Ponyboy and that Firstborn Son

While sitting in Mr. Baudino's AP literature class in high school, I had visions of sitting in his chair instead of my own.  I had dreams of being the one to make weeping students memorize Hamlet's 'To Be or Not To Be' Soliloquy or have them scratch out drawings of Huck's adventures.

I had it all mapped out.  I was going to be an English teacher.  Students would come to love literature and realize just how much fun it could be. Years later, I finished my English degree and became certified to teach at the secondary level.

While doing my student teaching, I fell head over heels for my first group of kids.  They were a hilarious bunch of 8th graders who made fun of me when I pronounced their last names incorrectly and smiled sweetly at me as I stumbled my way through my first lessons.

My first unit was on The Outsiders by S. E. Hinton.  It is a coming of age novel set in a world where the Greasers are at war with the Socialites. Ponyboy, the main character, has a lot to learn when the real and broken world is thrown at him at the ripe old age of 14.  As a class, we dissected a poem by Robert Frost referenced in The Outsiders, entitled, "Nothing Gold Can Stay."

Nature’s first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

I loved sharing the unit with kids I had come to love.

And then the sickness began.

My stomach issues would just not let up.  I told Mrs. Davis (the amazing English teacher I was student teaching under) that there was something totally and completely wrong with me.

I think you are pregnant, she said. 

I started taking pregnancy test after pregnancy test but they all came back negative. Eric encouraged me to go see Dr. Cole.  Blood doesn't lie. We were expecting our first baby!

Now God had plans a little different than my own.  I was going to teach for a few years and then have babies and then probably quit to stay home with them.  God said, no.  You are having a baby now and you aren't going to use this degree in the way you think you will. I had that first baby, then a few more over the years because motherhood became my new-found passion. I never looked back and I never regretted not entering the field of teaching. (All hats off to you amazing teachers...so grateful for your calling and your unending investment into the future generation!)

Enter a couple of nights ago.  I went into that now 8th grade firstborn son's room to throw some clean clothes onto his bed.  He was sitting in his chair, curled up with none other than The Outsiders.  My breath was almost taken away as I marveled at how fast time can fly.  Wasn't it just yesterday that I was teaching that novel and finding out about his arrival? I went back into my room with equal parts joy, hysteria, and nostalgia. 

Hug your babies. Hug them tightly. 

Nothing gold can stay...

When Sovereignty is all that Remains

 

 

While digging through some old things today, I came across these words that Eric wrote 5 years ago. When he wrote them, he had no idea that his father would one day be diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer.  This summer, I have fallen even deeper in love with this man of mine as I have watched him be a source of strength and stability for his family through this time of confusion, pain, and heartache. 

 

Eric still believes what he wrote all those years ago...and leads our family with these principles as well.  I can't get over how blessed I am to call him mine.

 

Our prayer for Herb is complete healing and restoration of his physical body while here on earth.  We know without a doubt that the Lord can simply speak "BE GONE!" and every single cancer cell will flee his body.  But, we also rest in the fact that God's ways are so much higher than our own.  His sovereign (and good) plan is what enables us to sleep at night and keeps us from despair during the day.  We rest in that goodness...no matter what that plan looks like.

 

I thought Eric's words might bring encouragement in whatever you are facing, too.

 

When Sovereignty is all that remains… An interesting thought isn’t it? One which I spend quite a bit of time thinking on these days. It has been brought close to home in our lives. I have found it opens up our "soul door" for many strong emotions. Fear. Uncertainty. Faithlessness. Abject vulnerability. Anger. Control. Personally, I find my greatest “emotional warring” with God at this place - where His sovereignty invades my life.

It seems over the last several months, God has let me see scripture from this perspective as well. Let me share an example, from the story of Abraham. In Genesis 15, Abraham and God have an interesting discussion.

 Let me summarize: Abraham: God all this stuff is great, but I do not have a son, so how am I going to be a great nation? Right now it looks like a servant in my household will inherit all this.

God: Know this, your servant will not inherit my promise, but a son will inherit everything I will give you. In fact, go outside and look up - your descendants will be like the stars in the sky.

Abraham: God, that sounds great, how can I trust you, because it has not happened yet?

