Joys along the Journey

Seasons...change

2011-10-26T05:15:00.000-07:00

I took a drive yesterday.

Might seem like that is no biggie, but up here in the Adirondacks? In the fall? Well... It is magical. The colors were vibrant and the sun was streaming through my window and I kept sighing. Over and over again.

A change in seasons.

Having lived in Florida for much of my married life, I can honestly say that I have a brand new appreciation for all the seasons up here. I love watching the summer turn to fall in the bursts of color and the drop in temperature. I was all bundled up for my outing yesterday and my hubby smiled and kissed me, "you love being cozy," he said. It's true! I still get a bit giddy when the first snow blankets the ground and covers the trees with its icy tentacles. I love the refreshing promise of spring with the first little buds in my garden pushing through the cold ground and bringing new life and sunshine and beauty... I love the seasons!

Lovingly, the Creator, the Great Artist orchestrates them; the seasons. He whispers to the seeds in the frozen ground, "It's time".

He holds the storehouses of snow, He "fathers the drops of dew". (Job 38).

I am astounded by the idea that anyone could look at the brilland reds and golds at fall and not think that it is the miraculous work of the Creator. Makes me think of that verse in Romans 1 that speaks of His "invisible qualities and divine nature" being clearly seen.

There was a pounding in my heart yesterday as I took in those "invisible qualities", they were clearly seen by me. I almost felt like shouting, " I see You!"

I was moved for many reasons yesterday. We are in a season of change in our own lives as well. Perhaps that is why my heart was so reflective.

We have been thankful for this season here at Word of Life. Thankful for the rest, for the healing, for the friendships and for the great opportunities that we have had to regroup, refresh and regain perspective. It has been...a gift from God to us in every sense of the word. We are truly thankful for these past two years here. Deeply thankful.

But, as with any change of season, there is the inevitable change part. The great difference between the leaves changing and my own heart is the beauty of my will. It pleases Him to yield myself to it and to prayerfully condition my heart to listen to His voice and to respond in obedience. My life is now "hidden in Christ." The trees do as their Maker commands. No questions asked. They do as they have been created to do. I will do the same, trusting that the seasons will bring forth fruit and harvest. If not, then I will remain like a barren field, never seeing the miracle of growth.

Tozer talked about this in my devotional book this morning. The title was "Miracles follow the plow". What a vivid picture. Two types of fields. The fallow field and the cultivated field.The fallow field is as he describes, "smug, contented, protected fromt he shock of the plow and the agitation of the harrow." He goes on to say that this type of field will never know fruit because it is afraid of the plow and the harrow.

The cultivated field has yielded itself to the adventure of living. He says, "The field has felt the travail of change; it has been upset, turned over, bruised and broken, but its rewards come hard upon its labors. The seed shoots up into the daylight its miracles of life, curious, exploring the new world above it...nature's wonders follow the plow."

We are leaving our home here in Schroon Lake and in January we will be moving to Broadalbin, New York and Rob has accepted a position as the Interim Senior Pastor at a church there. We are so excited to see what God will do in and through our lives. We covet your prayers! How often we have nearly turned back out of fear of the plow and the harrow! And yet...

The Creator says to us, His created ones, "It is time", and our hearts respond, trusting that He, as promised, will complete the work in us that He began.

"For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do." Ephesians 2:10

Born after Midnight

2011-09-30T14:39:00.000-07:00

"Our Lord died an apparant failure, discredited by the leaders of established religion. It took the resurrection to demonstrate how gloriously Christ had triumphed. Yet today the professed church seems to have learned nothing. We are still seeing as men see and judging after the manner of man's judgment. How much eager-beaver religious work is done out of a carnal desire to make good? How many ho...urs of prayer are wasted beseeching God to bless projects that are geared to the glorification of little men? How much sacred money is poured out upon men who, in spite of their tear-in-the-voice appeals, nevertheless seek only to make a fair show in the flesh? The true Christian should turn away from all this. Especially should ministers of the gospel search their own hearts and look deep into their inner motives. No man is worthy to suceed until he is willing to fail. No man is morally worthy of success in religious activities until he is willing that the honor of succeeding should go to another if God so wills.

God will allow His servant to succeed when he has learned that success does not make him dearer to God nor more valuable in the total scheme of things. We cannot bury God's favor with crowds or converts or new missionaries sent out or Bibles distributed. All these things can be accomplished without the help of the Holy Spirit. A good personality and a shrewd knowledge of human nature is all that any man needs to be a success in religious circles today.

Our great honor lies in being just what Jesus was and is. To be accepted by those who accept Him, rejected by those who rejected Him, loved by those who love Him and hated by everyone that hates Him. What great joy should come to man?

We can afford to follow Him to failure. FAITH DARES TO FAIL. The resurrection and the judgment will demonstrate before all the worlds who won and who lost. We can wait." -Tozer

Eyelashes on my cheeks

2011-06-11T03:05:00.000-07:00

She looked up at me with her big, round blue eyes. She was fluttering her eyelashes, not really blinking. She looked so innocent. She said what she needed to say and walked off.

Let me rewind to fifteen minutes before the fluttering.

Morgan had been going on and on and on and on last night about a "situation" in her world.

This is a side note here, but I must tell you that I am learning not to scuff off these "situations" not matter how trivial or pointless they may seem to me...in her world, they are HUGE. Not taking the time to sit and listen to every detail would result in her not sharing with me which would be...devastating for the future. (Cue Cat's in the Cradle by Harry Chapin and insert here.)

So, she went on. "This girl did this and then she said that and then..."

I listened, I nodded, I agreed. (For the most part.) Towards the end, when she was telling me how she reacted to this other little girl doing this and then saying that, I felt the nudging of the Holy Spirit to say to this beautiful little creation of mine,

" I hear what you are saying. Wow. That must have been very frustrating for you. I am so sorry that this girl has hurt you." Then the pause. I went in for the kill.

"Would you like to have some advice?"

This is where it happened. The fluttering. The big, round blue eyes thing. Here's what followed.

"Not if its about me."

"Oh." I said.

Just a few words. But, this was a game changer. She walked away. No... she RAN away as if she was running from the boogie man. Okay. Point taken.

I am sure that the parenting books would tell me that I missed an "teaching opportunity" with her, but to be honest, the teaching was done BY her to my own heart from my own Heavenly Father and the point was taken.

The goal in sharing that little story wasn't too (necessarily) exploit my child, but to tell you how thankful I am for the whispers of God in my ears. Times like these where He is asking me to respond.

I woke up this morning thinking about that story and praying that I am never too old, too wise, to "full of it" to be in a position for my Heavenly Father to say to me, "Here's some advice..." and for my hard heart to be soft to His tender leading in my life in such a way that I desire for him to expose my weaknesses.

Truthfully, I am personally much more comfortable with the role of teacher that I am with the one of student. James exposes the problem with that mentality in the 3rd chapter of his book when he said,

"Not many of you should become teachers, my brothers, for you know that we who teach will be judged with greater strictness.

For we all stumble in many ways. And if anyone does not stumble in what he says, he is a perfect man, able also to bridle his whole body. "

How thankful I am that the changing of my inward man is being done by the Holy Spirit of God (1 John 2). As I abide in Him, He points out areas in my life where I should change grow and bloom.

How often, though I flutter my eyes up to my Heavenly Father after He has revealed a truth to me, through His Word, or through his tools and I walk away because I just came to Him to be HEARD, I didn't come to be CHANGED.

How many times have I missed out on the richness of His loving, guiding teaching because I set MYSELF up as the teacher.

Lord, give me ears to HEAR your truth and the meekness to RESPOND.

Unconventional Wisdom # 55

2011-05-18T07:38:00.000-07:00

It's the Journey, Stupid

He was a young man who was going somewhere. Everyone thought so, including him. He was idealistic, ambitious, and gifted--the perfect match for a culture which worshipped productivity. He had a lot to learn. He was me.

I saw Christian service as the highest expression of spiritual life, and I poured all the enormous energy of youth into every conceivable kind of ministry: youth work, evangelism, seminary, church-planting, music, radio, and pastoring. Then I capped it off with the big Kahuna of Christian work, a missionary career.

I had ideas. I had objectives. I was driven to change the world for God, and boy, would He be impressed.

In reality, I had simply baptized a secular view of worth based on productivity and called it vision, for which I graciously gave God all the undeserved credit. Mine was an entrepreneurial brawn. Whatever relationship I had with Him served as a means to this end.

I expected Him to change me, but I assumed that those changes would fall along the lines of making me more skillful and more powerful, in order to serve Him even better. It certainly never occurred to me that God might attempt to fix what wasn't broken or to relegate one of His star players to the bench.

Not surprisingly, God was not quite as excited about my program as I was. In fact, He rebelled. And when He quit facilitating my grandiose plans, I lost confidence in Him.

After more than a year of wrestling with God, this crisis of faith led to a paradigm change. He patiently showed me that the heartbeat of Christianity was not a superstar Christian service but loving God. Attitude was more important than activity. As I began to focus on doing everything as an expression of love for God, I found new meaning in my walk with Him.

Unfortunately, I was not yet weaned from my dependence of doing. I still saw my work for God as the primary expression of my love. And I had a plan, a vision of how God ought to use me, allowing me to maximize my efforts and to shout, "I love you" as loudly as possible. God just didn't grasp my strategy, which made Him seem kind of dense for an omniscient being. And when He didn't open the appropriate doors of service, I ran out of things to say to Him.

I was starting another crisis. This time, however, I had a great deal more experience upon which to reflect. And that reflection brought me face to face with several powerful realities:
1. God didn't seem concerned about when or even if my goals were fulfilled.
2. A lot of wonderful but completely unexpected ministry happened along the way to the accomplishment or non-accomplishment of my agenda.
3. My productivity orientation, rather than facilitating my expression of love for God, instead obscured my view of Him. It was a pagan idol, my own personal Asherah pole.

I was poised for yet another paradigm change, yet more than a little conflicted. I felt that God, rather than appreciating all I had to offer, was asking me to become something I was not, to do something I could not.

"I'm a dreamer and a schemer, " I told Him. "I've got overcoming talent. I'll work like a dog. But I'm no good at waiting and listening, just doing and talking. Give me a job, not a journey. Give me logic, not mystery. Give me a plan, not a promise. Save my soul, but not myself.

So God says, " Let's take a walk." Leaving the well-marked path behind, we meander for hours through a barren wilderness. I am becoming increasingly exasperated by the seemingly aimlessness of the excursion.

At last, I can't stand it any longer. "God," I boldly whine, "Just where in the world are we going?"

"Here."

I look this way and that, my frustration continuing to mount. "Here? What's here?"

"I AM."

I look back. My hometown, the Quad Cities of Activism, Pragmatism, Ambition, and Pride, is only a speck on the horizon. The day is too far gone to return. I have no idea where we are headed, so I can't very well proceed on my own.

In this desolate place, defined only by the two persons occupying it, there is nothing to do, nothing to plan, nothing to accomplish. I am restless. Why would God choose a destination which is, in fact, nowhere at all?

Suddenly, my flesh tingles with the giddy rush of discovery. In a moment, from nowhere and from everywhere, the elusive answer floods my consciousness:
The journey is the destination, a journey away from myself and toward God.

It's a little embarrassing to admit that I have not unearthed a hidden treasure but simply stumbled upon the obvious., a truth forever apparent but never apprehended. And, yet, belated enlightenment is better than eternal ignorance.

"It's the journey, stupid," I remind myself--today and tomorrow and for the rest of my life.

