"Mama, I was just doin' that thing in that story (she means this devotional about self-control) we read before naps where she said to have power, cuz I was mad at Lizzie and when I saw Lizzie just walkin' away I decided to just go [insert long breath here] and then I decided to put away my fight'n just like it said in the story so I didn't get mad at Lizzie."
Why can't I do it with this much ease? Mind you, within 2 minutes, before I could even crank out this post, Pink stole her sister's toy and tantalized her with crackers. But you know, she's kinda getting the idea.
Showing posts with label faith. Show all posts
Showing posts with label faith. Show all posts
Thursday, July 7
Sunday, March 28
even more perspective
Last year I learned about the character-refining qualities of things like perpetual asthma attacks and bug invaders.
Last year and the year before I learned about the importance of accepting God's timing as we waited over a year to conceive our second child, only to miscarry and then wait another three months to conceive Lizzie.
Not that I claim to have perfected myself through these trials.
But the lessons came in handy two nights ago when TWO babies, not just one, took turns waking up All. Night. LONG. And when they switched off at around 4:30am, and I thought I just couldn't get out of bed one more time, I smiled, thinking of the sweetness of this time in our lives and how much time we spent longing to be in this place. We are finally here -- finally we have two miracles filling our house with chatter and giggles; finally we have two beauties to tuck in and cherish. And finally we have two little ones who cry all night when they're both stuffy and coughing with ear infections. Two call for us, desperate for the comfort that only mama, daddy, and some Tylenol can bring.
And that feels so good that even in the pain of a sleepless night, I wouldn't trade it for anything. What a wonderful, much-anticipated gift.
And what a gift of perspective I gained through the heartache. Yes, I believe God knows what he is doing, after all.
Last year and the year before I learned about the importance of accepting God's timing as we waited over a year to conceive our second child, only to miscarry and then wait another three months to conceive Lizzie.
Not that I claim to have perfected myself through these trials.
But the lessons came in handy two nights ago when TWO babies, not just one, took turns waking up All. Night. LONG. And when they switched off at around 4:30am, and I thought I just couldn't get out of bed one more time, I smiled, thinking of the sweetness of this time in our lives and how much time we spent longing to be in this place. We are finally here -- finally we have two miracles filling our house with chatter and giggles; finally we have two beauties to tuck in and cherish. And finally we have two little ones who cry all night when they're both stuffy and coughing with ear infections. Two call for us, desperate for the comfort that only mama, daddy, and some Tylenol can bring.
And that feels so good that even in the pain of a sleepless night, I wouldn't trade it for anything. What a wonderful, much-anticipated gift.
And what a gift of perspective I gained through the heartache. Yes, I believe God knows what he is doing, after all.
Tuesday, December 15
no idea what to title this, part II
read part I here
This is the first time in my adult life that I've moved into a place I didn't choose. And it's also the first time that I've clung to Jesus in the middle of the night on a weekly basis, crying out to him to sustain me. It's the first time that my marriage has been transformed by a singular set of circumstances. It's the first time that I've been able to consistently turn to my God as my "first phone call" rather than seeking out people.
There are still details up in the air. But God. And through it all, I've come to new conclusions about faith.
I've learned that faith is not a feeling or a possession. It's an action. It's a decision we make every day, sometimes every moment of every day, to place our trust and our hope in Jesus regardless of what is happening in or around us. It's a choice to find our strength, our security, our future, and our joy in the Lord even when we are drained, scared, hopeless, and burdened. It's the stubborn will that places one foot in front of the other to do the next thing, to fight the next battle, when we can't see past today. It's a fight we endure while the flaming arrows of the Enemy bombard us and we are continually tempted to throw in the towel on our beliefs about God, our relationships, and our responsibilities.
It's an action. Faith makes us say aloud, all day long if we have to, "God says this is so; therefore it must be so, even if all the evidence around me for a good long time has told me otherwise." Faith calls us to look long and hard at the character of God and who he has shown himself to be. Faith is messy because it believes in spite of emotions, in spite of logic, in spite of human failings. Faith doesn't make situations pretty or easy or joyous, but it makes them do-able. Faith can't be packaged up and taught merely in Sunday School. Faith is lived out in our actions every day. Being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see is not a concept that we pull off a shelf when we think we need it. It's not a "belief" we hold. It is what allows us to carry on when everything around us and in us tells us we simply can't.
I am learning this as I grow ever so slowly in my faith.
