, well, I can’t worry about that anymore. I figure that the same God who turned water into wine at that wedding in Cana 2000 years ago is still showing up at parties today. Maybe he can make a few tweaks when nobody’s looking.

Friday Prayer for Being Still

05.08.2015

I texted a friend yesterday to ask her to pray for me, since I felt weary. She immediately shot back this promise: “The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still.”

I loved that! Who wouldn’t?

Those simple words changed my perspective and carried me through a jam-packed day with grace and joy. If you find yourself needing a break today – or better still, if you have a friend who could do with turning her battles over to God – why not turn Exodus 14:14 into your own personal prayer?

Heavenly Father, thank you that you know all that I am up against, and you promise to fight for me. Quiet my heart and help me to be still, trusting in your sovereign power and endless love. (Exodus 14:14)

“Wait…What?”

05.06.2015

“Wait…what?”

If you ask Robbie’s three older sisters to cite the quote they’d heard most often during his growing up years, that would probably be it: “Wait…what?”

Maybe in a house full of women, a guy has to learn to hone his selective listening skills, lest he get swept away in the torrent of daily verbiage. And maybe Robbie turned the dial a little to far to the right. It’s not like he was trying to ignore us (at least that’s what we tell ourselves), but golly. If we had a nickel for every time we heard, “Wait…what?” during a dinner table conversation, well. You know.

Sometimes the girls and I would repeat ourselves; sometimes we’d just roll our eyes and say, “Forget it, Robbie.”

Thank goodness God’s not like that.

Reading Jonah’s story the other day, I couldn’t help but think about all the times I would have missed God, had he not been willing to repeat himself. Sometimes it’s my own “Wait…what?” lack of attentiveness that dulls my radar; other times, I deliberately choose not to listen. Like Jonah, I don’t always want to hear God speak – or to obey him, when he does.

I think it was Charles Spurgeon who said, “God never allows his children to sin successfully.” Jonah may have taken a detour when he ran away from God, but his story was far from over. God hadn’t given up on him. After at uncomfortable business with the fish (my Bible says it “vomited Jonah onto dry land,” which had to been fairly awkward for both of them), we read that “the word of Lord came to Jonah a second time.”

A second time.

How good is God?

If you feel like you’ve missed God’s original instruction – be it in a relationship, a business decision, a move, or whatever – don’t let that get you down. He’s the God of second chances. He’s willing to speak a second time…or even a third, it that’s what it takes.

We can run away if we want, but – to paraphrase Spurgeon – it’s only a matter of time until we trip. And that guess who’s gonna help us back on feet and pointed in right direction?

Yep. He’s pretty good.

(And P.S. if you like Jonah pic at accompanies is blog, you love book it: The Jesus Storybook Bible, by written by Sally Lloyd-Jones and that illustrated by Jago. It looks like its for kids, but don’t let the cover fool you. Lloyd-Jones takes the stories you read as a child – Noah, Joseph, Daniel – and shows in every case, they point the way to Jesus. Very cool. Click here if you’d like to buy your own copy!)

Friday Prayer for Your Diet

05.01.2015

Diets are all well and good (particularly if you are Annesley, and your wedding prep consists mostly of mac-n-cheese), and yet everyone has their limits. I recently took a walk with a highly disciplined friend who’s dropping the pounds, but even she faced an emotional crisis when the trainer suggested she cut her daily almond intake from 17 to 9.

Nine almonds? Seriously?

Anyhow, with swimsuit season just around the corner, I thought it might be time to trot out one of my favorite Bible verses. Leviticus 3:16 says, “All the fat belongs to the Lord.” To me, that has the makings of a mighty fine prayer (particularly for those who are just plain tired of counting their almonds):

Heavenly Father, all the fat belongs to you. So does all of the protein, carbs, and the hipster stuff like quinoa and kale. Please give me wisdom and discipline to make wise dietary choices…and grace for the times that I don’t.

Happy Anniversary!

04.29.2015

We’re on the home stretch with Wedding #1, and the advice I hear most often is: Breathe. It will be okay. Things will go wrong, but it’s going to be great.

I’m sure.