-Scott Garber, 2001
Unconventional Wisdom

Ephesians 3

2011-05-05T06:11:00.000-07:00

"I bow my knees before the Father, from whom every family in heaven and on earth is named, that according to the riches of his glory he may grant you to be strengthened with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith-that you, being ROOTED and GROUNDED in love, may have strength to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that suprpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God. Now to Him who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within us, to Him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever. Amen."

I love the idea of being "grounded". So many in this sin-wrecked world are floundering and hurting and being tossed around like literal rag dolls. The idea of being rooted somewhere and grounded somewhere makes me feel so secure.

I have done a lot of moving in my 13 years of marriage. It has been a journey to be sure.

I would be lying if I said that there is a desire in my heart to "belong" somewhere. To be grounded. To date this has not be God's best for me as God has given me a passionate and sensitive, God-fearing man that I have been blessed to follow. I am comforted by the idea; the thought that I can be grounded in my soul to the anchor of God's love and that will bring me purpose and wholeness and identity no matter where He takes me physically. His love for me gives purpose and identity. It is my home.

I am constantly meeting wonderful, delightful, well-meaning Christians who are on a pursuit of loving God without the crucial understanding of His love for them. It is a self-willed motivation to be obedient to God and to try and make Him pleased with us. The end result of this type of obedience results in pride or self-loathing. Not freedom.

I have found that my resting place is in the truth that God is NOT pleased with my goodness. He is not impressed with my righteousness. Understanding God's heart rests in His work on the cross. His love grounds me. It gives the tree of my life fruit and that fruit is a direct result of the soil of God's love.

Wishing to fight and combat the sin that is in my heart is anchored to His immeasurable love for me. It is only this understanding that motivates my obedience to Him.

"It is the awareness of His love and ONLY THIS

that will equip us to wage war against sin.

Until we really grasp how much He loves us, we'll never be able to imitate Him. We won't come near to Him if we're afraid of His judgment. We won't repent and keep pursuing godliness if we don't believe that our sin doesn't faze His love one bit. We won't want to be like Him if we believe that His love is small, stingy, censorious, sever. And we'll never be filled with His fullness until we begin to grasp the extent of His love." ~Elyse Fitzpatrick

Choosing to Praise

2011-05-04T07:25:00.001-07:00

My father has had a chronic illness for all of my life. It hasn't defined him.

My mother has been there beside him the entire time. Not just there physically, but with a smile on her face, a light in her eyes and joy in her heart she has purposfully chosen to embrace what God has chosen for her.

The last ten or so years have hit my mom physically in a way that no one can explain. She has continued, through her tears, to open up her hands in worship to God without a voice, but with a heart full of sacrificial praise.

In the midst of my own heartaches, I have been tempted to wallow. To crawl back into bed. Believe me, there are those days for ALL of us. And sometimes I think they are necessary for survival. But, staying there isn't an option.

It is a choice

I have kept this poem in my bible for several years. It always means somthing new to me as I journey along. My mother wrote it. It means so much more to read this knowing that the author understands what it means to feel pain, to watch a love one suffer, to experience the loss of a dream and to put passions on hold.

My parents, and all those who I have had the privelage of watching as they journey through this life, are heroes of my faith because they are fleshing out what it looks like to be real in the the pain and feel the pain and be angry at the pain but to also understand that hope is not found here on this earth. Because of SIN we are dying, but because of RIGHTEOUSNESS (not our own) we are being renewed day by day. Because of the cross, one day all the suffering of earth will be gone. That is our hope. We don't find hope here on this earth because outside of Him, there is none.

Today, friend, whatever it is that you are facing. Whatever pain you are enduring, I pray that this will bless you as it always blesses me. I pray that you will CHOOSE to praise the only One who can bring freedom, hope and light to your life.

"Choosing to Praise"

Oh, Lord, I need to talk to you.I'm feeling down today.

I need to know Your heart and feel Your presence as I pray.
You welcome me to boldly comebefore Your throne of grace.

Before I ask, You know my needs,

and every tear You trace.
You tenderly embrace me there and whisper "I am here!

"That's when I pout out all my heart

into Your list'ning ear.
And even as my tears fall downon Your Almighty breast,

Your everlasting arms uphold

and give my spirit rest.
Your faithfulness renews my hope.

Your love meets every need.

Your rest restores my wearied soul;

Your peace...it comforts me.
Before I know, my burdened heart

is filled with glorious praise.

To You, Oh God above all gods,

up-lifted hands I raise!
For You have done great things for me!

How wondrous are Your ways!

How great, Lord, is Your faithfulness,

with mercies new each day.
If I could count Your glorious deeds,

The stars would be outnumbered.

I cast the cares that rob my sleep

on You, who never slumbers.
It's you, my God, who is my joy!

It's You who meets my need!

It's You who satifies my soul

as on Your word I feed.
My every hope is built on You...

How firm is that foundation!

There is no other one but You

who offers me salvation.
I will my heart to wait on You;

You do well in all things!

With strength renewed,

I'll rise and soar

as if on eagles wings.
I raise my head to see Your face...

Your smile of grace astounds me.

And even as I turn to leave,

Your presence still surrounds me.
Because I am Your child,

I know;all things work out for good.

You promise purpose in my pain,

and I will trust Your word.
In spite of all I may endure,

I will, by faith, proclaim...

"I may not understand Your ways,

but I choose to praise Your name!"

~Patty Fischer

September 17, 2007

Thank Heaven for little girls

2011-04-25T15:31:00.000-07:00

"Fathers be good to your daughters, daughters will love like you do. Girls become lovers, who turn into mothers, so mother's be good to your daughters too..."

I love the lyrics to this song. It is secular in its origin, but so profound in this day in age.

This blog post is dedicated to men who have been given the great gift of raising daughters and to the daughters of those men.

I happen to be one of them. A daughter, that is.

I have had the great joy of being cared for, nurtured and loved deeply by my hero. My dad. Much of who I am today is because of the time and the investment and the example that he set for me. I have a great mother, too, to be sure, but a girl needs a strong and capable man to set the course for her life in nearly every area of life.

In his book, "Bringing us Girls", James Dobson states that "a daughter's sense of self-worth and confidence is linked directly to her relationship with her dad."

Woah.

This is no small under-taking! My dad has spent the better part of my life letting me know how beautiful, special, valued and wanted I was. He was real and honest about his struggles. He wasn't perfect, but he was teachable and vulnerable with me always. Some of my favorite memories included long talks late into the night while we would travel. He would teach me about everything from constellations to how I would know I was in love. He spent hours with me on homework and would agonize over every poor grade. He led our family spiritually by growing in his relationship with God first and then allowing that growth to spill over onto us. This happened not only in family devotions in the evenings, but in every single area of our lives. I cherished that time with him. He is still there for me, though he has shifted his focus to not only investing into me, but now into the man who has taken his place.

I have loved, delighted in, really, watching my sweet husband, woo and court the other little ladies in this household. He is setting the standard so incredibly high for any potential suitor. And I love it!

I love that he tells them that they are beautiful and reads to them at night. I love that they delight in his attention and his affection. I love to hear him teach my girls in the same way that my dad taught me. They trust him implicitly. (To a fault sometimes, since I know now just now much of their information is complete fabrication.) I love that they need him.

So much of who we are hinges on being loved by our daddies.

A delightful read is Harry Harrison's little book, "Father to Daughter: Life Lessons on Raising a Girl". It is a compilation of short proverbs in the form of quips and suggestions.

As a daughter and a mommy to girls who adore their daddy, I found these thoughts touching and insightful! I will admit to having the occasional lump in my throat as I read through them today.

* Accept the fact that your little girl will melt your heart anytime she choose

* Take part in her life now. Don't wait until she's 15 to try and develop a relationship.

* Sing to her while you're rocking her. She'll love hearing your voice- and it's a great way to pass the time at 1 am.

*Remember, if you yell at a boy not to play with a wall socket, he'll either stomp off or do it anyway. A girl will cry.

* Her mom will show her how to bake chocolate chip cookies. You show her how to dunk them in milk.

* Teach her how to count. First her fingers, then Cheerios, M&M's, dandelions, and fireflies.

* Be prepared to watch Walt Disney movies with her some 200 times. Each.

* Never lose the wonder of watching her and her mother together.

*Relish the moments when she toddles up and for no reason at all throws her arms around your neck. Resist the urge to buy her the world.

*Trust her mom to understand the mystery of little girls. You have yet to figure out the mystery of the big ones.

*Never, ever, make fun of her.

*Bear in mind that from the very beginning your personality will shape her.

*Ask her about her day, every day. Share her wonder

*Keep her secrets. This way she will begin to trust men.

*Take her for a walk in the woods. Show her what poison Ivy looks like, how to cross a stream, how to find her way back.

*Let her teach you. About what she learned in school today. About the Pilgrims, or multiplication, or manatees. How to sing her favorite song. How to bake a cake. How to braid Barbie's hair.

*Praise her often. Let her know you love the way she is. If you tell her this often enough she might remember it throughout adolescence.

*Make up stories to tell each other at night. Stretch her imagination.

*Surprise her by showing up at her school for lunch, bearing Happy Meals or pizza.

* Remember, society is teaching her its values 24/7. You need to be more determined to teach her yours.

*Never permit her to talk back rudely-to you or to her mother. Or anybody else, for that matter.

*Teach her patience, kindness, and tolerance. If you don't, many years from now you'll wish you had.

*Think before you speak. Even when you don't mean to, you can end up hurting her feelings.

*Never laugh at her dreams.

*Teach her to read between the lines. Remember, though, that she will probably have a better natural ability for this than you.

*Take her out of town to somewhere she's never been at least once a year. This will develop her sense of adventure.

*Remember, she needs a strong self-image before she becomes an awkward teen. A father's love can make all the difference.

*Accept the fact that girls squeal when they're happy or confused or excited or scared or because they just saw a certain boy in line.

*Talk to her often about decision-making and sex. About her peer pressure, about love, about romance, about God. You never know when it will be just the thing she needs to hear.

*If you don't approve of the way she looks before she goes out, send her back to her room to start over. Be gentle but firm.

*Never call her names. No matter how mad you are. No matter what she did. If you do, she'll remember if for the rest of her life.

* The day she is born, ask God to guide you in all aspects of raising her.

*Drag her to church, every week. She may not share your enthusiasm, but after 18 years, the message will have sunk in.

*Teach her to be moral in an age that bombards her with sexual imagery and innuendo.

*Teach her to pray for her enemies.

*Teach her that sometimes God has other plans.

*Teach her how to drive...without making her cry.

*Teach her, by the way you treat your wife, the way a man is supposed to treat a woman.

*Teach her how to look a boy in the eye and say, "NO."

*Teach her that if she acts stupid to attract boys, she'll attract stupid boys.

*If a boy pulls up and honks for her, go out and have words with him. Explain that your daughter answers to a doorbell.

*Wait up for her. Knowing Dad will be greeting her at the door will have a very positive effect on her decision-making process.

*Remember, every girl's heart gets broken. There's nothing you can do to fix it. Hunting down the boy won't help.

*Don't let her moods or anger push you away. She needs you now more than ever.

*Take long walks with her.

*Teach her to respect herself.

*Prepare for the day when you're not the most important man in her life.

*Tell her the three keys to wisdom: not believing all you hear, not spending all you have, not sleeping all you want. This will be difficult for her until she graduates from college.

*Have a look around her room. Take a moment to look at her pictures, her photos, her keepsakes. These are her memories. This was the childhood you gave her.

*Remember, she will break your heart when she leaves. But you will survive.

*Tell her she is the daughter you always dreamed about.