This is the first time in my adult life that I've moved into a place I didn't choose. And it's also the first time that I've clung to Jesus in the middle of the night on a weekly basis, crying out to him to sustain me. It's the first time that my marriage has been transformed by a singular set of circumstances. It's the first time that I've been able to consistently turn to my God as my "first phone call" rather than seeking out people.
There are still details up in the air. But God. And through it all, I've come to new conclusions about faith.
I've learned that faith is not a feeling or a possession. It's an action. It's a decision we make every day, sometimes every moment of every day, to place our trust and our hope in Jesus regardless of what is happening in or around us. It's a choice to find our strength, our security, our future, and our joy in the Lord even when we are drained, scared, hopeless, and burdened. It's the stubborn will that places one foot in front of the other to do the next thing, to fight the next battle, when we can't see past today. It's a fight we endure while the flaming arrows of the Enemy bombard us and we are continually tempted to throw in the towel on our beliefs about God, our relationships, and our responsibilities.
It's an action. Faith makes us say aloud, all day long if we have to, "God says this is so; therefore it must be so, even if all the evidence around me for a good long time has told me otherwise." Faith calls us to look long and hard at the character of God and who he has shown himself to be. Faith is messy because it believes in spite of emotions, in spite of logic, in spite of human failings. Faith doesn't make situations pretty or easy or joyous, but it makes them do-able. Faith can't be packaged up and taught merely in Sunday School. Faith is lived out in our actions every day. Being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see is not a concept that we pull off a shelf when we think we need it. It's not a "belief" we hold. It is what allows us to carry on when everything around us and in us tells us we simply can't.
I am learning this as I grow ever so slowly in my faith.
Thursday, December 10
no idea what to title this, part I
After 21 months of uncertainty, we finally have some direction. We now know that we are not moving 550 miles away, or 350 miles away. We know that we are not quitting our jobs here to search for jobs elsewhere. We know that we are not able to keep the condo we bought 5 years ago as a step up to the house we wanted. We know that our former daycare provider, beloved though she be, will not watch our kids anymore because she's too expensive for our new budget. We know that, as of last weekend, we are now renting a little apartment close to church, close to friends, and closer to work, and that our unit number is our favorite number: 7.
The funny thing is that my response to this varies greatly. I am emotional from the toll of job loss, home loss, daycare loss, dog loss, etc, and having pregnancy hormones through the thickest part of it didn't help. Lack of sleep doesn't help much, either. But that doesn't mean that things were always bad. I have been all over the map with my emotions: excited, adventurous, hesitant, scared, exhausted, spent, frustrated, angry, jealous, impatient, humored, ambivalent etc.
But God. 21 months ago I would have said that, as much as I'd like to think I could handle something like this, I'd probably fall flat on my face.
And then I'd eat some chocolate.
But God has been God - he's worked in both of us to grow our perseverance, and he's strengthened us when our strength was gone. When we couldn't plow through one more discussion of the options before us without just walking away from each other, one of us always hit our knees and found the perseverance to keep going and the strength to lift up the weak one. When we couldn't handle one more tantrum from Pink because our nerves were raw from the many business phone calls, the taxing discussions, the up-in-the-air quality to things, and the overall drain of life, we found the strength to love her as Christ has called us to, even when that meant seeking her forgiveness and leaning on God for reconciliation. When we had 1.5 weeks to move and had no idea what zip code we'd land in, we found the faith to walk ourselves into the office of an apartment manager and apply for an apartment that wasn't exactly what we wanted, but was exactly what God was providing.
part II to come...
The funny thing is that my response to this varies greatly. I am emotional from the toll of job loss, home loss, daycare loss, dog loss, etc, and having pregnancy hormones through the thickest part of it didn't help. Lack of sleep doesn't help much, either. But that doesn't mean that things were always bad. I have been all over the map with my emotions: excited, adventurous, hesitant, scared, exhausted, spent, frustrated, angry, jealous, impatient, humored, ambivalent etc.
But God. 21 months ago I would have said that, as much as I'd like to think I could handle something like this, I'd probably fall flat on my face.
And then I'd eat some chocolate.