Here is where I want to get, verses 13-16: "Then the LORD told Abram (in a vision), 'You can be sure your descendants will be strangers in a foreign land, and they will be oppressed as slaves for four hundred years. But I will punish the nation that enslaves them, and in the end they will come away with great wealth. (But you will die in peace, at a ripe old age.) After four generations your descendants will return here to this land, when the sin of the Amorites has run its course."

God's response to Abram's question of how do I trust: Sovereignty. My response to God would have been along the lines of "I thought we were talking about making me into a great nation. Is there a better way to spend the next 400 years? Have I messed up what we are doing? What can I do to get a different plan put in place here God?" Abram's response? Silence. In fact, as the remainder of the story unfolds in Genesis, you never read any questioning of this sovereign plan.

We live in a culture and society where the matter of sovereignty can exist as a theological abstract, yet we are able to move about our lives utterly removed from God's sovereignty in our daily lives.

Of course, we occasionally bump into sovereignty here and there, especially when life gets uncomfortable. But once we pull on our “levers of control”, which our rational, technical culture provide us, well then, we can quaintly go back to engaging God as we want. You know, A+B=C. God, I give regularly each month, I expect.....(fill in the blank). Or, God we are seeking you, why won't you remove us from......(fill in the blank). We like the formula of God I do this, therefore, You do this. It is an equation we can count on, trust in, utilize, call upon – in summary: Control.

Reality is this – He is not there, is He? He does not inhabit those equations of control we try to know Him in. God will not be known that way. As Mr. Tumnus says in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, "after all, he isn't a safe Lion."

Let's bring this home. Have you watched a friend or parent waste away with cancer to a former image of themselves? How about losing a sibling or a child to suicide? What about a business failure, or an extended period of being without a job? A friend who betrays deeply? A spouse that cheats, either physically or emotionally? A child that chooses a life of rebellion?

Do we see God's sovereignty in the midst of it, or do we equate that something is "wrong" in our lives and needs fixing? That we have somehow gotten on God's wrong side and we need to pull the proper levers to get this situation changed. Somewhere we have broken the equation, have gotten an 'M' substituted for either the 'A' or the 'B'.

Let me ask this: What if nothing is wrong? What if God's answer is, "know this, I have brought this about so that my glory will be made known in your sickness", or perhaps, "I have you in the desert because this is the season for the desert."

The Psalmist says, “Our God is in the heavens, he does as he pleases,” (Psalm 115:3). Daniel 4:35 states, "All the peoples of the earth are regarded as nothing. He does as he pleases with the powers of heaven and the peoples of the earth. No one can hold back his hand or say to him: 'What have you done?'"

At those times, we come face to face with Yahweh, the Creator of all things. The One who holds all things together. He who sets kings on thrones and deposes them. He who raises up nations and brings them down. He who grants wealth and poverty. He who set the boundaries for the seas and storehouses of snow. He who cares for widows and orphans. He who left His throne to redeem those He loves. He whose kingdom will never end. He who is simply – I AM.

When sovereignty is all that remains, we must be sifted and broken till we are content with God being God and that being enough for us. Why you ask? It is there we find Him.

When the Heart is Homesick

I pause to take a breath and feel myself longing.  I can't even put into words what I am longing for other than home.  A home I have never been to before.  I look around and know I wasn't made for this.  The stressful schedule, the chemo and radiation aftereffects and heartache, the holding of my breath when I see my Dad's leg so swollen, the beheading of my sisters and brothers....I know deep down plague, pestilence, and pain weren't part of the original design.

Sojourners. Settlers with a place to dwell with no rights of citizenship.  Strangers.  Aliens. Pilgrims.  Visitors.

Do you ever get the eerie feeling that we just don't belong here?

I am homesick.  Sick for a place that won't allow sickness.  Sick for a home that I have never laid eyes on.  Sick for a Savior that made it all possible.

I feel like we are in the end days.  Technically, the end days started during the ministry of Jesus.  But, I feel like we are at the end of the end.  That brings such hope...that home awaits!

It also stirs up something else in this soul. Repentance.  If I truly will see my Father soon, is everything right between us?  Did I steward His money well?  Did I treat His children with grace and kindness? Did I use my gifts and time for His glory instead of trying to make a name for myself?  Did I choose the Spirit over the weak flesh?

I so badly want to run into His arms and hear him whisper, Well Done.

Rosh Hashanah (Jewish New Year) as well as the Shemitah (Jewish Sabbatical Year) begins next Tuesday, September 24th.  This time of year always makes me a little more homesick.  Perhaps this will be the year my faith becomes my eyes.