*In the end, let her go.

(Clearing throat to avoid swallowing it...)

The statistics show over and over again, and our society bears witness that estrangement or neglect from earthly dads have a direct effect on how we see our Heavenly dad. But, the opposite must be true then as well.

Good dad's give us a visual image of the most beautiful of all the attributes of our Heavenly Father. His love.

I wish to celebrate the good daddies in this world tonight. Daddies like mine. Lord, knows the bad ones get way too much air time. You are a representation of the love of our Heavenly Father.

What a weighty gift!

Thank you for stepping up to the challenge. These beautiful treasures from heaven need you now more than ever.

"Behold, what manner of love the Father has given unto us that we should be called children of God!"

Loved

2011-02-01T08:18:00.000-08:00

I was in the grocery store a few months back and the lady at the checkout counter said to me,

"Honey, you look like someone who is loved."

It actually took me a back a bit. What a compliment! I have been married to the love of my life for almost 13 years, and to think that I might still have that sparkle in my eye, the spring to my step, the flush to my cheeks that would shout to the world that I am a woman in love! It is true that I love Rob more today than the day I met him and it is also true that I am loved GREATLY by him. He reminds me daily how thankful he is to be with me. That I said "yes!", that I share life with him and walk this journey with him. He often spoils me with gifts, hugs me randomly while I am in the kitchen, and always remembers to kiss me goodnight. Provides for me and the girls spiritually, physically and emotionally. I have been blessed beyond measure with the love of this man.

But, he is not my first love.

But, maybe she was thinking of him at all, though.
Maybe she was thinking of the two blond headed, little ladies I had in tow with me that day. Girls, who just by their very existence remind me of the love I share with my husband. Girls, who will leave little love notes on my bed at night,who will wrap their arms around me before bedtime for that extra hug and whisper, "love you mom". They look to me for approval, love, affection, support and security. That is a great love.

But, they are not my first love.

Maybe she is talking about the love and support I have from my family and my friends. Those who I know "have my back". Who, if I needed encouragement, a kick in the pants, a spiritual truth, a right perspective or a good cry would be there for me. I have been so loved in my lifetime. Godly grandparents on both sides. Aunts, uncles, cousins, extended family, loving parents and in-laws, brothers and sister, life-long friends...the list goes on.

I am loved. She is so right.

But, it isn't enough.

I don't mean to sound ungrateful. I am humbled by their love for me. But, their love, although wonderful , at its best isn't enough. Their love will give me joy, but not infinite joy. It will bring me comfort, but not eternally. Their love is temporal reflection of my first love. My great love.

A undeserved loved.

The love of my Maker, Creator, Sustainer, Friend.

He loved me when I was unlovely and He pursued me when I despised Him (Romans 5). He sings over me when I am without song (Zephaniah 3:17). He carries me when I am weak (Isaiah 40). He gives me peace when I am in unrest (Phillipians 4:7). He gives me a hope(Hebrews 6:19), a purpose(Romans 9:17), a future (Jeremiah 29:11), a reason to live and took the sting out of death.

I am loved by a gracious, lovely God who knows me and still loves me!
The gospel should transform me every moment of every day. How often I am thankful for my eternal security but forget to embrace the fact that I have been chosen (Ephesians 1), I have been infinitely loved and accepted not because of my goodness, coolness,relevance or my righteousness. (Romans 9:18)

How easily I believe that I am judged by God on the same scale that the world judges me on. It is a misconception that the devil would love to drill into my head. How often I believe the lie.I read this the other day and I am rereading it over and over again, praying that it sinks in.

"We are staggering around under the misconception that we really do need to love and respect OURSELVES to make it through the day. We're reeling from the belief that the most important factor in any given day is our success or comfort.We forget who we are; incalculably sinful men and woman who are loved immeasurably by an infinitely holy God. We also forget how we are to respond: in grateful obedience. We fail to respond because we've forgotten the comfort of the gospel; we've been welcome, purified, and made acceptable by God's direct and loving intervention, and we think we have to fight to get what we mistakenly believe we need. Everything we needed to be done for us has been done. We don't need to fight to gain his love and acceptance."
!
Today, (please God, every day) may I revel in the unmerited favor and immeasurable love that You has lavished on me in spite of myself. May Your love for me transform my daily life in such a way that I clearly show in my behavior to others AND in the way that I view and treat myself that I am loved. May a watching world see your love for me in every thing that I do, say and think. May I REVEL in your love so much that the world will look at me and say, "She is a woman who is loved."

ps. YOU ARE TOO.

Psalms 34:5: "Those who look to Him are radiant; their faces are never covered with shame."

I can't wait till tomorrow

2011-01-05T18:43:00.000-08:00

At this time of year, it is almost expected to make a list of all that you would like to accomplish for the year. Pretty much everybody does it. Funny, though, I heard just the other day that most people will not carry out their "New Year's resolutions" past the first week. I can so relate to falling into that statistic over the years.

I am, by my very nature, a planner. I have always, to my knowledge, been this way. My mother used to sing to me a rather annoying song that went something like this,

" I can't wait till tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow

I can't wait till tomorrow, will tomorrow every come?

Mom and Dad are so, so patient. They never have to wait

Even though the clock is stuuuuuckkk. At quarter after eight..." ( Repeat)

Urg. The truth hurts. Especially when put to music.

I still want to know what's coming up. What to plan. How to plan. I HATE NOT KNOWING.

I am a slow learner, but I am learning that this accomplishes so very little when it comes to my relationship with God. I somehow conveniently, often forget that the future is not mine to know or even...control.

Besides, James pretty much discourages the whole planning thing in Chapter 4 of his book...

"Come now, you who say, 'Today or tomorrow we will go into such and such a town and spend a year there and trade and make a profit-' yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes. Instead you ought to say, 'If the Lord wills, we will live and do this or that.'

I am learning from the Lord . I have experienced His hand guiding me through plans that were not MY plans, but that were always a part of His. I can look back with such thankfullness because I know that it has been His loving hand that has taught us, guided and led us.

Leaving church ministry was not in the plans. Didn't plan that one. God did. He taught us both how beautiful it can be to be put in a postion of complete dependence on Him for our daily food and provisions and our wellness both spiritually and emotionally. There were days that my faith was so small and He knew that I needed that time to strengthen that area of my life. He used losing our plans and our security to show off for me.

Returning to Word of Life was not in the plans. Didn't plan that one. God did. He knew that this year would be refreshing and refocusing. He knew that we needed this year to heal from our broken hearts.He knew we needed to take a step back and to read and grow and learn and lean on each other and most importantly, lean on HIM.

Loosing another pregnancy? (Okay, the pregnancy wasn't planned either). Didn't plan that one. God did. I felt such peace in and through that time in our lives. Another proof of His power that is always at work.. I felt covered by Him.

There are many, many more to mention. Many are flooding my heart tonight.

As I take the time to reflect on His goodness in these areas, and in so many of the daily ups and downs of life, I can only resolve to do one thing. I resolve that I will NOT plan. I will daily hand it over. I will obey Him, follow Him and believe that He is Soverign over and in my life this year.

Planning for this year seems almost silly to me in light of how different it went from my well thought out plans. It seems pointless, really. I will go into this year knowing that it will not be anything that I could forsee or plan on, but He was trustworthy in the yesterdays, and I can be sure that He is going to be trusted with the tomorrows.

What springs to my heart are the words to a song my mom used to sing. I loved it then. I love it still.

If We Could See

If we could see beyond today, as God can see

If all the clouds should roll away, the shadows flee

Or present grief we would not fret

Each sorrow we would soon forget

For many joys are waiting yet

For you and me

If we could know beyond today, as God doth know

Why dearest treasures pass away, and tears must flow

And why the darkness leads to light

Why dreary days will soon grow bright

Some day life's wrongs will be made right

Faith tells us so

If we could see, If we could know we often say

But God ,in love, a veil doth throw across our way

We cannot see what lies before, and so we cling to Him the more

He leads us till this life is 'or

Trust and Obey

""Though you may not see where faith will take you, you can always see where faith has been."

The Banner over Me

2010-10-29T21:30:00.000-07:00

Tenth grade.

It was significant.

I was working my way out of a rather awkward few years. A phase, really. A frizzy hair, brace face phase in my life. (You won't find any evidence of these years as I have taken on the great duty of ridding them from the planet. Your welcome.)

I was beginning to believe that I could quite possibly be welcomed once again into society and perhaps could even take a gander into a mirror once in a while. It was great.

I will indulge you in a piece of the past if you promise not to judge.

I was in a fashion show in tenth grade. I felt so cool. So hot. So hip. It was so...rad. (I was also in a beauty pageant, but I will spare you the gory details.) On display for the whole world (just my high school, but you know...at that point in life it was the whole world) to see. We had worked for weeks on it and had picked out our own outfits from some pretty amazing stores and...well, it was such a moment of...achievement.

The reason for this reflection came about due to a conversation that I had with my 10 year old going on 30 year old. We were talking about what our life says about us.What, in her words, "the banner over our life" says about us.

Individually.

What I have concluded is that this does not mean that I am concerned about what people are saying about us. That is not the banner.

That battle for significance and worth from people will only ever end in cul-de-sacs and will leave one frustrated and severely lost. I have been on that hamster wheel before and God forbid I ever enter into it again.

No, the fact is...living a life that pleases others (allow me this soap box), in Jesus' opinion are people who are in a perpetual fashion show. In fact, Jesus goes as far in Matthew 23 to say these words...

"Do you want to stand out? Then, step down. Be a servant. If you puff yourself up, you'll get the wind knocked out of you. But if you're content to simply be yourself, your life will count for plenty."

I pretty much love that.

So, the idea here for me is...am I in a perpetual fashion show, where all I do is for display for the world to see; for the show? Or is the banner over my life display what I am willing to give, live and die for?

I want the banner over my life to read that I am about the only thing that brings purpose and hope and light and life. The Gospel of Christ. I want my daily decisions and my reactions to declare that this is what I am about. The work of Christ and its transforming power in my life.

I am continually humbled by my children and what they are teaching me. And I love this concept that Paige brought up. I pray my life will hold more significance than the value of popular opinion, or the car I drive, or the kind of ministry I have, or the status I ever achieve, or my 401K or my... you name it...

I want a way of life that is not measured by the fleeting approval of men, but by the eternal things of God.

"Mom, I know what I want my banner to be". " Great, Paige!" I said, " What is it?"

"Influence." she stated quietly and humbly. " I don't think I am too young to influence the people around me with God's love."

Gulp.

"No, lamb." I said, brushing back the hair from her forehead, "Surely, you are not."

And this mommy's heart is a testimony of that truth.

"God's kingdom is made up of such as these..." Matthew 19

Pistachio Shells

2010-09-12T13:18:00.000-07:00

There are some things in life that can warm my heart faster than anything else. Some are random. Some things go without need of any explanation.

Here's some that come immediately to mind...

The smell of a "Pumpkin Pie" Yankee Candle. I buy one every year. I withhold the urge to purchase one year-round for the plain and simple fact that it makes it special to only burn one during the Fall. You had better believe it though ,that as soon as the first of September rolls around I will, quite giddily (is that a word? if not, then it is a sincere emotion) rush to the local candle selling store and pick one up. I love how it permeates the entire house with its sweet smell. How, in the evenings, it cast a comforting glow from its seat in the kitchen window. It begs for a cup of coffee, a good book and a soft blanket. I feel a bit warm and cozy on the inside just thinking about it.