But God has been God - he's worked in both of us to grow our perseverance, and he's strengthened us when our strength was gone. When we couldn't plow through one more discussion of the options before us without just walking away from each other, one of us always hit our knees and found the perseverance to keep going and the strength to lift up the weak one. When we couldn't handle one more tantrum from Pink because our nerves were raw from the many business phone calls, the taxing discussions, the up-in-the-air quality to things, and the overall drain of life, we found the strength to love her as Christ has called us to, even when that meant seeking her forgiveness and leaning on God for reconciliation. When we had 1.5 weeks to move and had no idea what zip code we'd land in, we found the faith to walk ourselves into the office of an apartment manager and apply for an apartment that wasn't exactly what we wanted, but was exactly what God was providing.
part II to come...
Tuesday, November 10
but God
I have come to love those two little words strung together. But God...
I can't, but God...
I don't see how, but God...
This is horrible, but God...
etc.
Not to get too deep, too early in the morning, I'm talking here about chocolate. As in, this baby doesn't do well with chocolate. She spits up lots of milk anytime I have more than one tiny bite over the course of several hours (which perhaps explains this). But her mama doesn't do well without it. With sleep deprivation haunting my every moment and Pink throwing a record number of tantrums, this is not a good thing. I'm not talking about a little fit when Pink doesn't get her way. I'm talking about tears falling and limbs flailing and screams that are loud enough to have the neighbors call CPS. All. Day. LONG. Mama needs chocolate.
Despite the threat of spit up, I've headed to the kitchen several times to "take a hit" so I can cope with the barking dog, crying newborn, and flailing three year old. Each time I've been stopped in my tracks by these words from Matthew 19:26: "With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible."
And each time I have walked away from the kitchen without any chocolate. None. Not one bite. In my own strength? By my own power? I'd be making pan after pan of brownies. But God. With him, all things truly are possible.
I can't, but God...
I don't see how, but God...
This is horrible, but God...
etc.
Not to get too deep, too early in the morning, I'm talking here about chocolate. As in, this baby doesn't do well with chocolate. She spits up lots of milk anytime I have more than one tiny bite over the course of several hours (which perhaps explains this). But her mama doesn't do well without it. With sleep deprivation haunting my every moment and Pink throwing a record number of tantrums, this is not a good thing. I'm not talking about a little fit when Pink doesn't get her way. I'm talking about tears falling and limbs flailing and screams that are loud enough to have the neighbors call CPS. All. Day. LONG. Mama needs chocolate.
Despite the threat of spit up, I've headed to the kitchen several times to "take a hit" so I can cope with the barking dog, crying newborn, and flailing three year old. Each time I've been stopped in my tracks by these words from Matthew 19:26: "With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible."
And each time I have walked away from the kitchen without any chocolate. None. Not one bite. In my own strength? By my own power? I'd be making pan after pan of brownies. But God. With him, all things truly are possible.
Wednesday, October 7
have everything? check.
Leaving the house yesterday morning on Pink's 3rd weepy-for-no-obvious-reason day in a row, I went through the list: blankie? Check. Shoes on? Check. Drink? Check. Snack? Check. Good, I thought. Now we're ready to go.
And Pink added as she walked out the door and headed to the car, "And I have God wif me and Jesus wif me and my angels wif me. Mama, I'm ready to go!"
Right. I didn't forget those things, too. Nope, I wouldn't do that. Cause I'm her spiritual "mentor" and all. I'm not sure if I've ever felt such a mix of overflowing joy and conviction all at once.
And Pink added as she walked out the door and headed to the car, "And I have God wif me and Jesus wif me and my angels wif me. Mama, I'm ready to go!"
Right. I didn't forget those things, too. Nope, I wouldn't do that. Cause I'm her spiritual "mentor" and all. I'm not sure if I've ever felt such a mix of overflowing joy and conviction all at once.
Thursday, September 17
on adolescence
A student's essay on the most difficult aspect of being a teenager today started out:
"Being a teenager, I think, is the most stressful time in your life. You have school to deal with. Then the fact of trying to find a job for your college fund, because let's face it your parents aren't going to pay your way ll throughout college. Also the nerve racking decision of what college you want to attend after you graduate high school."
Setting aside issues she has with syntax & spelling, this rough draft caught my eye because of the stressful time in my life right now. My initial reaction was, "Hogwash. If you only knew."
And then I thought for a moment about what my senior year was like, and I identified with the pressure she's under. Thinking about Pink, I remembered her struggles with delayed gratification, separation from loved ones, and frustration over not getting exactly what she wants. For her, life gets pretty darn difficult at times. Then I thought of my mom - she owns her house free and clear, has a steady income, and is healthy. She has also been a widow for over five years and tries her best to accept that as God's will, even though she hates it.