Rosh Hashanah ushers in a 10 day period of prayer, self examination, and repentance.  You might say, ummm, I am not Jewish and not under the law.  Maybe so, but Jesus was Jewish and Peter under the new covenant said this:  "Dear friends, since you are foreigners and temporary residents [in the world], I'm encouraging you to keep away from the desires of your corrupt nature. These desires constantly attack you." 1 Peter 2:11

May He find us faithful. A few more steps and we just might be there...

Happy 9th!

This big boy is 9. I can hardly stand it. He loves music and I am praying God gives him a heart of worship and the gift to lead others in worship. Sam is such a joy to our family. He keeps us in stitches for sure. We are so thankful God blessed us with him! 

The Counterfeit Garden

My mini garden (aka: front yard landscaping) is a hodgepodge of whatever the previous owner left behind.  Lucky me, that includes Lantana and Gerbera daisies.

I noticed the craziest thing this summer.  Despite our efforts of spraying a bunch of weed killer and laying down fresh mulch, the weeds still come right up.  But what really blew my mind is that the weeds take on the form of whatever they are growing besides.  Right beside the yellow Gerbera daisies sprouted weeds that had very similar leaves and even long yellow flowers!  Right beside our fern thingy came up a weed that looked eerily similar.  Now, since I don't have a green thumb, I really had to get on my hands and knees and sort through what was real and what was counterfeit.

I've contemplated a lot about the Osteens and other Christian leaders that throw in just enough scripture to make their platitudes sound true.  But, what if they are not the real deal?  What if they are just yellow weeds that look like yellow Gerbera daisies?

I have thought about slander and how my words can cast someone in a negative light.  I don't want to do that here.  What I want is to tell all believers to be cautious.  One of the sneakiest places the enemy can show up is the pulpit, mixing just enough truth with lies that he stumps our little minds and knows if it sounds true, then he has us in defeat and chains. It is the very tactic he used on Eve in the garden. It is so imperative that we know our Bible for ourselves, not simply based on what someone tells us on Sunday mornings or a television channel. Get on your hands and knees and sort through what is counterfeit; the Holy Spirit will show you what is real!

I recently read a status update from a friend in college that totally berated evangelicals and my heart just tore.  She loved Jesus big back then.  What along the way has disillusioned her beliefs?  I pray and pray and beg God to show Himself to her in the true way.

I've thought about my own life and how I am thankful I am not in the spotlight where my words and actions can be dissected under a magnifying glass.

But that isn't really the case, is it?  We all are a witness to whether or not God is who He says He is. We are all representing the King and influencing someone.

God is so brave, to enter into us and expect mere humans to be a part of the display of His Kingdom.

So brave.

On my prayer journey, I have felt led to pray for the Saints (hagios: set apart, sacred, different...) to be convicted of hidden and open sins.  I had to start with myself, and it is a continual and daily taste of bile. Why is sin so beautiful and tasteful when you cherish it and yet so hideous when it comes out in the open? Only the light of Christ can show us what sin really looks like on us. Only Jesus can tear down the weeds and implant the true garden.

All in the Choosing

My memory is short these days.  I joke and say that I gave each kid 25% of my brain and I am now either running on fumes or laughing gas.  Those 4 kids also stole all my amazing athletic ability.  But that's another story.

I have it all planned out.  My looney house, that is.  It is going to look just like the white mansion in the movie, The Notebook.  It will overlook water, of course.  Come see me in a few, ok?

In all seriousness, God takes forgetfulness ummm, seriously.  I am not talking about when I forget to throw in an extra diaper or take out the trash.  Instead, I am referring to forgetting His acts or not being openly thankful when I see Him in action. 

Sproul says, "All that we have and all that we are we owe ultimately to the benevolence of our Creator.  To slight Him by withholding appropriate gratitude is to exalt ourselves and debase Him."  I don't want to have a short memory when it comes to remembering all He has done for me.

Sproul brings up something I had never considered before.  He said that in the story of the ten lepers, most preachers will tell you how when Jesus healed them, only one was grateful.  He calls that nonsense because as a leper, you would have endured not just physical misery but isolation and rejection from all of society as well.

It only makes sense that all ten lepers were grateful!  I can envision them all staring at their cleansed skin, running home to embrace their families! 