A note in the mail. You know...a letter with a postage stamp with your name on it? Not a bill, or a credit card offer, or a LL BEAN catalogue. No, a letter. Written in ink. From someone who loves you. I especially like the ones that come just because. It isn't Christmas, it isn't my birthday. Just...because. I am not at all saying that having communication literally in the palms of my hands is not lovely. But a LETTER. A card for no reason. It warms me.

A rainy day. I have a friend who is a sunshine lover. The sun shine makes her step and her mood lighter. I don't mind the sunshine. I like it a lot, actually. But, I LOVE me a good rainy day. Even better? A Sunday afternoon rainy day. I creates in me the need to slow down; to take a deep breath, to read "Pride and Prejudice". I turn on Norah Jones on rainy days and listen to bluesy jazzy music really softly. When traveling on a rainy day I will follow the path of the raindrops on the window with my finger tracing its lines and getting caught in its trance. I love rainy days.

I also love a house full of people. Monday nights around here are soon to be my favorites. A house full of fun and randomness and people cooking and football on and entertaining conversation and the smell of a fresh pot of coffee. Last week I had a heart full and a house packed with little people that I adore. My lifelong friend came up with her 5 little ones under the age of 5 and I had my three nephews, five and under, and oh...ya.. MY girls. There were bodies everywhere in our little home. Laughter and peanut butter sandwiches and boogers and poopie diapers. I loved every minute of it.

The most disillusioning moments come after everyone is gone and I am left with empty coffee cups, dirty dishes in the sink and fingerprints on the walls.

But, it was the fingerprints on the walls that got me. Oh, it warmed me. It got me all reflective and stuff.

Truth be told, having my best friend here created as she and I discussed, and "IMPRINT" on my life. A memory.

What immediately flew to my heart was pistachio shells. (This is the random "thing" I was speaking of)

We have moved around quite a little bit in our (going on) 13 years of marriage. Okay...we have moved 11 times in 13 years of marriage. For nearly every one of those moves has been my life's truest friend. My incredible mother. This kind woman not only gave birth to me, took care of me when I had chicken pox, trained me, mentored me, weathered life's ups and downs and spent many a sleepless night on her knees for me, but, she has also helped me in my many, many, moves. She has recreated the idea of moving from "yucky" in the icky sense to "Yucky" in the sense that we laugh till we cry, quite literally. She makes moving fun. (She is not for hire.)

Truth be told, moving me has never been her favorite task and I am sure had she known that this would be part of the job description for being my mother, she would have requested quite early on in my life to make a switch with someone else's less "high-maintenance" little girl.

She is a trooper. She is the best.

Okay, but we are talking about warm memories and pistachio shells...

My mother loves them. Pistachios. She won't settle for the pistachio's that are already shelled for you. No sir, not this lady. That is part of the fun. Peeling them.

The warm memory comes in here that for weeks and weeks after she had left our home after adding her touches here and there to decorating and putting things lovingly away in my cupboards, I would find pistachio shells in the most random places. Finding them would bring about a surge of warmth to my heart and an inevitable choke to my throat as I held back a tear. It was an IMPRINT on my life. She left a memory for me to enjoy. Over and over again. I recently just moved our couch and there was one lone pistachio shell begging me to remember...and I did.

The dictionary says that memory is " the cognitive process whereby past experience is remembered or the power of retaining and recalling past experience."

Sounds quite technical when you put it like that. See, to ME, memories have a life. They breath. They are remarkable gifts to us because time is so limited by its swiftness and "temporalness" (again, not a word).

All it takes to encounter these precious ties to the past? Pistachio shells, pumpkin pie candles, old love notes, pictures from an old album, a song on the radio, fingerprints on the wall, empty coffee cups, the lingering smell of my husbands cologne on my cheek and sea shells in your swim trunks.

Memories
(June Masters Bacher)
My arms reach out through time and space

And hold each memory in place:A creaking swing, a whispered word,

A promise only night winds heard...
A little footstep on the stair,

A small fragmented baby prayer.

My arms reach out through time and space

And do not find an empty place.

Listen to nanners31s Playlist

2010-09-10T13:20:00.001-07:00

The Poll of Popular Opinion

2010-09-07T15:13:00.000-07:00

Hello. My name is Annie. I live in Upstate New York and (pause)

I am a homeschool mom.

I homeschool.

When I share this bit of info. concerning myself to whomever and whoever, I am invariably met with many different reactions. Perhaps you are one of them.

There is this one. " Oh...that's NIIIIICCCCEEEE..." and often what follows is a rather patrionizing look of, " I am so sorry that your kids are wierd (or will be)".

Conversations with these types brings out the worst in me I am afraid. An immediate need for justification of WHY we homeschool. (Which to this day I am unsure of the exact reason other than the rarity that we just WANT to.) I find myself having to go into how neat it is. What a treat it is. How cool. How hip. The irony in this is how similar my own feelings were concerning the idea of homeschooling a child. Admit it. We are subjected to a stero-type that is hard to shake.

To the best of my knowledge I am not wierd, backwards, stiff, self-righteous or (cough) idealistic. I don't make my own clothing, I don't wear sneakers with dresses. I get my hair done as soon as the roots come in, and it will be on rare occasion (and by rare I mean that the house would have to be burning down, or you show up at my home at 6 in the morning) that you would see me without make-up on. I know the stereotypes. I really do. But see for ME...

I love being with my girls. I love seeing them create and learn and grow and change and develop. I love seeing the lights come on when they FINALLY get something that they have been working on. I love hearing them play and watching them interact.

I am not trying to shelter them or over protect them from the inevitable worldly mindsets. I am not trying to morph them into a smaller version of me. I don't homeschool for any of those reasons. I love learning with them and discovering things together. I love devloping in them a love of life and learning. I enjoy making learning fun.

I irritate myself with the often self-possesed need to expound on it. I really do. There is just such pressure to be the perfect; the best mom. And like so many other things in life we believe that there is a formula to access that ideology.

I find that not following the "norm" has brought this to the surface in my life. I see it in other moms as well. There are those who would love to be able to homeschool but just can't. There are others who love having their children in school and interacting and there are those whose children need to be in school for one reason or another. There are single moms who are pouring every minute into providing for their kids and would just love to be home all day with their kiddos.

I am really okay with that. To me it is not indicitive that you hate your children and don't want them around if your kids are in school. No need for you to have to justify your decision to me. Or defend it. What makes us come to conclusions about the direction our life should take, or the way that we parent should never come from the poll of popular opinion, though.

When we began this three years ago I can't tell you how much anxiety I had over this decision. What would I be keeping them from? Would they need therapy when they are older and will it all be because I homeschooled them? Would they be able to hold intellegent conversation? Would they make eye contact with other adults? (I am rambling...)

I was so very much influenced by the opinions that were surrounding me. I found that Rob and I had to make this decision like we have to make with so many other decisions concerning our girls. Through prayer and with the peace that can only come from the Lord. I hand this and other decsions over to Him. And, it is open for Him to change our direction at any minute. So I will NOT be the kind of mom who pats the hand of another mom and condescends her decisions.

I started this school year with much more resolve , confidence and excitment. I felt rested from our summer break and felt confident that we can make learning a lifetime event and that it can be fun.

I also was gearing up. Beause...there are days. I will be honest. Days where I feel like I will scream if I can't get away from them. If I could only have one hour in the morning to finish a cup of coffee, or to watch the morning news, or take a jog (okay a brisk walk) or meet up with friends for breakfast, or have a meaningful time in the Word. There have been those times where I have wondered if I could be a corporate something or other, or work in a bakery or...I don't know. But, at the end of the day I will say that I am glad that God has allowed me to do this. Not because I feel it is best and the only. But, because for me, it is neat.

No matter what I do as a mom it is really my sincerest prayer that I will live for HIM. That I will gladly use this time to invest, train, love on, encourage and exhort these precious little souls that He has given to me.

It is a true gift.

So, mom...

Homeschool, working, stay at home, public school, private school mom. Don't you feel so blessed? To have the distinguished joy of being in our kids world and to watch them grow, develop, change...It's neat. It isn't cookie cutter and there is no known manual. It isn't the same for everyone, but this truth from the Word is...

"Whatever you, whether in word or deed? DO IT.

With all your heart.

As unto the Lord and not to men."

May God richly bless you and your tireless efforts.

Flower Power

2010-06-25T08:30:00.000-07:00

"Walk in a manner worthy of the Lord, fully pleasing to Him, bearing fruit in every good work and increasing in the knowledge of God. May you be strengthened with all power, according to His GLORIOUS MIGHT, for all endurance and patience with joy, GIVING THANKS TO THE FATHER, WHO HAS QUALIFIED YOU to share in the inheritance of the saints in the light." Col.1

I heard something the other day that has changed me. It is a lesson that the Holy Spirit of God has been prepping me for.

I won't put it in quotes, but the premise is that if I really want to know if the Lord is working THROUGH my life, then the evidence will be that I wouldn't get any of the credit. Any of the glory. Any of the attention. That the "changed" or "touched" or "transformed" life would give complete and total credit to God. Without me having to say " ALL GLORY TO GOD".

It is something that I have been praying for in my life. Am I able to handle this? To not be given credit? There is the temptation, ALWAYS to put in a friendly reminder that it was I who "passed on" that incredible truth, or I who was able to help connect the dots. or I who shared that salvation message and saw hundreds of people come to Christ. (Okay, so that hasn't actually been an experience of mine...I am venting).

The truth is that I often pray this for and in my life, but so rarely do I like the way that it makes me FEEL when the Lord accomplishes it.

I am not talking here of false humility. I am truly asking God to remove me from the message or from the situation. I am asking to be used and poured out and that the glory would be evidently GOD and not me. I am praying sincerely for those who I feel have an insatiable need to be noticed for what they do for God. I am sad about it. "Doing" and "false fruit" has crept into our Christian circles with such great tenacity. It is a subtle sin, but one that Jesus dealt with so strongly while He was walking amongst us.

It is so subtle. So subtle.

How can we preach against worldliness and allow ourselves to have this worldly mindset?

After speaking of persecution for our faith, Jesus states in Matthew 10 that the disciples shouldn't worry about what they were to say in defense of their faith. Instead, he reminds them that "the Spirit of your Father" will speak through them.

I am reminded daily that the enemy takes truth and for his pleasure and our destruction. He will twist and distort it to gratify our flesh.

I heard somewhere that Satan tempts in three ways ( I am sure there are more...)

1. To follow the path of self-fulfillment

2. He twists the Word of God for our comfort and

3. He plays on pride by saying, "You deserve more!"

So, the other day I was praying for a few of the other ladies who are working here on the Island with us this summer. I was trying to think of a way to communicate to them that I love them and that I am praying for them. I thought that I might cut off some of the blooms from my hydrangea bush on my front porch. I smiled as I thought of dropping them off in their room when they weren't there and what a special treat it would be after a long day to find these happy flowers smiling back at them. Then, I thought about how this would bring ME some sort of silly fulfillment as they would naturally lean towards thinking of how neat I am. How thoughtful I am. How sweet of me to think of giving them this gift.

It was almost an immediate reaction (praise GOD) to my ridiculousness...

Did I design those flowers? Did I paint them? Plant them? Nurture them? Water them? Put them into the pot even? No. Why then, do I feel that I am deserving of the recognition that comes with the flower? Shouldn't all glory naturally go to the creator of the flower? The Designer of the flower? The Painter of the flower? Truly, ALL that I did was pass on to them what was given to me. I am not the creator, painter, designer, nurturer. I watered them and then passed them on. He then deserves the respect and the glory. WITHOUT my disclaimer of " all glory to God."