Which stage is the hardest? Adolescence, as many of my students asserted? My current stage of uncertainty in which we prepare to welcome a little one into God knows what house or what city? Toddlerhood? Empty-nesting & potentially widowhood? Or could it be that God allows us to grow during each stage, through all the trials we face, so that we are then prepared to face the joys and trials of the following stage?
Certainly if my student, God bless her, were dropped into the middle of my life right now, her heart would give out. But does it follow, then, that my current life stage is more difficult? Or only that hers seems relatively easy to me because I've had 15 years of maturing, living, and growing since I was in her shoes?
Perhaps each stage is just as difficult as the next, barring tragic circumstances, and this girl's life is no less stressful to her than mine is to me. Perhaps I shouldn't snicker when I read essays that detail the stresses of a relatively "easy" life stage, but should rather take my student and her peers quite seriously. I'm sorry it took me 32 years to figure this out, but I'm glad it didn't take any longer, lest I mock any more of my impressionable young students.
"Being a teenager, I think, is the most stressful time in your life. You have school to deal with. Then the fact of trying to find a job for your college fund, because let's face it your parents aren't going to pay your way ll throughout college. Also the nerve racking decision of what college you want to attend after you graduate high school."
Setting aside issues she has with syntax & spelling, this rough draft caught my eye because of the stressful time in my life right now. My initial reaction was, "Hogwash. If you only knew."
And then I thought for a moment about what my senior year was like, and I identified with the pressure she's under. Thinking about Pink, I remembered her struggles with delayed gratification, separation from loved ones, and frustration over not getting exactly what she wants. For her, life gets pretty darn difficult at times. Then I thought of my mom - she owns her house free and clear, has a steady income, and is healthy. She has also been a widow for over five years and tries her best to accept that as God's will, even though she hates it.
Which stage is the hardest? Adolescence, as many of my students asserted? My current stage of uncertainty in which we prepare to welcome a little one into God knows what house or what city? Toddlerhood? Empty-nesting & potentially widowhood? Or could it be that God allows us to grow during each stage, through all the trials we face, so that we are then prepared to face the joys and trials of the following stage?
Certainly if my student, God bless her, were dropped into the middle of my life right now, her heart would give out. But does it follow, then, that my current life stage is more difficult? Or only that hers seems relatively easy to me because I've had 15 years of maturing, living, and growing since I was in her shoes?
Perhaps each stage is just as difficult as the next, barring tragic circumstances, and this girl's life is no less stressful to her than mine is to me. Perhaps I shouldn't snicker when I read essays that detail the stresses of a relatively "easy" life stage, but should rather take my student and her peers quite seriously. I'm sorry it took me 32 years to figure this out, but I'm glad it didn't take any longer, lest I mock any more of my impressionable young students.
Tuesday, September 8
encouragement
I needed a big, heaping dose of "It's all going to be ok" when I came across this beautifully written article, linked at Rocks In My Dryer. If you're having a good day, you should read it for encouragement in your good-day-ness. If you're having a rough day, you should read it for some encouraging perspective.
And if you can't open the full article using the link above, click here, and then scroll down to "Good Linkage" and then click on "The Next Thing."
It's worth a little hunt.
And if you can't open the full article using the link above, click here, and then scroll down to "Good Linkage" and then click on "The Next Thing."
It's worth a little hunt.
Monday, August 17
lessons on discipline
* having bugs that wouldn't go away for 2 months taught me how to (almost) never leave so much as a crumb on any countertop, the stove, or the table, nor any dish laying around, even on days I work
* getting the house perfectly picked up by the time I leave for work so realtors can show it has taught me how to (almost) never have a piece of paper, a sock, or a toy out of place. HUGE contrast to my natural self.
* having a thinks-she's-six year old who needs to do everything herself has taught me how to get up on time so I can (almost) always drop her off at day care on time
* having an asthmatic child has taught me how to budget my time so that 6 15-minute treatments each day for a week is a doable routine
These are good lessons from not-so-fantastic circumstances. And yet, when we went to put Pink to bed (late) at 8:30 last night (on a work night), we realized that we had forgotten to buy diapers. Minor detail.
So I'm better than I used to be, but no where near perfected. Thank goodness I have a lifetime for that.
* getting the house perfectly picked up by the time I leave for work so realtors can show it has taught me how to (almost) never have a piece of paper, a sock, or a toy out of place. HUGE contrast to my natural self.