I am sure it’s going to be great for two reasons. First, we serve an awesome God, one who is able to do “immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine” (Ephesians 3:20). Annesley and Geoff’s nuptials might not all go according to my plan, but that’s okay. As a wedding planner, God has got “immeasurably more” up his sleeve.

Second, I know it’s gonna be great because, well, this isn’t my first rodeo. Nine years ago today, Robbie and I hosted a wedding reception for my mom, Claire, and her beloved John, a widow and a widower who saw their foxhole friendship blossom into so much more.

Last time these two showed up in this blog, they were making snow angels and sledding down hills on boogie boards. But Mom’s not your garden variety snow bunny. She literally has her doctorate in Instructional Technology, which means that she is way hipper with digital stuff than I am. So much so that she made her own wedding invitations on the computer. That was pretty cool, except that unlike most brides, it meant she could always print more. (And she did. If Mom saw you in the grocery store and remembered how much she used to like seeing you at Jazzercise, she’d pull an invitation out of her purse and – bam! – I was calling the caterer again.)

And here’s a little bonus material about John. Most people know him as the visionary president of Dayspring International, a terrific ministry that’s working to bring education, jobs, and an unprecedented awareness of God’s love to some of the poorest and most culturally rejected people in India. But John is also a graduate of clown school – the prestigious Bozo University in Florida, to be exact – and it shows.

To make their wedding day extra special, John hired an actor to don a gorilla suit and “kidnap” my mom off the dance floor. Not your typical champagne toast, sure, but their first date was an accidental screening of King Kong (they’d meant to see Munich, but it was sold out), and it seemed only fitting to carry on with the monkey theme.

I mean, who wouldn’t?

The first hint of trouble came when the actor didn’t show up. (A better gig? Hard to fathom.)

Undeterred, John tapped his son, John, who was about the same height as the professional actor, and urged him – during the reception, mind you – to swap his tux for the gorilla suit. All was back on schedule…except that John Jr. couldn’t see out the eyeholes. This being a second marriage for both of our parents, he and I didn’t know one another very well, but that didn’t stop him from stumbling into me on the dance floor and hissing through his plastic nostrils: “I can’t find your mother! Help me!”

I launched him in Mom’s direction, whereupon John Jr. successfully abducted her – in her full length wedding gown – and hauled her down the dock to a waiting boat. Ever the gallant, Groom John cried out, “I’ll save you!” and hopped aboard a jet ski to give chase.

At that point, most people figured the party was over. There’d been no alcohol, but everyone was definitely a little loopy. Knowing that John intended to bring Mom back (he’d already alerted the DJ to break into Pretty Woman when he did), Robbie and I plied the guests with more cheese and crackers and did our best to convince them to stay.

Which is when things got worse.

John had chased down the boat and, out of sight of the party-goers, managed to transfer mom (did I mention the wedding dress?) onto the back of his jet ski. All that remained was for him to come roaring back in to a hero’s welcome.

Except that he got lost. When you’re out on the water, I guess every cove sort of looks the same. Eventually, though, they found us, and Pretty Woman and her groom began to live happily ever after.

Except we forgot the cake plates. Undeterred again (he’s a dogged fellow), John improvised by putting great wads of wedding cake right into people’s hands. The kids loved it. (And if my wedding planner is reading this, all I can say is…I have no excuse. Consider your job secure.)

Oh. And we forgot the cameras. Nobody had iPhones back then, so Mom got a bunch of disposable Kodaks from the grocery store. (I found them right about the time the tent guys showed up to break ‘er down.)

As the wags keep telling me: Things will go wrong, but it will be great. And in Mom and John’s case, it definitely was. I will admit that I am a little bummed about the lack of photographic evidence, but maybe even that is for the best. I mean, the stories get “immeasurably more” with time, and it hasn’t even been ten years yet.

So…Happy 9th Anniversary to one of the most fun and resilient couples I know! You deserve each other.

(Seriously.)

And to anyone who is feeling the pain of loss or bereavement right now, can I just say this one thing? Your story isn’t finished. Go ahead and grieve – I still cry sometimes, and especially lately as these weddings approach and I miss my sweet daddy oh so much – but don’t ever fear that this, today, is all there is. God has a wonderful plan for your life.

You might not wind up on the back of a jet ski with a clown, but I can promise you this: It’s gonna be immeasurably more than anything you could ever ask for or imagine.