It does change the way that you look at yourself and your insatiable desire to be noticed, recognized, thanked, praised, acknowledged, ect.

It is nothing less than a subtle idol that can be all consuming and self-loving and NOT God-honoring.

Thankful for the reminder that all that I am, is a direct result of what HE has done and is doing in my life. He is the creator, desinger and ultimatly HE is revealing to me all that I know about Him as well.

"For it is God who works in you, both to WILL and to WORK for HIS GOOD PLEASURE." Phil. 2:13

The Hummingbird

2010-06-08T03:20:00.000-07:00

I find the humming bird to be so fascinating.

Perhaps a bit intimidating to encounter up close. When hovering, hummingbirds hold their bodies upright and flap their wings horizontally in a shallow figure-8. As the wings swing back they tilt flat for a moment before the wings are drawn
Most hummingbirds flap their wings about 50 or so times a second, which is why when you look at them all you can see is a blur. I find them delicate and graceful to watch as Hummingbirds can fly right, left, up, down, backwards, even upside down. While other birds get their flight power from the downstroke only, hummingbirds have strength on the up-stroke.

Hummers have a fast breathing rate, a fast heartbeat, and a high body temperature. They must feed every 10 minutes or so all day, and they may consume 2/3 of their body weight in a single day.A major part of a hummingbird's diet is sugar. They get it from flower nectar and tree sap.

Hummingbird bills are long and tapered, perfectly suited for probing into the center of tubular flowers for the nectar, which they take up at the rate of about 13 licks a second. Often one can see long translucent tongues spilling out of their long beaks, licking the air, as they approach bright colored flowers.

I had the fun of watching one outside my window this morning. My little hummingbird was hungry and he taught me something.

We have across the front of the house about six flower boxes. We debated for a little while about putting real flowers in, or putting in silk flowers. It makes a big difference to ME, but after some discussion we settled on the idea of silk flowers due to the fact that we wouldn't be living here at our house all summer long. They look fine. They look real, actually. My hummingbird thought so too.

He was rather flustered by my flowers as he moved from one to the next, trying unsuccessfully, to get the sweet nectar from my real looking, but fake, flowers.

I thought immediatly of myself and of my need for sustanance; for food. Not the kind that sustains me physically. The kind that sustains me spiritually.

How often I am like that little hummingbird, who goes looking for his needs to be met, and searches for it, often frantically, in things that are FAKE or FALSE.

The Word says, " Therefore, I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them."

I know I am stretching this verse, but here it goes:

The Heavenly Father feeds me. He feeds me physically, and He alone can meet the spiritual needs in my heart and in my life. How often I turn to the world. Like my silk flowers, they resemble that which I need in order to be fed. They are enticing and there in front of me. But the promises of this world for fulfillment and peace and security and status, and acceptance are just... well, they are fake. Phoney. Imitators of the Truth. It is a futile to put my hope into the world as it was for my little hummingbird to fly from one flower to the next until he was weary, tired, and more empty than when he came to my window.

It is why John writes, " Do not love the world or the things in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him. For all that is in the world- the desires of the flesh and the desires of the eyes and pride in possessions-is not from the Father but is from the world. AND THE WORLD IS PASSING AWAY along with its desires, but whoever does the will of God abides forever."

My relationship with God provides for me life. Real, life. Real hope, real joy, real security, real peace. I won't find it in the silk flowers of this world. I will only find it in the real deal. The sweet, satisifying and only TRUE God.

Hummers have good memory; they can remember food sources from previous years. Oh, that I would remember yet another lesson from the Hummingbird and would not return to those things that have left me hungry and longing for real food, but would remember to return to the "place" where I find my true hunger filled.

"And we know that the Son of God has come and has given us understanding, so that we may know HIM WHO IS TRUE; and we are in Him WHO IS TRUE, in His Son Jesus Christ. He is the true God and eternal life. Little children, keep yourself from idols." I John 5:20,21

Dog dung

2010-05-23T20:29:00.000-07:00

Pretty interesting title. It is a great visual for me, though. Dog dung is nasty. It smells. I hate, hate, hate, cleaning up dog poo. I actaully feel like I am going to wretch when I have to clean it up. That is what it is to be. Dog dung. See, I am weary of it. The self-promotion, the long lists of credentials, the self-inflation, the superiority, the undermining of other brothers and sisters in Christ for the sake of fleeting, personal advancement. I am sorry. It doesn't belong here. Not among us. Not among family. The narcisicm doesn't belong among God's children. He died for us. It's His goodness, His righteousness, His grace, His holiness that is to be lifted up and praised and glorified. NOT US. Weary of the talk. Weary of listening to countless amounts of people who have a deep need for personal gratification. To be viewed as special and significant because you are for serving Christ. Okay, not weary. Wretching.

Personally, here's where I am at. I want to know Him and be known to the world as someone that is known BY Him. That is enough for me. God, you are enough.
Dumping the rest in the trash. Tearing it up.

"Steer clear of barking dogs, those religious busybodies, all bark and no bite. All they're interested in is appearances-knife-happy circumcisers, I call them. The REAL believers are the ones the Spirit of God leads to work away at this ministry, filling the air with Christ's praise as we do it. We couldn't carry this off by our own efforts, and we know it-even though we can list what many might think are impressive credentials...

The very credentials these people are waving around as special, I'm tearing up and throwing out with the trash-along with everything else I used to take credit for. And why? Because of Christ. Yes, ALL things I once thought were so important are gone from my life. Compared to the high privilege of knowing Christ Jesus, my Master, firsthand, everything I once thought I had going for me is insignificant- DOG DUNG. I've dumped it all in the trash so that I could embrace Christ and be embraced by Him." Phil. 3

Acts of Praise

2010-05-11T11:27:00.000-07:00

" Acts of Praise"

The most basic act of worship

Lord, I am Yours. Whatever the cost may be, may your will be done in my life. I realize I'm not here on earth to do my own thing, or to seek my own fullfillment or my own glory. I'm not here to indulge my desires, to increase my possesions, to impress people, to be popular, to prove I'm somebody important or to promote myself. I'm not here even to be relevant or successful by human standards. I'M HERE TO PLEASE YOU.

I offer myself to You, for You are worthy. All that I am or hope to be, I owe to You. I'm Yours by creation and every day I recieve from You life and breath and all things. And I'm yours because You bought me, and the price You paid was the precious blood of Christ. You alone, the triune God are worthy to be my Lord and Master. I yield to You, my gracious and glorious heavenly Father; to the Lord Jesus who loved me and gave Himself for me; to the Holy Spirit and His gracious influence and empowering.

All that I am and all that I have I give to You.

I give you the rebellion in me, which resists doing Your will. I give You my pride and self dependence, which tell me I that I can do Your will in my own power if I try hard enough. I give you my fears, which tell me I'll never be able to do Your will in some areas of my life. I consent to let You energize me...to create within me, moment by moment, both the desire and the power to do Your will.

I give you my body and each of its members...my entire being; my mind, my emotional life, my will...my loved ones...my marriage or my hopes for marriage...my abilities and gifts...my strengths and weaknesses...my health...my status (high or low)...my possessions...my past, my present, and my future...when and how I'll go home.

I'm here to love You, to obey You, to glorify You. O my Beloved, may I be a joy to You!

31 days of praise

Ruth Warren

Noisy gongs and clanging cymbals

2010-05-06T19:08:00.000-07:00

Huddled together on our couch, we have been digesting with our children the relevant truths of this important passage of scripture every night. Taking it apart. Trying to live it. As we listen to these commands individually, each night we have walked away from the mirror of God's word humbled by our actions and repentive in our spirit. I am wrecked by the great love I have for myself and the play I find myself the lead in. To the Lord's ears I sound muffled. Annoying. Loud. I can have the greatest of wisdom, but without love I am nothing. It is not an emotion. Not a good intention...

"Love is a verb."-dc talk

I Corinthians 13

"Love is patient."

Patient. When I have expectations. Needs. Desires. Feelings. Plans. Deadlines. Opinions.

"Love is kind."

Kind. When you hurt me. When you disappoint me. When you talk too much. When you leave your wet laundry in a pile on the carpeted floor. When you expect too much. When you aren't there. When you need me.

"Love does not envy."

Envy. When you have something that I want. When you get that which I feel I deserve. When you are promoted, praised,congratulated, blessed, pretty, pregnant, married, wealthy, happy.

"It does not boast."

Boast. When I just want you to know who I am. What I've done. What I've seen. What accomplishments I have. What books I am reading. How God has used me. What I've learned. Who I know. How much I have aquired.

"It is not arrogant."

Arrogant. When I want you to see who I am. How talented. How wise. How cool. How relevant. When I think I am better than you.

"Or rude."

Rude. When you get in my way. When you hurt my feelings. When you don't listen. When you reject me. When you cut me off. When you deserve it.

"It does not insist on its own way."

My way. When you just won't listen. When I know better. When you reject my advice. When you walk away from Truth.

"It is not irritable"

Irritable. When I just need five minutes. When you talk about yourself.

"Or resentful"

Resentful. When you recieved that one thing that I have desired more than anything. When I am without and you are with. When you talked about me. When I know you hate me.

"It does not rejoice at wrong doing, but rejoices with the truth."

Rejoices. Wanting your best even if you desire my worst.

"Love BEARS all things. BELIEVES all things. HOPES all things."

Without judgment. Without recourse. Genuine desire for your best. Even when you hurt me, reject me, belittle me, look better than me, take advantage of me, lie to me, turn on me.

"Love never ends."

"If I speak in the tounges of men and of angels and have not love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal."

Jesus, Draw Me Ever Nearer

2010-02-17T12:17:00.000-08:00

Jesus, Draw me ever Nearer

by Keith Getty and Margaret Becker

Jesus, draw me ever nearer

As I labor thro' the storm

You have called me to this passage

And I'll follow tho' I'm worn

May this journey be a blessing

May I rise on wings of faith

And at the end of my hearts testing

With your likeness let me wake

Jesus, guide me thro' the tempest

Keep my spirit staid and sure

When the midnight meets the morning

Let me love you even more

May this journey be a blessing

May I rise on wings of faith

And at the end of my hearts testing

With your likeness let me wake

Let the treasures of the trial

Form within me as I go

And at the end of this long passage

Let me leave them at your throne

May this journey be a blessing

May I rise on wings of faith

And at the end of my hearts testing

With your likeness let me wake

Jesus, draw me ever nearer

Ever nearer to you.

Choosing to Trust

2010-01-31T07:37:00.000-08:00

How thankful I am for the legacy of faith that has been passed down through the many generations before me. I have never doubted the existance of God, but I must say that very often I have had to choose to trust in His Soverignty and in His choices for my life. I wrestle with the will to hold onto my own plans and desires daily. This poem was penned by the hand of my sweet grandmother who has lived her life in surrender to a loving, gracious and intimate God. I am thankful for the reminder of the legacy of His grace and thankful the challenge to choose to trust Him in the midst of the uncertainties of life.