* having a thinks-she's-six year old who needs to do everything herself has taught me how to get up on time so I can (almost) always drop her off at day care on time
* having an asthmatic child has taught me how to budget my time so that 6 15-minute treatments each day for a week is a doable routine
These are good lessons from not-so-fantastic circumstances. And yet, when we went to put Pink to bed (late) at 8:30 last night (on a work night), we realized that we had forgotten to buy diapers. Minor detail.
So I'm better than I used to be, but no where near perfected. Thank goodness I have a lifetime for that.
Thursday, August 13
love is...
patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices in the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
Am I the only one who can't seem to get this right? Why does my own version of love look so much like the things love should not be and so little like the things love should be? Ughhhh! I'm having a low day...
Am I the only one who can't seem to get this right? Why does my own version of love look so much like the things love should not be and so little like the things love should be? Ughhhh! I'm having a low day...
Tuesday, August 11
faith like a child
I woke up late and still sick from yesterday. I had to leave our house perfect this morning in case realtors showed up while I was at work to show the house. Pink was particularly messy with her breakfast this morning. I didn't have time to make coffee. And when I got in the car I remembered that, since I never ran my errand yesterday afternoon, I also never filled up my empty gas tank. Pink was slow and wanted affection, and I had none to give her.
I complained to Beloved. I confessed to God. And then I just had to confess to the little smiling face in the back seat. I told her I was upset, and it's not good to be late for work (especially not at 6am - there's something ungodly about that hour). But, I told her, this is still the day the Lord has made and I asked her what we should do.
Pink, with all the wisdom of a child, enthusiastically replied, "Rejoice and be gad in it wike my Bible songs!" Um, yes. And oh yeah, it's in the actual Bible, too. Maybe I should follow that one.
I complained to Beloved. I confessed to God. And then I just had to confess to the little smiling face in the back seat. I told her I was upset, and it's not good to be late for work (especially not at 6am - there's something ungodly about that hour). But, I told her, this is still the day the Lord has made and I asked her what we should do.
Pink, with all the wisdom of a child, enthusiastically replied, "Rejoice and be gad in it wike my Bible songs!" Um, yes. And oh yeah, it's in the actual Bible, too. Maybe I should follow that one.
Friday, August 7
reaffirmed for me in charlotte
I mentioned that I went to the annual She Speaks Conference in Nineveh, a.k.a. Charlotte, NC. The best summary I can come up with, leaving aside funny stories and amazing (but lengthy, even for my standards) details, is the following list of truths that were reaffirmed for me:
God is good.
God loves me personally. No, he is passionate about me personally.
God is so big that he can call 600 women into some sort of ministry and not start issuing notices that his program for ministry is impacted.
God knows me up and down, in and out, for better and for worse. And he's still passionate about me.
God will provide for me, right down to a perfect-for-me roommate who was just what I needed.
I really am supposed to be doing this.
My heart-of-heart's desire to just sit at his feet and keep learning, keep serving, and keep allowing him to choose which doors to open, was exactly where he wanted me & wants me still.
God's people can be the most encouraging, helpful people around.
There were also a few who were less than encouraging and helpful. Which is a lesson to me that I am Christ's ambassador and I'd better watch my step. People have enough opportunity to throw me into this group already, and I'd better clean up my act.
The most brilliant ministry leaders are the ones who follow hard after Christ. I could name names, but I'd hate to leave anyone out. All the women on the team were wonderful.
When I am shining the most brilliantly, it won't be because of the way I speak, the "wisdom" I have, or what I look like. It won't be because everyone is in love with me. It will be because I've spent so much time in the tent of meeting that I will glow radiantly with the love of Christ. So I need to keep checking my selfish ambition and remember what my heart-of-heart's desire is.
My own gifts and abilities, without Christ's enabling, are worthless.
And now I'm gonna go see my Jesus for a while.
Join me, will you? Right there at the computer.
God is good.
God loves me personally. No, he is passionate about me personally.
God is so big that he can call 600 women into some sort of ministry and not start issuing notices that his program for ministry is impacted.
God knows me up and down, in and out, for better and for worse. And he's still passionate about me.
God will provide for me, right down to a perfect-for-me roommate who was just what I needed.
I really am supposed to be doing this.
My heart-of-heart's desire to just sit at his feet and keep learning, keep serving, and keep allowing him to choose which doors to open, was exactly where he wanted me & wants me still.
God's people can be the most encouraging, helpful people around.