Sproul says the difference is that only one leper chose to express his thankfulness.  Only one took the time to actually give thanks.  "Then one of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back, praising God with a loud voice; and he fell on his face at Jesus' feet, giving him thanks."  (from Luke 17) 

We should take the time to really pause and turn away from whatever holds our attention and offer up thanksgiving.  (Don't you know the thankful leper wanted to run home but instead took the time to praise!)

Make me a woman who remembers and blesses you continually, Father.  Your affection and grace toward me are everlasting.

"If God never grants us another glimpse of His glory in this life, if He never grants us another request, if He never gives us another gift from the abundance of His grace, we still would be obligated to spend the rest of our lives thanking Him for what He already has done.  We have already been blessed enough to be moved daily to thanksgiving.  Nevertheless, God continues to bless us." {from "Does Prayer Change Things? by RC Sproul}

Favorite Things

It's that time again!  Time for a few of my favorite things!  Now I am not a high maintenance or very materialistic person...personally I can't wait until the earth's elements are burned by fire so we can get a new heaven and a new earth where nothing breaks or rots!  In the meantime, I want to celebrate a few little things that bring a smile until we are there! Hopefully, some of these things will save you money in the long run or make your life a little easier!

 

1.  Fajitas!  Nothing makes me happier than prancing myself into a Mexican restaurant and eating a truckload of fajitas. With 5 people now eating off of the adult menu, we choose not to eat out too often!  Enter this recipe!  All the ingredients bake together in the same glass pan.  I can whip it up while the boys are doing homework, and wham-bam, it's a fiesta.  On a school night.  Shut the front door.  Here is the link to the recipe. We like to throw in a little steak, too. 

 

 



2. Vintage Prayer Journal--God was so sweet to let me lay eyes on this little beauty of a journal.  It just makes me want to write things down and start talking to the Father all about it! It is always a blessing to go back and see what He has answered.  Faithful and good.

3.  Headbands!  These mean I don't have to wash my hair so they are my new BFF.  Now, I am the type of gal who usually hates things like sunglasses and headbands because they squeeze my ears half to death and I wind up with a tension headache.  But, this headband company called Banded 2gether is the real deal. They even stay put!  Best of all, each headband you purchase provides meals for children in Uganda.

4. Sally Hansen Miracle Gel--I hate painting my nails.  HATE IT.  I am pretty sure this is why God gave me four boys because they idea of sitting around painting my little girl's nails just doesn't appeal to me.  One of the reasons I hate it so much is that you put all that work into it and then, bam, two days later you have chippage and you are having to repent from the slew of curse words that come out of your mouth.  Enter this nail polish.  It boasts that it will stay on up to 14 days. I knew this was a stretch. So, when mine stayed on a solid 7 days, I decided that was good enough.  You have to buy the topcoat because it sets the polish and makes it super shiny!

 5.  Andrew Murray.  Born in the 1800s and knew him some Jesus and the Word!  I am really enjoying everything he wrote about, especially about prayer.  Most of his stuff is on Kindle for either free or super cheapola, like a buck.

 

6. Fixer Upper.  Oh my stars.  Best show ever. It is a home redo show on HGTV.  What sets it apart is this married couple.  They love each other, love God, use their talents for His glory, and get so much joy in creating peaceful spaces for their clients.  It is a super fun show! If you like home decor, etc, you will love Joanna's blog, too.  Find it here.

 

 

7.  Old Quilts--a friend let me use her backyard awhile back for a photo session.  She let me borrow the quilt below and I went on and on about how much I loved it.  Pretty sure my love language is old quilts.  Anyhoo, imagine my delight when she later gifted me with it!!! I have it at the foot of my bed and love looking at all the happy colors.

8.  Physician's Formula Eye Liner--I am trying to find more and more "drugstore/over the counter" makeup products I like but I usually end up wasting money because I usually hate them.  Not this one!  These liners come in a fancy packet of three and they actually work. They don't even give me raccoon eyes by the end of the day.  For $10, they are a good deal.

Favorite Reads

I have a few favorite blogs I enjoy right now and would love to share them with you!

The first is my friend Anna's blog.  She has a brand new site that screams "cozy" and "adorable!"  Anna is passionate about homeschooling, good food, creating a peaceful home, and Jesus.  She is a true encourager and I always leave her blog feeling a little bit lighter.  You can find Little Oak Table here!