Choosing To Trust
by Joyce Hart
I'm groping along a dark pathway today -
My lamp has grown dim -
I'm not sure of my way.
I question my faith that I thought was so strong;
The days are so painful, the nights are so long.
Has God now forsaken me, left me alone?
My cries seems unanswered, the heavens like stone.
Shall I, in my bitterness, faint and rebel
Or shall I keep trusting, as when all is well?
The Evil One whispers, "See, God does not care -
You trusted, but He will not answer your prayer."
But where would I go, if my faith I should lose?
There's no other refuge - His way I must choose.
He comes to remind me that He's in command
And I am His child, so I'm safe in His hand,
For nothing can touch me unless He approves,
And all of it based on the fact that He loves.
He wept at the tomb where His friend, Lazarus, laid
"Behold, how He loved him, the bystanders said.
"Twas not for Himself that He wept, but His tears
Were shed for the grief we'd feel down through the years.
He wept so we'd know that our trial He shares -
In all of our heartaches, He knows and He cares.
We may endure trials, but someday they'll cease
And those who are His will know nothing but peace.
When tears are forgotten and all wiped away,We'll bow down and worship with joy at His feet. Our present afflictions will then seem so small
And the time we endured them like no time at all.
Then run with endurance the race you must runAnd fight the good fight till the battle is done. For faithfulness here He will give a reward;
Forever and ever we'll be with the Lord.
Joyce Hart

Pondering the path of my feet

2010-01-05T07:02:00.000-08:00

"Let your eyes look directly forward, and your gaze be straight before you. Ponder the path of your feet; then all your ways will be sure. Do not swerve to the right or to the left; turn your foot away from evil." Proverbs 4:25-27

This past summer I got totally lost in a maze. I somehow got seperated from my giggling children as they ran headlong into one. It wasn't that big for goodness sake! How could I have possibly gotten so turned around? Panic even set in. It seems silly now. It's not like I would have to build a home there. I could somehow picture myself, though, after a few hours of wandering, having my husband find me huddled in the corner covered in dirt and in a fetal position. "Get a grip" I told myself. It's just a maze. Keep calm. Think.

Of course, I eventually found my way out of the maze and was met by the confused faces of my family who were obviously astounded that I could really get lost in a man made bunch of shrubs.

Go figure.

Today, I kinda feel that way. A little panicky. A bit lost. Maybe even feeling that I might want to curl up in a fetal postion and wait until help comes.

Change. I long to be spontaneous and adventurous and throw caution to the wind and just...I don't know...chill? I am not, however one of those people. I have known several people like that in my life and have so envied thier ability to really live. They also really annoy me.

Change hasn't been easy for me this time. Said some hard goodbyes to my family this last month Goodbye to a home we loved and people that we cherish and a dream of being able to serve our church. Said hello to a new life, new job, new friends, new home, new...everything. I tend to want to resort back to what is comfortable and what seemed to be so normal.

I recognize, through the Sprit's gentle whispers in my ear of late, that a life of comfort and "normal" is not the cry of my heart, however. I long to live richly, deeply in the comfort of HIM. Resting in HIS provisions for me. Both physical and spiritual. I long for the daily dependency that a life of faith can bring. I greatly desire for He alone to be my portion and my song. I just have to admit to feeling a bit lost on the path that brings me to that place.

That is why today as I read this verse over and over and over again I was so comforted in this leg of my journey. A note from Him today. Look forward. Keep walking. Don't swerve. Ponder the path of your feet.

I found in my Bible, some weeks back now a quote from someone, don't know who. It stated,

" You never know where faith will take you, but you can always see where faith has been."

Whew! Love that!

The God of yesterday who faithfully provides for me in all the best ways is the God of today and tomorrow. He gives what I need when I need it and leads me through this maze of emotions that I am struggling through today.

" He will my shield and portion be as long as life endures." -amazing grace

Celebrating Daddy

2009-10-21T13:04:00.000-07:00

This morning began like all the others. Mostly.

I awoke to the sound of giggling in the kitchen which happens to be very close to right outside our bedroom door. The girls were up and happy. I could hear them empting cereal into a bowl and I could hear the POP from the toaster

I turned over in bed and was greeted by the sweet smiling face of my beloved friend and husband.

He smiled at me and touched my face, "Good morning" he said in a thick and low grumble.

We exchanged a smile as we heard the lilting laugh of our youngest. This particular laugh is one that has on more than one occasion been followed by a crash or a cry from her sibling, so it didn't take long for us to be quickly jolted out of our much loved sleepy state and jump out of bed in order to inspect what it was that she was laughing that laugh over.

Yes, the naughty laugh.

Rob opened the door quickly and yelled, "what are you doing?" and was met by the happy squeals of his little girls. Tragedy averted for the time being. No nasty spills. Just one saucy seven year old that got her older sister to laugh at her doing something...well...naughty.

It involved boobs.

By the time I joined them the coffee was brewing and the news was on and the girls were munching on their breakfast. I was met with a " Good morning, mommy!" and a soft kiss on my cheek from my hubby.

Ah.

I love these mornings.

Rob and I threw on our sneakers and headed out the door with our girls close on our heels. The weather was perfect. The sun was shining.

Morgan was trying to get the kick stand up on her bike. " Dad!" she yelled desperately. " Help!" The urgency in her voice was there because she had to keep up with her older sister who was already out of the driveway and down the street, breeze whipping her shining hair behind her.

" Don't worry, Morgan, I got it." She dazzled him with a your-my-hero-type smile and was off.

I turned to him then and told him what I have felt since the moment I met him.

" I like being with you."

And I do.

I truly love being with him.

He can make the simplest things of life an absolute joy to me.

How often I take for granted the daily things He does for me to make my day easier or to remind me that he cares.

At one poin this morning, Paige looked over at me and said, "Mom, can we do something today to celebrate dad?"

I had to smile at that thought.

We are all feeling a bit sentimental today.

He is leaving us for about two weeks. It has caused me to stop and appreciate him.

I wish I spent more days celebrating him. Every day should be a time to stop and be thankful for the richness of this gift to me. To us.

The silent ministries, the understated ones are often so overlooked. Pumping the gas in our car, emptying the trash, reading to the girls before bed each night when he is able ( he even reads "Mandie" and puts up with our teasing over it) Running flash cards with them during math, teaching them to ride their bikes, opening the car door, ( okay, that doesn't happen all the time, but it does happen), reaching for my hand in the car while we are driving, lifting those hands in worship during church. These are all things that his dear hands do in a day for us.

These are all things that I would miss so very much if they were gone.

I love this man.

I love being his wife and I truly am thankful to walk this road of life with him.

A new Thing

2009-10-09T06:12:00.000-07:00

"Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now is springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the desert and streams in the wasteland."
Isaiah 43: 18,19

A way in the desert. Streams in the wasteland. Wow. That's a picture.

I love it that the Word of God speaks to me in ways like this. I am such a visual person. I have to see it to understand it.

I can see this.

I am living this.

The past four months have been tough. Not tough in the sense of loosing a spouse or a child. Not on that level tough. But painful.

This walkabout with God has revealed some wonderful things to me. About me.

He has taught me characters about Himself that have blown my mind and that when learning them, I have been healed of the hurt, the pain, the rejection, the loss and especially the fear of it happening again. ( and it will)

If I have learned MUCH, and I am excited to write them out, but the grreatest lesson is this one...

All things come from His loving hand. All things.

All things.

" I know that you can do all things; no plan of yours can be thwarted." Job 42:2

It took a while to sink in. But, I get it now.

For me, often, it takes things coming full circle for me to have faith, but it has been wonderful to experience God's presence and peace BEFORE all came full circle. For months we knew NOTHING. We heard nothing. We had no direction. Silence. We prayed. We cried. We mourned. We broke. We left.

He was there. In the midst of the storm. He is true to His character and true to His promises. He doesn't leave. He doesn't forsake. He is "I am."

If ever a time that I felt the support that can come from the family of God it has been now. Rob and I have never experience more love than in these last few months. (Eccl. 8:1)

It has increased my resolve to be sensitive to the hurting around me. And there are so many hurting. It has given me perspective on how to reach out and has taught me what not to say. (Phil. 2)

This time has been sharpening me to not pull back from relationships becuase I fear being hurt. Fear is not from God. Pain sometimes is. But, only because He loves me and because He will not leave me to just be hurt. Fear holds me back from experiencing and from giving love. I won't let the enemy steal that.

" The Lord Himself goes before you and will be with you;

He will never leave you nor forsake you.

Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged." Duet. 31:8

It has caused me to be cautious of those "joy robbers".

The big one being the improper use of the tounge. Having felt the ill effects of its improper use in our lives, Rob and I are more resolved than ever to clap that hand over our mouths and promote peace rather than destruction.
" Whoever keeps his mouth and his tounge keeps his life." Prov. 21:21

I have had to be reminded of my committment to hold true to the greatest goal in life . To glorify God. Not by what I am doing, but by who I am identifying with.

" Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus,

who though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God

a thing to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the form of a servant..."

Oh, Lord, keep me there.

I am learning that hurt is going to happen here. Loss is going to happen here. Pain is part of the process here. It softens and readies my heart for heaven.

I have also learned that there is joy here. There is great delight in relationships here. There is peace in trusting ( sometimes blindly) in the gentle Shepherd.

"In the Lord alone are righteousness and strength." Isaiah 45:24

I am thankful for this journey. I am thankful for all that has happened. I am thankful for the joy and the hope I have, not from a situation changing, but from my Savior. The One who orchestrated this for me to "conform me to the image of His Son".

Thank you for praying for me. Because of His grace and His love, we are better than we have ever been.

Duet. 8:2b

" The Lord God led you and (tested) you in order to know what was in your heart, whether or not you would keep his commands. He humbled you...to teach you that man does not live by bread alone but on every word that comes from the mouth of the Lord...know then in your heart that as a man disciplines his son, so the Lord your God disciplines you."

Pondering in my heart

2009-10-07T18:20:00.000-07:00

Memories.

I try to hold onto so many of them. Often I feel that I am grasping them as I would grasp for sand. I can't seem to hold onto them all. They slip through my fingers.

These times with my children are so precious to me. I wish I could capture every story they dream up, wish I could save every picture they draw, wish so much I could recall every reason behind that belly~laugh. These days are so fleeting.

If there is one memory I wish to cling to more than anything it would be the times the girls and Rob and I cuddle up and just talk.

These times are usually right before bed, with their little eyes nearly closing after a full day of fun, or in the mornings during our devotion time as a family. Though there be plenty of room to spread out, each girl must be in one of our laps curled up with a blanket.

"Daddy, do you remember what your first memory was?"

"Mommy, what was your favorite toy when you were little?"

They talk about their dreams.What will life be like when they "grow up". Who they will marry, what they will do with their lives. ( Morgan has informed us that being a drummer with pink hair lies in her future and that she will be some sort of philanthropist giving all of her earnings to the poor, and Paige told us just recently that God wants her to be a missionary, even though she doesn't really want to ...funny)

Sometimes Rob will get out his guitar and we will sing lullabies until their eyelids are too heavy to hold open; the yawns replacing their pretty melody. Soon they bury down into their cozy pillows.

These times with them are precious to me, and countless others.

But, if I could choose only one memory out of all these precious ones it would be when they talk to me about the Lord.

Their desire to know Him and obey Him astonishes their dad and me.
Astonishes!

I can't begin to explain to you how much of these bedside chats and these cozy mornings with them warm this mommy's heart.

I feel that in this one thing I can identify with Jesus' own mother who upon witnessing the wonder that followed the birth of the Messiah, " treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart."

They are truly a treasure and they are mine to be cherished forever. It causes my own heart to explode in worship to a God who created the universe and yet is close enough to whisper His love and His truth into the hearts of my little girls.

To watch their journey with God has been and will forever be one of the greatest experiences of my life.

I couldn't help but envision this morning as I listened to them lift up their own praise in the form of requests to God that heaven was smiling.

I know that I couldn't contain mine.

More than these

2009-09-30T05:15:00.000-07:00

I have always had this love hate relationship with the Disney movie, "Mary Poppins".

