Life in the Schmidt House

Full at the Empty Place

2012-01-07T08:19:00.003-07:00

Sitting in my mom's house, giggles ringing through the vaulted ceilings, it's impossible not to feel a continual pang of sadness on the day we will drive to the place with airplane carpet and fly away. Like feeling gravity for the first time, it's always pulling you back down--"you have to leave this." I remember 7 years ago, this first leaving, this same month, how it felt. Like everything I wanted, all I knew was being ripped from my hands.
I remember driving through a grid of streets I now navigate with ease, as if I was trapped in a bitter jungle that I never would have chosen for myself, crying and crying wondering "why?". I remember that first tiny apartment, that felt like the emptiest place in the world. Small, sad and full of bugs. Friends that I was inheriting that felt nothing like my own. A life, that felt like someone else's. Empty all over the place.
And now, I sit here and begin to realize how full it's become. I texted friends last night and asked them to remind me of why coming home to Colorado is good, and was flooded with one text whistle after another of sunshine, and love, and family, and running, and Christmas lights, and laughter, and slumber parties, and being on my knees. And I started to realize. It's overflowing there.
I read this:
"And emptiness itself can birth the fullness of grace because in the emptiness we have the opportunity to turn to God, the only begetter of grace, and there find all the fullness of joy." (Ann Voskamp)
And I realize that emptying of my hands 7 years ago, created a place for God to swoop in. And I think back on all the recent emptying, again and again, where there's been hardship and pain and suffering, and the only things that have come from it over and over are not bitterness and strife, but joy. And peace. Because our God is infinitely resourceful with our emptiness. And he never leaves the empty places that way. He just fills them with the right things.
I realize anew that He is good. His ways are perfect. And he never. Never abandons his children.

And I look down, and see full hands.

Pause

2011-12-29T12:22:00.005-07:00

I'm learning. A lot lately. A lot about becoming a big girl. And it feels good.

Maybe you're like me and you rush around from moment to moment, I wonder if you are but I know the answer because we all find ourselves chained to thoughts 5 minutes ahead of us, never realizing when we're actually living them. I can think and think for weeks about Christmas and our trip to Ohio, and before we have even boarded a plane to go will feel sad and distraught at the thought of saying goodbye to our loved ones again and how I'm going to lift a 70 pound Christmas tree to the crawl space when I get home. I'm realizing, when I live in the future, I miss God in the present.

I'm reading a book called One Thousand Gifts, and the idea is that we have been given gifts each moment, each day, no matter how trivial they seem and we can choose to receive with thankfulness the carefully wrapped gifts of comfy socks, and birds chirping, or throw the entire package in the trash. I'm learning to live in right now, the only moment I've been given grace enough for and to slow down long enough to experience God's grace right now, where it's offered to me.

"On every level of life, from housework to heights of prayer, in all judgment and efforts to get things done, hurry and impatience are sure marks of the amateur." -Evelyn Underhill

So I'm trying, to stop in the moments, and realize. To slow down and look around. To take in 360 degrees of my life one moment at a time. And today, I caught a glimpse of the gift.

It was wrapped in the package of my little daughter. Falling asleep in my arms long enough for me to witness road maps on her eyelids, and to trace the ski slope that swoops down her nose. When the little girl ceased from singing and hitting, dancing and dress-up long enough for me to sing to her, brush her hair from her sleepy face and whisper to her how fast she's growing up.
I realize that just (what likely seemed like) yesterday a mother held my same sleeping self, and traced my young face with the same panicked desire to stop time long enough to absorb a moment. And there, in that chair, holding my bundle of 3-year-old, slipping my finger into her hand and listening to her slow breath, picturing someday in the near future how she'll be too old, and too smart to let me steal those moments, I received gift upon gift of the moment as the clock moved from 2:16 to 2:15.

I know the next moment after I shut the door would quickly start the sand falling through hourglass life I lead again, but I had a moment to realize what I have, to appreciate, and to thank God. You see, I can spend so much time seeing what I lack, that I fail to realize how full my hands are. So much time wasted with thoughts of calories and checklists, split ends and menus that I blur right past a God with outstretched hands, leaving tire tracks over gift upon gift. Voskamp writes in her book: "Do we truly stumble so blind that we must be affronted with blinding magnificence for our blurry soul-sight to recognize grandeur? The very same surging magnificence that cascades over our every day here. Who has time or eyes to notice?"

Today, thank God, I did.

Where to look

2011-11-18T07:21:00.004-07:00

It seems like lately everywhere I look is a metaphor for being stuck. I'm driving the other day and a bird is flying suspended in one place in mid-air. The wind was blowing so hard against him that he looked like he couldn't move forward at all.