The second is my friend Catherine's blog.  I used to show livestock with her husband, David, back in the daaaaay.  They have four children and live as missionaries in Malawi.  It is always fun to visit her site and see how others live.  I dare you to hop on over there and see if your gratefulness for running water doesn't rise to the surface! You can find her at Our Mustard Seed Life.

The last is my sister in law, Kelli's new site.  You used to laugh with her over at Minivans are Hot, but now she is at Kelli Stuart. If you are a creative, then this site is for you.  She is great at encouraging others to pursue their creative dreams and visions.  Although already a published author, she just released her first e-book called 30 Days to Becoming a Writer.  Click on the title to buy the e-book!

What is your favorite blog right now?

The Persecution of Jesus Himself

I would have loved to have been a fly on the wall when the Holy Spirit anointed Stephen to speak boldly before his accusers.  Even his face lit up with the glory of God as he addressed the Sanhedrin. He recited a beautiful rendition of God's story through the Old Testament and how Jesus was the culmination of how God was going to dwell in men. Stephen boldly tells them that they are stiff-necked, always rejecting the will and heart of the tender Father.

This enraged the Jewish leaders to no end, so they decided to get rid of him instead of ask God if there might be some truth as to what Stephen was proclaiming.

They stoned him. 

"And Saul approved of his execution."

That very day, a great persecution arose against the church. Those that called themselves part of the "Way" had to scatter in order to save themselves from persecution.

Over and over we see this Saul character and his venomous hatred spewing towards anything Christ-like or church-like.  The book of Acts tell us that he would ravage the church and break into house after house, dragging off men and women who were part of the "Way."  He would put them in prison, hoping their fate might be similar to that of Stephen's.  We can almost see his blood thirsty eyes and obsessive murderous spirit. The Word says he was always breathing threats and murder against the disciples of the Lord.

Enter a Savior whom I don't always understand.  A Savior whose mercy and grace know no bounds.  A Savior who reveals Himself to Saul so that Saul knows exactly whom he is persecuting.  A Savior who rips off the scales of Saul's eyes so that he can truly see.  A Savior who graciously brings about a name change.

"Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?"

"Who are you, Lord?"

"I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting."

Acts 9:4-5

 

 

The text is clear:  to persecute Christians is to persecute Christ Himself.

 

I think of ISIS and my brothers and sisters in Christ running for their very lives.  I have to ask myself this question:  would my prayers over them be more consuming and passionate if I really believed that it was Christ that ISIS was persecuting?

 

"Now you are the body of Christ and individually members of it." 1 Cor. 12:27

 

"The king will answer them, 'I can guarantee this truth: Whatever you did for one of my brothers or sisters, no matter how unimportant [they seemed], you did for me.' Matthew 25:40

I try and put myself in the persecuted believer's shoes and wonder what I would need most in this time?  Courage?  Food and supplies?  Ability to forgive? Shelter? Protection? This verse? 

Keep me as the apple of your eye; hide me in the shadow of your wings, from the wicked who do me violence, my deadly enemies who surround me. Psalm 17:8-9

We can pray for those being persecuted. Our prayers are effectual.

We can give.  These are just two Christian organizations that will handle resources wisely and in the name of Jesus.  The Joshua Fund.  Samaritan's Purse.

We can pray for our enemies.  The persecutors. The Sauls that God just might want to change into Pauls.  We can acknowledge that no man is too far gone or out of the realm of grace.  We can ask God to allow the scales to fall from the members of the ISIS. Galatians says it pleased God when he revealed Himself to Saul.

We can pray for the advancement of the gospel.  In the book of Acts, when the believers were scattered, they went about preaching the Word.  We can pray that through this scattering, the Gospel would advance and that God would receive glory despite the murderous tactics of the enemy.

And lastly, we can choose to remember that it isn't just people that are being persecuted.  It is Jesus Christ Himself.

I'm doing my best to let that sink in.

Tubes!

Lil bit has struggled with ear infection after ear infection. We are all set to get tubes Friday. Say a prayer over the surgery? 

When God calls the Momma back to school, too.

It all began as a prayer that started at the beginning of the summer.  Lord, please show me this summer where you want me to spend my time.  In other words, what is my specific calling over this season of my life?  I had a few ideas in mind of how I thought God would answer, but as usual, He had His own agenda.

Every once in awhile, a scripture will absolutely jump off the pages at me, speaking into the deepest part of my being.  Through these couple of verses, God would start to show me how He wanted me to use my time for His glory. 