I love how Mary brings such joy and life back into a typical dysfunctional, off-target family. I love Julie Andrews. Love the scene with Uncle Albert and Bert rising to the ceiling and having a good laugh over tea. Love it when they pop into a chalk drawing and spend the day riding merry-go-round ponies and saving that poor fox.

I hate. HATE the ending.

I hate that Mary leaves without ever saying a word of goodbye. I have watched that movie nearly a dozen or so times and the ending is always the same. Mary leaves on the wind with nary a look back. I can remember even as a child thinking "That's it? No closure?"

What I would have loved to have seen is what those poor little children did when they got home to see Mary had gone! Left them! Without even saying goodbye! There would be tears, I tell you! Wouldn't be such a happy ending then WOULD IT?!

I think that is why I love that Jesus, after His resurrection , appears to the disciples. I am so glad that He gave them (and us) some closure. Imagine if it had ended with Jesus dying on the cross; that horrible death, then seeing that He had risen, but leaving without saying His goodbyes! Am I alone in this??

Sure, it must have been quite scary at first. Obviously they were more than a little scared already since they were all together, hiding, with the door locked in fear of the Jews. He showed them his scars, gave them a word of exhortation. "Forgive." Awesome.

He went as far as to give Thomas the closure that He needed in his weak faith.

I love all of these scenes. Love the time He had with Mary in the garden. Love it.

But, I will say that a scene that has captured me of late has to be the one where Jesus and Peter are sitting together finishing breakfast ( yes, finishing BREAKFAST). Jesus turns to Peter and says, "Simon, son of John, do you love me more than these?"

I often am too quick to move onto Peter's answer, which was an emphatic, "Yes, Lord!"

I have reflected of late on what Jesus was addressing when He said , "more than these". What or whom was He refering to? We know that the men were fishing by the Sea of Tiberias and so they must have been sitting by the shore together after having breakfast. What was Jesus looking at as He asked this question? I have only to guess that He was speaking of the fellow disciples. His brothers. His family.

Jesus asks this question to Peter three times and in three different ways, and always with the same answer by Peter. He grows more emphatic each time. I am stuck on the first time, however.

" More than these?"

I can relate to this scenario right now.

I feel that this is the burning question right now. I feel that Jesus is asking this of me.

" Annie, do you love me more than these?"

These...

mom. dad. sister. brother and sister in law. ministry. students. friends. image. home. security. future. children. finances...and yes, even closure.

The answer so often is a quick and resounding, "Yes, Lord!" Only to be met by daily struggles to let them go. It is a new chapter in our lives. We are moving on. We are saying goodbye to what was and even who we were and not just saying it. But living it. Walking it. Shouting it. Crying it.

I am thankful for a God who is real enough to sit with His disciples, make them breakfast and give them what they need to prepare them for the next part of their journey. I am sure in the days and years to come they clung to every word that He said to them in these poignant scenes.

I am thankful that this same God cares enough about me to challenge me to do what comes next, emphatic about the state of my heart enough to continue asking me to give up more in order to gain that which will never die.

I pray that I am a good student of this lesson, Lord.

"After saying this He said to him ( Peter), "Follow me." John 21:19

Walkabout- Tracing the Songlines

2009-09-01T07:13:00.000-07:00

"God? What are you doing?"

I am pretty sure that question has been bouncing around in my head now for the last few months. I had just never uttered it out loud. I did the other day. I leaned in on my sink and peered into my reflection and said it out loud. Silence. Then this,
"I am taking you on a walk about."

Clearly, not the answer I was expecting. A walkabout? What was that? I pulled from the far recesses of my mind. ( Yes, frightening) and remembered hearing something about this in a recent movie that I had watched.

A walk about.

A journey. A spiritual journey. Here's what the wikipedia said about it...

"Walkabout refers to a rite of passage where male Australian Aborigines would undergo a journey during adolescence and live in the wilderness for a period as long as six months. In this practice they would trace the paths, or "songlines", that their people's ceremonial ancestors took, and imitate, in a fashion, their heroic deeds. Merriam-Webster, however, defines the noun as a 1908 coinage that refers primarily to "a short period of wandering bush life engaged in by an Australian aborigine as an occasional interruption of regular work."

I won't soon forget the look on Rob's face the night I came home from an outing with some ladies from church. I had never seen him look like that before. Head bent over his bible. Guitar out. He looked up at me and I saw the tears.

"What?"

" Annie, God wants me to say something tomorrow. It's different from the message that I had planned. It is from God. I might loose my job."

Gulp.

"K..."

I didn't hear much of his message on that next day. My heart was thundering in my ears too much. What I remember was him saying was that he couldn't pretend anymore and that he was dry and wanted more. I remember him talking about getting honest with God and not playing church. I remember kneeling with him on the front pew and looking up for a moment to see all 250 people in the room on their knees. " God of this City" was playing. The air was thick with something. People were crying. Husbands and wives were on their knees praying. Our precious teens. One man lying on the floor and another embracing him.

For about a week things were amazing. People were talking about revival and getting honest. Honest about sin, honest about thier homes, honest about their desire to appear perfect.

Then, out of nowhere it happened. The first rumor. Where did it come from?

"Rob wants to take over the church. He's ambitious. He's too passionate. He is going to take over the church."

What?

The enemy. It has to be. It is. We went from being on our knees to being at each other's throats and in and instant everything was lost in a puff of smoke.

One thing led to another. And another and another. Things unraveled so fast that my head is still spinning. Meetings. Phone calls. Accusations. Betrayal. Slander. Gossip. Destruction. SIN.

Even a suicide at our front door step didn't get the attention of our people. No one would listen. No one would hear. More meetings. Confusion.

Rob and I would go to our church on Saturday evenings with our two precious girls and we would weep and we would cry out to God to cleanse and heal and break and unite.

God heard us. He answered. Not in the way that I expected.

I wanted to be in on it. I wanted God to show up. To show off. I wanted to witness the transforming work of His healing power and restoration.

We went away for a few weeks. Two of the weeks were planned. The third week was all God. Our car broke down in New York and we were faced with this time of dependency on others and a complete visual of what the Lord was asking us to do. Our landlord called and told us that he was selling our house. We asked God for clarity and He spoke. This time it was clear as day. Released.

" I order your steps."

Rob resigned on a Wednesday. There was peace in the midst of the unknown. There was laughter mingled in with our tears. To let go of a dream and to relinquish it is both a frightening task and a liberating one. I can't really explain it.

We obeyed God. It wasn't neat. It wasn't pretty. It was downright messy. But, we obeyed.

So, right now we are on a walk about with God. Tracing songlines of our ancestors. Taking a faith walk. Praying that we would be faithful in this new task of waiting and as we walk this unknown path that we would learn more of ourselves and more of our God and that we would come through it changed.

We are broken. We are not lost.

"For the Lord is a God of justice; blessed are those who wait for Him. He will surely be gracious to you at the sound of your cry. As soon as He hears it, He answers you. And though the Lord give you the bread of adversity and the water of affliction, yet your Teacher will not hide himself anymore, but your eyes shall see your Teacher. And your ears shall hear a word behind you, saying, ' This is the way, walk in it', when you turn to the right or when you turn to the left." Isaiah 30:18-21

I John 4:7-10

2009-04-22T07:25:00.001-07:00

Paige brought this to me today... these are her words.

A Lovely Rose

In Bethlehem a seed was planted.

A seed of love to take sin away.

I think the farmer knew what he was doing.

When he planted the seed into the earth.

And I think Mary knew, this seed was a rose, a lovely rose.

This rose began to grow.

And thorns it bore.

It's color red, blood red.

I think the rose knew what was in store when he grew on the sinful earth.

I think this rose was a sin free rose, a lovely rose.

And as storm clouds began to crowd, this rose bore pain without a doubt.

And it hung upon the cross.

His life laid down and then he died...for me.

And in the grave, he lay for three days.

Then, this rose was free, free from death.

I think he went to heaven and left the earth.

To see his father's face and come back home.

I think this rose was a great rose, a lovely rose.

Why I am glad to be an American by: Paige Phillips

2009-03-31T07:41:00.000-07:00

I am glad to be
part of the American family.
We're free to pray,
in our own way.
We can laugh, we can weep,
we can climb mountains steep.

We can do anything we wish to.
To those by me gratitude who fought to help us be free.
They've helped us so much as far as I can see.

And that is why I am glad to be,
part of the American family.

The Tide

2009-02-24T05:46:00.000-08:00

I don't like to think about death. It is not my favorite topic. But it does happen. Inevitably I must think about it. Whether it be because I am faced with it by the means of loosing someone that I have lost, or have heard about someone dying, or whether it will be because I must face that one day I too, will die.

It is strange to talk about death. Especially, I think, with children. It is almost as if you don't want them to have to think about the idea of life being short or fleeting or as the bible says, "a vapor."

The topic came up the other day. It's not like I have never approached this subject with the girls before, but this time it was different. This time it was there in front of them.

We were walking the beach in St. Augustine this last weekend. It was a gorgeous night. The sun was just setting, so the sky was the color of pink sherbet with purple swirls running through. The wind was whipping our hair about us and the temp was starting to drop so we were snuggling together, squealing as the icy Atlantic would nip at our toes with the splash of a wave. It was a lovely night.

Then, we stumbled upon what at first looked to be a giant rock. Upon closer examination we discovered that this rock had a large X on it. This giant rock turned out to be a dead sea turtle.

It was the first time that I had, of course ever been up that close to a real sea turtle. I had only ever seen one through a chain link fence at the zoo.

At first, the girls were thrilled to be seeing a real, LIVE sea turtle, only to answer with horror upon hearing from their daddy that this beautiful turtle was in fact, dead.

"DEAD!" They both inadvertently covered their mouths in horror. It couldn't be dead. There must be some other explanation. It was just resting, or just so old that it couldn't move very fast. No, their daddy now had them in his arms. It was dead. Gone.

The conversation for the rest of our walk on the beach was an interesting one. It was a perfect time to talk about the inevitable.

I wish I could capture their hearts on this page and recite to you the conversation that came after, but they are forever locked in my heart.

What I will say is that I remember thinking of how fleeting life is. I remember hearing Rob say to them that if there were no end to this life that life in and of itself would not be precious. That it would not be special. I thought that was beautiful.

Of course, for me. For us, there is hope in death. There is life in death. There is no fear in death. Death means new life for us. Death has been swallowed up in victory. Death, where is your sting?

It brings about thoughts of thankfulness to the One who has conquered death and the cross for me to have that hope.

The tide was coming in, which was yet another reminder to me of the seasons and moments of life, so we washed off our feet and headed home. The memory of that time of the beach with my little girls, forever etched in my heart.

Yes, death is inevitable. Yes, it happens. It will to me, and it will to you. I have to face it, look at it, and examine it. But it doesn't have to be hopeless. It is as much a part of my journey as anything is and it makes my time here and the days I have with those I love, beautiful.

"Thanks be to God for His indescribable gift!"

My Funny Valentine

2009-02-15T14:07:00.001-08:00

Our Funny Valentine... Morgan Faith Phillips turned 7 yesterday. She has brought laughter and joy and funny stories and headaches and drama and absolute beauty into my life and to all who meet her. She is lovely in ever sort of way. I am so thankful to God for the miracle of her life and for the honor of being her mommy. She loves to celebrate LIFE. She has stolen my heart in every way. She skips through this house and sings in the shower and laughs heartily and cries if you laugh at her. She is sensitive and dramatic and cuddly and tough. Her favorite jeans have a patch in the butt and two large holes in the knees. She bubbles over with joy. She loves animals and is a mommy to anyone or anything that is smaller than her. She loves family and barbies and to dress up in her mommy's shoes. She is one of the coolest people I know. Happy Birthday, Morgan
"You make me smile with my heart..." -frank sinatra ( my funny valentine)

God and Chocolate

2009-01-29T09:21:00.000-08:00

Morgan is my sugar baby. She always has been. She is always sneaking into the candy jar where I have hidden bribes...err...lolipops stashed. She loves it!