There were also a few who were less than encouraging and helpful. Which is a lesson to me that I am Christ's ambassador and I'd better watch my step. People have enough opportunity to throw me into this group already, and I'd better clean up my act.
The most brilliant ministry leaders are the ones who follow hard after Christ. I could name names, but I'd hate to leave anyone out. All the women on the team were wonderful.
When I am shining the most brilliantly, it won't be because of the way I speak, the "wisdom" I have, or what I look like. It won't be because everyone is in love with me. It will be because I've spent so much time in the tent of meeting that I will glow radiantly with the love of Christ. So I need to keep checking my selfish ambition and remember what my heart-of-heart's desire is.
My own gifts and abilities, without Christ's enabling, are worthless.
And now I'm gonna go see my Jesus for a while.
Join me, will you? Right there at the computer.
Wednesday, June 10
lessons from a father
For some reason, Pink has been giving her daddy a really hard time for a few months now. She loves and adores him, she needs him, and she misses him when he's gone. But at least a couple times a week (or a couple times a day), she refuses to talk to him, touch him, or even look at him. This might go on for a few seconds or for over an hour.
He feels crushed inside. He pursues his daughter, his beloved little girl, the apple of his eye, and he is flaty rejected. Sometimes she's rather indifferent. Sometimes she's just plain mean. I did this to my dad, too, at this age. I tell Beloved that, but it doesn't lessen the sting.
It occurred to me today, though, that Pink bears a striking resemblence to the modern-day me, not just the two-year-old me. Doesn't God pursue me relentlessly? Doesn't he seek after me every day because he loves me and is passionate about me? Don't I turn away sometimes, not in anger or because I don't like him, but because there is something that catches my attention at the moment? Don't I ignore his beckoning at times? Haven't I had times in my past when I consciously walked away because I specifically didn't want to be with him?
If you have a daughter who is pursued by your beloved, then you know the heartache that comes with rejection (I speak only of daughters because that's all I know; could quite easily be the same way with sons). You've watched his face fall. Even if he recovers quickly and remains calm and loving, you see your husband's eyes wish she wouldn't turn from him.
Encourage him as he demonstrates God's pursuit of her, teaching her how very loved she is. What a high calling!
I'm off to lift up my husband. But first I'm going to my Father to ask for more grace, that I might never casually ignore him or turn from him even for a moment.
He feels crushed inside. He pursues his daughter, his beloved little girl, the apple of his eye, and he is flaty rejected. Sometimes she's rather indifferent. Sometimes she's just plain mean. I did this to my dad, too, at this age. I tell Beloved that, but it doesn't lessen the sting.
It occurred to me today, though, that Pink bears a striking resemblence to the modern-day me, not just the two-year-old me. Doesn't God pursue me relentlessly? Doesn't he seek after me every day because he loves me and is passionate about me? Don't I turn away sometimes, not in anger or because I don't like him, but because there is something that catches my attention at the moment? Don't I ignore his beckoning at times? Haven't I had times in my past when I consciously walked away because I specifically didn't want to be with him?
If you have a daughter who is pursued by your beloved, then you know the heartache that comes with rejection (I speak only of daughters because that's all I know; could quite easily be the same way with sons). You've watched his face fall. Even if he recovers quickly and remains calm and loving, you see your husband's eyes wish she wouldn't turn from him.
Encourage him as he demonstrates God's pursuit of her, teaching her how very loved she is. What a high calling!
I'm off to lift up my husband. But first I'm going to my Father to ask for more grace, that I might never casually ignore him or turn from him even for a moment.
Tuesday, May 26
who would've guessed???
When we prayed for divine protection for our 550 mile drive through the night to surprise my mom with a visit, we never guessed that the divine protection would include being pulled over in the first ½ mile of our trip, when we weren’t even on the freeway yet. Oh, did I mention that within seconds of being pulled over, we were swarmed by 3 (yes, three!) back up cops? There were 4 police cars (one was a huge SUV of some sort that looked even more impressive than the cars), and 4 cops circling our little 1990 Camry with untinted windows. What must onlookers have thought?
It turns out that the previous owner once reported the plates as stolen, then found them and put them right back on. The DMV never thought it was important to tell us this when we transferred the title or paid our registration. The cops, however, thought it was very important. Apparently when they come upon a vehicle with stolen plates, there is usually a hardened felon inside. The standard procedure? Call for lots of backup (no. kidding.) and order the occupants out of the car and to the ground at gunpoint!