"Do not be afraid, O worm Jacob, O little Israel, for I myself will help you, declares the LORD, your Redeemer, the Holy One of Israel.  See, I will make you into a threshing sledge, new and sharp, with many teeth.  You will thresh the mountains and crush them, and reduce the hills to chaff.  You will winnow them, the wind will pick them up, and a gale will blow them away.  But you will rejoice in the LORD and glory in the Holy One of Israel."

God was telling me I was like a worm...weak, feeble, and easily injured.  But, He was about to make me into a threshing sledge. 

Huh-wah???

The context is all about weak and small Israel and how having God on your side will be sufficient enough to trample over all your enemies.  I am defenseless on my own, but God is my strength and portion and very victory. Clark says of this passage:  "All the strength of the Israelites is in prayer-by which they smite the wicked of this world."

Through this verse and many other things God threw at my way, He was telling me my calling for this season of life is intercessory prayer.  I would be trampling down (threshing) the enemy through the act of prayer.  I even asked a friend for confirmation of my calling (without telling her I thought it was prayer) and she threw this my way:  "What do we ask of God?  We ask for a cupful when He has the entire ocean at His disposal."

I have to tell you I wasn't excited about this at first.  (I know how awful that sounds!) But, I had my own agenda and own ideas of what might bring Him glory.  So, after I surrendered my time and desires, God showed me this quote by Andrew Murray, "In intercession our King upon the throne finds His highest glory; in it we shall find our highest glory too."

I wasn't excited about this new adventure for two other reasons as well.  First, I have always felt like intercessory prayer has been part of my life...so how was this going to be new at all???  And second, I have some wounds of prayers prayed in big-time-faith that went totally awry. Those wounds made me wonder whether I could trust the heart of the Father.

Enter God calling me back to school.

The big boys would be heading back to learn all about biology, algebra, and spelling as I would be going back to learn all about prayer.

Lucky me, my little schoolhouse is all in the confines of my big comfy chair with creamer (I mean, coffee) in hand.

Andrew Murray.  Wow.  Never even heard of the guy until recently.  Super powerhouse of a Godly man.  Born in the late 1800's.  Wrote over 200 books.  Absolutely passionate about prayer and how we are to be confident in it.  God is using this man to teach me so much in my little schoolhouse.

The first thing God is hammering into my spirit is this:  "Becke', you have got to stop praying to Jesus and start praying to me, the Father.  Yes, I am Trinity, and three in one, but you have to get it out of your head that I (your Father) am not safe.  You go only to Jesus because you think He is the only one that understands you.  I am the one that loved you so greatly I sent my Son. My heart towards you is affectionate and tender and spilling over with love, more than you could ever love those four boys. Jesus broke down the walls so you could call me Father, as well.  So do it!  Start talking to me; it breaks my heart when you act like there is still a curtain that separates us."

So, lesson one in the school of prayer is to pray to the Father, in the name of Jesus, by the power of the Spirit.

The second thing I am repeating over and over to myself is this:  "EVERYONE THAT ASKS, RECEIVES."  Now, the answer might be no, but you will have an answer.  We must confidently EXPECT an answer to our prayer.

I got so tickled this morning when I saw this played out!  Asher and I took all the bigs to school and then marched ourselves into Chick Fil A for a little morning treat.  Since we don't do this often, I prayed that God might either allow me to be a blessing while in there or allow me to be blessed by someone while in there.  Imagine my delight when we walked in and the first person I saw was one of my best friends from high school and college that I haven't seen in years!  The timing couldn't have been more perfect as we got to enjoy breakfast together and catch up. 

I was asking for a blessing and I totally received one.

Well, here's to a fresh calling and a new classroom.  I can't wait to see what the Teacher has in store!

Her 31st

Happy birthday sassy sister of mine.  31 years old.  You are moving right up there into your thirties as I inch and crawl my way out of mine. Asher and I sat in our rocker this morning and sang happy birthday to you.  He clapped with joy at the end. 

I sit here with shivers and goosebumps as I feel the presence of the Lord.  I know He has enveloped you into his strong arms on this day and told you how glad He is that He created you.  You bring Him such delight and joy. All is forgiven.  All is restored. 

Please tell me what you do with all your days?  Do you glance at the Father and at this world and wonder how much longer He will tarry until He sets all things right?  Does your spirit explode with unhindered passion and joy now that you fully comprehend His fierce love for you?