As I was cleaning up from breakfast the other morning she walked in with a piece of Ghirardelli chocolate that I had received at a baby shower a few days before. ( hidden, so I thought). She batted her eyes at me and smiled shyly, "momma, can I have some of this yummy chocolate?".

Normally, I would find her hard to resist, but not this day. I shook my head and said she must wait until at least lunch. ( mother of the year..)

She seemed pleased with that and stashed her treasure somewhere only she knows and that was that.

I fully expected that she might forget, but not this child. She happily brought in her chocolate after lunch and said, "NOW?"

I smiled and said she could. She then opened it as she bounced up and down happily. She looked at me knowingly and said, " You know, mom, the two things I love the most in this world is chocolate and God."

I put my head back and laughed so hard! She laughed too, but I am assuming only because I was laughing. She had stated it with such rare honesty.

I have been thinking of that over the last few days. How simple. How refreshing. My little girl truly does love God. I have watched her fall more and more in love with Him. It is astounding really. He is apart of her life in every way. She doesn't have to have a degree in Theology to know that what she knows about Him, she loves. He is right up there with her love for chocolate!

I know it might sound childish, but that really is the point. I spend so many hours in my day, in my week, weighing out TRUTH and what I THINK I know about God and His kingdom and what pleases Him and how to vote and how to love and how to love Him... the list goes on.

My little one just DOES. That is essentially why I think Jesus was so attracted to children. Why He tells us to be like them when approaching the kingdom of heaven.

I think it is so important to be studying and learning and grappling, but there is something so sweet about the scene with Jesus asking the disciples not to turn the children away from Him. I have always loved that part of scripture and so glad that it is in there. He knew that we complicate it so much with our doctrine and our ideology. It is so simple. Love me. Believe in me, and you will see God.

I pray that I will keep it simple and follow my little one's example.

"Blessed are the pure in heart: for they shall see God."

Holding onto these moments

2009-01-14T11:36:00.000-08:00

"I have really been through a lot for just nine years!"

That line was spoken to me by the lips of my baby girl. My eldest daughter, Paige this afternoon. We had just had a picnic lunch at the park and had just paid a visit to the local Target in search of the perfect toy. We scoured the aisles of the toy section. I was doing my best to be patient as my choloric daughter paced the aisles. Up and down and up and down looking for the perfect birthday gift. After about an hour ( I am not kidding) she was wringing her hands and had picked up a barbie only to put it back down again a moment later. "Are you mad?" she said wringing her hands. " No," I replied, " just anxious for you to pick out something that you REAALLLY want."

I then stated, half knowing the answer, " Do you want to look at the shoe aisle?" Her eyes lit up. " Yes! I would totally LOVE some shoes!" Totally.

I walked out of the toy aisle feeling that in that split second she had not just moved from the barbies to the shoe aisle, she was becoming a little lady. I know this might sound extremely dramatic to you, and perhaps I am overthinking it, but I couldn't help but think that as we passed by those barbies and stuffed animals and play-dough that those toys were waving goodbye to me. A scene from Toy Story causing a tear to get stuck in my throat.

I looked over at my lanky, lovely nine year old jumping up and down over a pair of trendy boots that she "Must have", and thought that this is just the begining. She is really going to grow up and I must face it and must embrace it and must love the changes happening to her and in her.

I must say that the memory of holding this tiny bundle in my arms for the first time is begining to feel like a million years ago. The feel of her snuggled in my arms a dream. I can't believe all those old ladies in the grocery store were right. YOu know those women. When you have a baby strapped to you and a toddler tugging on your legs and throwing herself in a heap in the middle of the store and that older woman would smile that smile. She would pat my hand and say," enjoy them now. they grow so fast."

Fast? It feels like warp speed!! They were right! When did this happen? How do I slow this down?

I am resigned today ( okay everyday) that I will squeeze all the love and joy and moments out of today. Today. What can I do to make today a sweet, precious memory so that it is mine forever?

Oh, that I don't miss one smile, one giggle, one goodnight kiss, one more book at bedtime, one tear, one dance to music, one opportunity to play a game. One late night talk. These are mine with her. Nothing can take them from me.

Thank you, dear God! This gift of life and love is a treasure from you! May I never forget that all things are yours and you have lent them to me to enjoy and to cherish!

Happy Birthday, Paigey. YOu have made life sweet, and full and memorable. I am a better person thanks to you!

Thanks for making me a mommy.

2009-01-12T10:22:00.001-08:00

Oh...Angelina...

2009-01-12T07:11:00.000-08:00

So, as of late I have been reading a book, and watching several programs and even some movies that have disgruntled middle aged women who are angry and bitter over there "wasted" life. These are typically mothers who have "sacrificed" their time and thier energy and thier careers to be an at home mom. I remember from a recent movie, Diane Keaton saying to her grown son, "what have I to even show for my life? I haven't accomplished ANYTHING of value."

This is really starting to tick me off...

I thought about this long and hard and wondered for one thing if there might ever be a time in my life that I look back on these days and think, "ugh. I wasted my time, abilities, career for what? For this?"

I don't know. Maybe I will. Maybe I am tempted to do that on any given day. When I think about the lady that works the high paying, high risk job, who is able to use all of her God-given abilities and gifts to make a huge difference in this world, I have to stop and think of my own life. What do I really think about this?

There certainly are those women who have it all...like Angelina. She does the mommy thing and is also an ambassador for World Relief somthing or other....

Am I wasting my life?

I have sat looking at the computer screen for a full five minutes. I want to be honest. I don't want to sound cliche. I don't want to spiritualize this. I know the right answer.

I am sitting here in my office wearing sweaty clothes from my recent walk and my hair is an absolute mess and my eyeliner from last night has made me look like an honest to goodness racoon. I have a dirty house, my kids need a shower, there is laundry to be done, schoolwork to be completed, dishes in my sink and beds to be made. And after I am done cleaning it all up, it will be there for me tomorrow morning. Some girls have a fairy godmother, mine is just mean. She does the opposite. She creates more work.

But, you know. I wouldn't change my life for all of the STUFF in the world. I was just outside wathching my girls riding thier bikes with the sun hitting thier precious faces, and the wind catching thier hair. They looked really happy. Really happy. They looked like children.

I am a better, stronger, woman because of being a mother. I am not well-read, but I am loved. I am cherished. I am needed.

I can't think of a better way to "waste" my life than this...

A New Heart

2009-01-06T16:51:00.000-08:00

At bedtime last night, Dylan Scott Fischer accepted Jesus as his saviour... in his words, " I have a new heart..."

Could anything in life be sweeter than knowing that those that come behind us as falling in love with Jesus.

I look at this picture of this precious boy. My nephew. And I pray . I pray that God would use Him and work in Him and protect Him and continue to draw him to Himself.

"I have no greater joy than to know that my children walk in TRUTH."

How fitting...How beautiful

2009-01-05T12:21:00.000-08:00

I met a lady today that shares my name. It was an unexpected meeting. I was singing for a ladies fellowship. A christian women's club. Something maybe two years ago I would not have done. I am a bit of a cynic when it comes to ladies' fellowships. Maybe I am a snob. Maybe I am too worried about what other's think, but ladies scare me. They intimidate me, and I am not so easily intimidated. I have sung for these Christian women's clubs before and had in the past felt that it didn't accomplish much FOR ME...

But, then came the dreaded question by a lady that I love too dearly to turn down. It was last year and maybe she caught me on a good day, for I surely must have been feeling very sweet and kind when I responded to her question as to the availability in my "schedule" (laugh) to sing for them. I resounded with a smile and a hearty "Oh, I would LOOOOVVEEE too."

I was grumbling as I woke up this morning. I had 13 precious friends over yesterday for lunch and the dishes were piled high in the sink and today was Rob's day off of all things, and...ugh.

Maybe this is just me, but I to wonder what the Lord thinks when I act this way...

I was reminded as I climbed into my car and raced down the road as I was putting on my lipstick that my New Years Resolution ( even though I hate them) this year was to do things I don't normally do. To not always say, "No" to things that I don't want to do, or don't have time for. To try new things. Things that will make me better. Maybe today would be like a fitting begining to that creed.

So, I walked into the meeting place feeling good. Feeling ready. Feeling proud to be fulfilling my New Year's resolution so soon.

I had only been there maybe five minutes when the sweet lady who was taking care of my needs introduced me to the other ladies at my table. She turned to her left and said, "And this is my best friend, Annie". Well, I quickly stated that I loved her name and it wasn't long before this lovely, engaging, witty, funny lady and I struck up a conversation. There are those people that you come across in life that you like immediatly. Annie was one of those. I liked her.

After sharing with me some of HER journey of life as a missionary to Hawaii and New Mexico, she leans into me and says, " This trip to Florida is a treat to myself. See, I was recently diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and I begin my treatments in two days."

I am usually pretty quick in witty responses, but I am not ashamed to tell you that I was without words. She winked at me then and said that she is in God's hands and that He holds her life and that she has peace in the midst of the uncertainty. She has inoperable tumors and she shrugged her shoulders and said that she wouldn't have the surgery even if she could. She says that she wants to enjoy her life and to trust God.

Hmmm...

I couldn't stop looking at her and listening and chatting and looking at pictures of her 17 year old daughter, and just being with her.

At the end of our time together she asked if I would put some songs together for her to listen to while she is going through chemo and I assured her that I certainly would love to do that. We exchanged email addresses and I hugged my new friend and prayed with her and we cried. Oh, tears shook her as we prayed. Tears wouldn't stop flowing as I left today. I didn't care who saw me leave with my mascara leaving streaks down my face.

I couldn't help thinking about this entire situation as I drove home. I was somber. I was moved. I was changed.

I know, now more than ever, that I don't belong here, that my heart longs for something more, for my home in heaven, that this temopral, fleeting world and life is just the begining. That this time here is a journey, a moment, a mist. But, today was a reminder. An in-your-face one. I was so glad that I met Annie. So glad that I shared her name and even more so, praying that I would be like her. That I would hold onto my life loosely and yet cling to the One who holds it all together.

I am renewd in my desire to learn all that I can on this journey and to meet as many diverse, and beautiful, and even sometimes "complex" people (like me!) that I possibly can. I want to learn and read and travel and try new things so that I can present myself to my God in the best way that I can. I want to cherish every moment, thank God for every breath, and never say "no" to something just because it might scare me, or not meet someone new because they might intimidate me. My desire is to live richly, deeply and passionatly for the glory of God.amen and amen. :)

The start to my journey in blog land...

2009-01-03T20:58:00.000-08:00

This is the first time I have attempted to write a blog. I have been seriously tempted over the last few years to start one up, and then after reading others blogs, I would become so incredibly insecure about my ability to be witty, or smart, or well-read that I would talk myself out of it completly.

Now, mind you, I am certainly not saying that I have become more accomplished in any of these areas of my life. In fact, I am quite certain that I will never be really witty, and that as far as being well- read...

My latest read was from my first graders early reading book.

I occasionally watch Oprah while folding laundry and my current events knowledge is sad to say the least.

I hope to get from this little blog a way to keep up with the daily and happy occurrences in my house. They are to me, the greatest stories in the world and I am so glad that I did this...

I think...