The divine protection came in the form of some very nice sheriffs who 1)saw the toddler in a car seat and a couple of dumbfounded parents, 2)forewent the gunpoint removal from our car, and 3)even helped us out with tons of advice and a business card/badge number should we be pulled over again during our road trip. They even let us know that if we took the plates off right then, we might be pulled over, but at least not likely dragged from the car with guns at our heads while Pink looks on.
See? Divine protection in the form of a swarm of cops ready to defend themselves against an unassuming family trying to surprise Grammy with a visit for the weekend. And somehow, in over 1,100 miles along California freeways, some of which are famous for having 6-10 CHP staked-out, looking for a “kill,” we were never stopped again the whole trip. God is seriously creative.
Need I add that Beloved is headed straight to the DMV after work to insist we receive new plates? Um, yes, we will be following those nice sheriffs' advice.
It turns out that the previous owner once reported the plates as stolen, then found them and put them right back on. The DMV never thought it was important to tell us this when we transferred the title or paid our registration. The cops, however, thought it was very important. Apparently when they come upon a vehicle with stolen plates, there is usually a hardened felon inside. The standard procedure? Call for lots of backup (no. kidding.) and order the occupants out of the car and to the ground at gunpoint!
The divine protection came in the form of some very nice sheriffs who 1)saw the toddler in a car seat and a couple of dumbfounded parents, 2)forewent the gunpoint removal from our car, and 3)even helped us out with tons of advice and a business card/badge number should we be pulled over again during our road trip. They even let us know that if we took the plates off right then, we might be pulled over, but at least not likely dragged from the car with guns at our heads while Pink looks on.
See? Divine protection in the form of a swarm of cops ready to defend themselves against an unassuming family trying to surprise Grammy with a visit for the weekend. And somehow, in over 1,100 miles along California freeways, some of which are famous for having 6-10 CHP staked-out, looking for a “kill,” we were never stopped again the whole trip. God is seriously creative.
Need I add that Beloved is headed straight to the DMV after work to insist we receive new plates? Um, yes, we will be following those nice sheriffs' advice.
Thursday, May 21
wouldn't it be nice
if God would just sky-write the future for us? Or better yet, if he would give it to us on some kind of stone tablets that would stay around for years to come?
Ok, maybe that wouldn't be a good idea. But the temptation is rather strong, what, with the whole losing our house thing, and not knowing where we'll live (as in, which state, not which house), and not knowing where we'll find teaching and construction jobs when those fields are among the worst-hit, and not knowing where I'll deliver The Kid, and not knowing when any of this will happen, and all...
The temptation is strong. Praise God he's stronger than lil' ol' me.
Ok, maybe that wouldn't be a good idea. But the temptation is rather strong, what, with the whole losing our house thing, and not knowing where we'll live (as in, which state, not which house), and not knowing where we'll find teaching and construction jobs when those fields are among the worst-hit, and not knowing where I'll deliver The Kid, and not knowing when any of this will happen, and all...
The temptation is strong. Praise God he's stronger than lil' ol' me.
Tuesday, April 21
the bottom line
For two months I've shed tears over:
Pink's asthma blah, blah, blah...
pay cuts blah, blah, blah...
can't pay our bills blah, blah, blah...
bugs blah, blah, blah...
neighbors blah, blah, blah...
can't move dishes into our kitchen because we keep having to spray for bugs blah, blah, blah...
grief blah, blah, blah...
stressful work schedule blah, blah, blah...
daycare drama blah, blah, blah...
And what, exactly, is the bottom line here?
HE REIGNS.
nuff said. Oh, that I might remember that truth in every moment of every day.
Pink's asthma blah, blah, blah...
pay cuts blah, blah, blah...
can't pay our bills blah, blah, blah...
bugs blah, blah, blah...
neighbors blah, blah, blah...
can't move dishes into our kitchen because we keep having to spray for bugs blah, blah, blah...
grief blah, blah, blah...
stressful work schedule blah, blah, blah...
daycare drama blah, blah, blah...
And what, exactly, is the bottom line here?
HE REIGNS.
nuff said. Oh, that I might remember that truth in every moment of every day.
Wednesday, April 8
ah, humility
That beast of a virtue. It's the one thing that I have to learn over and over again through embarrassment.