I decided to kick start our Operation Christmas Child shopping in honor of your birthday.  Clothes and flip flops and 24 count colors-of-the-rainbow filled our buggy as I said prayers over the children that would be receiving the small gifts.  You always hands-on-loved the little ones that needed boogers wiped, enveloping hugs and morsels of food. You would have loved this ministry whose chief goal is to satisfy the starving soul.

Just wanted you to know you are never forgotten. 

And always missed.

Consider yourself hugged.

As the Summer Sun Sets

It wasn't supposed to go this quickly.  The summer days were cut short due to a winter blanketing of snow like we have never seen.  My Pinterest board for "summer fun activities" hasn't even been touched.  Can I get a redo?

My kids aren't perfect and I am not perfect but we do enjoy each other.  I'd love to take one more dip in the pool and make another ice cream run (or three.)  The word "homeschool" always tempts me to the core simply because I hate telling them goodbye for 7 plus hours a day.  But, alas, God and my tell-you-like-it-is husband both agree that I am not the best teacher for each of those three. And my heart is content with that. Instead, I'll read to my book obsessed one year old and change his diaper 48 times a day.  I'll find joy in the small things until the four o' clock hour rolls around and all hell breaks lose.  (Could any more homework doing, guitar plucking, paper signing, phone call returning, and meal making take place during that bewitching hour? My mother in law was right in calling it the valley of the shadow...)

I have to pinch myself when I think about the grades the bigs are entering.  I know I am sounding like my Dad here, but wasn't it just like yesterday that I was in the 8th, 6th, and 3rd grades?  Funny how the hour hand flies by on the clock of time as our souls never age a single day.

I've thought a little about my experiences with those grades.  Joy and suffering always make the best dance partners, right?

Third grade.  I had the biggest crush on a sixth grader who never once glanced my way.  What can I say, I have always liked older men.  (wink wink) What I remember more than anything about this year was my teacher.  She didn't have children and so teaching was her whole life.  She wrote us encouraging notes and took us on extra field trips to love on those in need.  One day, she left the classroom to ask another teacher the absolute best way to write the letter "W" in cursive.  We both had German Shepherds for pets which must have linked our hearts together because when she tragically died in a house fire seven years later, I cried myself to sleep.

If I could tell my third grader anything, I would tell him listen to his teacher with his whole being.  The things she will have to share will go beyond things that can be read in a textbook.  There is wisdom found in writing encouraging notes to others, visiting those who need a little love, and asking questions when you aren't sure of the answer.

Sixth grade. This year is still a little fuzzy to me.  Maybe it is because I was still in shock from my so called friend, Anne, popping my bra in front of everyone the previous year.  I managed to pull myself back together enough to plan my project on the country of Poland.  It was world history presentation time and I rocked it....in front of the whole entire sixth grade.  I decided to be an overachiever and get the attention of the teachers in charge of you know, grading.  I threw out the term polska kielbasa as if Polish were my second language.  They did a double take and my insides exploded with glee. Take that, bra poppers of the world.

If I could tell my sixth grader anything, I would tell him to be grateful that he is a boy.  (ha!) In seriousness, since sixth grade can be a hard transition year on girls and boys alike, I would want him to exercise his gift of mercy in a special way and choose to really see those in need of a little extra help or love.  I would tell him to defend those that are being picked on.  I would encourage him to go the extra mile when completing homework and projects. After all, you just never know where a little polska kielbasa will take you.

Eighth grade.  Enter the word challenging.  It seemed that God used this year to bring separation.  It was the year that all my friends either made the basketball team, the cheerleading squad, or the dance team.  It seemed that all my friends were part of the same youth group as well. I didn't know it at the time, but God was telling me that it was good for me to be who I was.  My talents didn't look like those of my friends, and that was ok. God put me on a path that was right for me which included singing and showing cattle.  It would be a path that would give me a close relationship with my father and eventually give me a college scholarship. 

If I could tell my eighth grader anything, I would tell him that God can use separation for His glory and purposes.  Sometimes not making the desired athletic team can be a good thing, whether for protection or for opening up a path meant for future talents. Sometimes being stripped of favorite friendships can open up spaces for new friendships.  And most importantly, the most precious relationships at this age are with your parents and siblings.