As in: my father-in-law and his best friend decided at the last minute to stay with us on a Thursday when we hadn't finished unpacking our kitchen from the 2nd round of bug spray (I think we have a dining room table, but it may have been eaten by boxes of baking dishes and spices). We had almost every excuse in the book, but the fact remained that I had to welcome them into a messy home that smelled of bug poison. We can't even open our windows much anymore because there is a constant chimney of cigarette smoke outside our door. Gotta love condo living. And I couldn't cook them dinner because it would've made me sick. And we didn't have much of a place to offer them for comfort except for our couch-turned-dining-room-chairs and our lovely tv trays. To top it all off, I found out while I was at work that they arrived early, got the house key from Beloved, and let themselves in to take a nap. I didn't even have a chance to pick up the two wet diapers on the floor or do a quick under-roo checck.
And right at the moment I'm looking around everywhere but I can't find any evidence to show them that his son really did marry well. It sort of looks like he went into the sticks and picked out only girl who had a full set of teeth. At least I made a good joke at dinner.
Ah, humility.
As in: my father-in-law and his best friend decided at the last minute to stay with us on a Thursday when we hadn't finished unpacking our kitchen from the 2nd round of bug spray (I think we have a dining room table, but it may have been eaten by boxes of baking dishes and spices). We had almost every excuse in the book, but the fact remained that I had to welcome them into a messy home that smelled of bug poison. We can't even open our windows much anymore because there is a constant chimney of cigarette smoke outside our door. Gotta love condo living. And I couldn't cook them dinner because it would've made me sick. And we didn't have much of a place to offer them for comfort except for our couch-turned-dining-room-chairs and our lovely tv trays. To top it all off, I found out while I was at work that they arrived early, got the house key from Beloved, and let themselves in to take a nap. I didn't even have a chance to pick up the two wet diapers on the floor or do a quick under-roo checck.
And right at the moment I'm looking around everywhere but I can't find any evidence to show them that his son really did marry well. It sort of looks like he went into the sticks and picked out only girl who had a full set of teeth. At least I made a good joke at dinner.
Ah, humility.
Monday, March 23
2 down (well, up, i guess)
Beloved was spared a pink slip, and he, too, was the last one standing among new hires! Both of us would have been the very next person to go; both of us still have jobs. Still not sure about whether or not we have a house, but it's nice to have jobs and silly little things like, say, health insurance for our asthmatic daughter and our womb-dweller.
God is good. Nothing new there.
God is good. Nothing new there.
Thursday, March 5
uh oh
Either I’m losing it or you can just call me Abraham. I think it’s the former.
Beloved works in construction (sort of); I work in teaching. The public sector in California is beyond hurting right now because our lovely legislators are cutting like it’s going out of style. The private sector is hurting & Beloved was warned that layoffs are likely.
Here's the losing it part: I’m actually excited in a strange way for two layoff notices, a foreclosure, and a new baby to hit our home within six months. Why would I be excited? Well, because if God does all that, he must have something pretty big up his sleeve. So we’ll see just how big it is. Or how much we’re spared & blessed if we keep our jobs and our home.
Beloved works in construction (sort of); I work in teaching. The public sector in California is beyond hurting right now because our lovely legislators are cutting like it’s going out of style. The private sector is hurting & Beloved was warned that layoffs are likely.
Here's the losing it part: I’m actually excited in a strange way for two layoff notices, a foreclosure, and a new baby to hit our home within six months. Why would I be excited? Well, because if God does all that, he must have something pretty big up his sleeve. So we’ll see just how big it is. Or how much we’re spared & blessed if we keep our jobs and our home.
Wednesday, March 4
choosing joy
God keeps taking away from us things that we desperately want. But as I work to let go of those things, like my idea of how far apart siblings should be spaced (2 years), he is so good to open my eyes to the beauty in the family that we have.
If this pregnancy were a year earlier like we wanted, when Pink was only 1, she probably wouldn't have come over to me as I struggled to get up off the couch, told me she was sorry I was sick, gently pulled the blanket off of me, and told me, "Mama, I help you. I take good care of you." Throughout our lunch of PB&J, she kept telling me she would take good care of me.
Now how's that for a serious benefit to a little extra spacing between Pink and her sibling?
If this pregnancy were a year earlier like we wanted, when Pink was only 1, she probably wouldn't have come over to me as I struggled to get up off the couch, told me she was sorry I was sick, gently pulled the blanket off of me, and told me, "Mama, I help you. I take good care of you." Throughout our lunch of PB&J, she kept telling me she would take good care of me.
Now how's that for a serious benefit to a little extra spacing between Pink and her sibling?
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