As the summer sun sets, I pray favor over each one of these boys...to learn things that go beyond the textbook, to defend the weak, and to embrace any change that the Lord brings.  Here's to all the alarm clocks of the world.  Coffee lovers unite!

 



Crashing Waves

I laugh at our vacation beach pictures because most of them shout "we are having the time of our lives...wish you were here!"  The truth is, our vacation required a lot of patience and well, work.  Taking a one year old anywhere takes patience and work.  Taking a one year old to a place he really doesn't love brings that to a whole new level. We even came home a whole day early due to our exhaustion!

 

The first night we walked the gorgeous sunlit sand, sweet Asher screamed his head off.  He wouldn't even let us put him down. We knew he might be a little undone by it all, but we weren't really expecting the terror that was etched on his face. Eric and I looked at each other, laughed, and said it might be a pretty interesting week. 

 

 

 

The second day wasn't much better on the little fellow.  He was battling an ear infection and the words sand and sea weren't making it any better.

 

The third day we were determined to make Asher take some baby steps.  After all, he can't be a member of our family if he doesn't like the beach....right???  I was beginning to wonder if he had been switched at birth. We started building a sand castle right where the waves come in.  Asher would run to us, stay until the next wave came in, and then run away screaming as fast as his little chubby legs would carry him.

 

The fourth day, any time we put him down, he would start running.  Away from the water and towards our beach house.  As fast as he could.

 

The fifth day, we decided it was high time for him to get in the water. Eric scooped him up so he would be safe and sound.  Asher wouldn't even have to touch the water, but we wanted him to conquer the fear of the waves and be in it so to speak.  He screamed his head off.  I looked at that boy, shook my head, and said to myself, "Eric is holding him....what on earth is he afraid of?"

 

Boy, howdy, the Spirit of the Living God was all over me in that moment.

 

God has carried me kicking and screaming into oceans of unknown.  I yell at Him and tell Him I absolutely do not want to go there.  He has carried me kicking and screaming into oceans of suicide, miscarriage, depression, financial hardship, crushed dreams, cancer diagnoses, isolation, and rejection.   Each crashing wave becomes a new part of my story as the salty brine leaves my skin more rough and worn.

 

I think of Asher in that moment and wanted him to know that everything was OK for one reason only: he was in his daddy's arms. There wasn't a single wave that would reach Asher that wouldn't go through his daddy first.  Isn't that what God was trying to tell us all along?

 

"When you go through the sea, I am with you. When you go through rivers, they will not sweep you away. When you walk through fire, you will not be burned, and the flames will not harm you.  I am the LORD your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior. " Isaiah 43:2

Why do we fear when He has redeemed us and now calls us by name? Why do we scream when He never, for one second, has dropped us or made us leave the security of His strong arms?

If 37 years have taught me anything, it is this:  we are going to go through the sea, whether we like it or not.  Your waves are going to look differently than mine.  It is what we do with the "I am with you" part that is going to define our journey. Is God alone enough for us in those heart wrenching seasons?

He truly longs to be.
 

 

 

Where the Soul Breathes

Deep sand that tickles the toes.  Seagulls diving in for delicious fish.  Warm sun beating down.  Cool ocean waves that wash away worries.  Wild dolphins swimming just yards away.  Dripping wet boys with huge grins.  My sister in the striped beach chair next to me.  The Word wide open and God speaking fresh. 

The beach has always been where my soul breathes best.

I had a troubling few days right before we left.  Shortness of breath and heart palpitations led to tests that concluded mild regurgitation in the mitral and tricuspid valves. Nothing too serious, but perhaps an answer to the breathing issue.  And breathing is an important issue.

Sometimes the soul gets so bogged down it forgets how to grab a deep breath.  It forgets that the sound of Yahweh's name is like breathing itself.  We breathe Him in and we exhale the quicksand that has held us captive in the inner recesses.

It has been the summer of cancer.  First, Eric's Dad.  Then, a dear friend we have had for 9 years.  All we can do is surrender and pray hard and beg for fresh breath because breathing in His name will be the only thing that carries us.

We were so grateful for some time together as a family.  We squeezed our 6-pack of a family into a 1000 square foot beach house and more or less slept on top of one another, but I loved being so close knit for a week.  No sports or wii or appointments or work or anything else to distract.  I am a blessed woman to have Eric and those 4 boys.  Blessed.

{You know I had to take a picture or two...}