Stuck.

Then last night John and I are in an appointment and the clock was stopped, but not dead....you know where the second hand just ticks in place again and again and never moves forward.

Stuck.

And that's how I've felt in my life lately, just stuck. In the same old stuff, only with a worse attitude. Stuck in the same patterns, and cycles. Cause let's face it, sometimes life's junk is super sticky.

So I'm on my run this morning, and the winds are terrible. I came home and looked up the weather and it said 15-20 mph winds, and there I am running in them. And I feel just like that bird when the wind is at my face, s t u c k. Running my butt off and going no where. Well here I come on the trail and round a corner and just as the song comes on my Pandora with the words about looking to the cross I see a field of little crosses (literally) with the sun rising behind them. We live by a nursery, so they apparently use these devices to grow something on in the spring, but here they are, plain as can be-crosses with the sun rising behind them. I stop, dumbfounded at the reality of the timing and stare...and then take a picture (see above) so I can tell people and remember. And continue on my run.

As I continue to run it dawns on me that I've never seen them before and I loop back on the trail to scope out why. When I get closer to the crosses it dawns on me that on the exact opposite side of the trail is a snake. The people that live there have a decoy snake in their garden to ward off bunnies, or whatever, and it looks real. Seriously scares me. Everytime I come around this bend in the trail I'm so focused on the snake, and how much it freaks me out that I never even noticed the other side. And that's when I start thinking about my life.

You see, I always have a choice where I look. To the cross, or to the snake. It's inevitable, as long as I'm alive on this earth they will both be there, but I have the choice to look at one and turn from the other. I have a choice to look away from the shame, guilt, temptation and condemnation. And look toward the hope, victory, triumph and truth. To look away from the defeat, and toward the promise. To look away from the temporary and look toward the eternal. As a believer in that cross, it's power is completely available to me. The power that my sin is dead, the power that my Savior is available and able. The power that turned away pointed fingers and instead opened arms. But there is also one who seeks to destroy me. To take me feet right out from under me, and I feel the struggle. But the struggle is not mine, it's for one stronger than me. And it will end well.

So today, despite the 20 mph winds, and the snake, and the stuck, I will run. Looking to the cross. With the wind in my face, and the snake right next to me, I will look. To the triumph. To the empty cross, that means a Savior is in heaven sitting, work completed. To the victory, that is mine. And I won't turn back.

"Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart."
Hebrew 12:1-3

Tempted to despair....

2011-08-30T08:04:00.002-06:00

Dear Readers,

I know most of you and this is a letter written individually to you and you alone.

You who are overwhelmed by the prospect of raising children who love the Lord, when the road seems long...
You who battle an illness too great to overcome in your own strength...
You who are weary of struggling the same ways with the same things....
You who fear the future....
You who dread the present....
and to me.

We must not allow ourselves to weary. There is a promise that is as much ours to grab as a glass of water on a table right in front of us. That promise says that to us, who do not become weary doing good in the name of Christ, we will be rewarded. We will reap.
Do not allow yourself to become defeated in the thoughts that tempt you to despair.
Do not allow yourself to believe that you are downcast, put off, less-than or not enough.
Do not allow yourself to settle for being a slave when you have the right....the right....to be called daughter or son.
Do not settle for the mundane, with your children, your job, your life, your marriage, your battles, when you were called to the epoch climax. The ultimate victory. The triumphant procession when the walls of Jericho tumble and fall...crashing down into heaps at the feet of those who merely followed.

You are more than a conquerer and it's about time we started acting like it. We need a backbone. We need some truth. We need a sword in one hand and a shield in the other, cause you better believe that those things that seek to tear you down have got theirs.

Talk to yourself. Remind yoruself of the victory that awaits you. Remind yourself of the prize you run for. Remind yourself of the harvest...then do all you can to fling your seeds of faith all over the place you are standing.

And after you do, be still and wait. You may not see the seedlings at first...or ever. You may never know the depth of the roots those trees delve to, or the heights of their leaves....but a harvest is assured. And it will be glorious.

Oswald Chambers said, "Tenacity is more than hanging on, which may be but the weakness of being too afraid to fall off. Tenacity is the supreme effort of a man refusing to believe that his hero is going to be conquered...Remain spiritually tenacious."

Refuse to believe your hero will be conquered. Because he never has been...not even by death...

Sincerely,
Your fellow Soldier

*Read Psalm 125, Galatians 6:8-10, Ephesians 6:10-18

Nessa's Story

2011-06-06T06:20:00.008-06:00

Sometimes life can seem really hopeless. It swirls and rises over your head till you can't seem to remember why you're swimming in the first place. Then--every now and then you're thrown a little life raft (or told to learn to swim...fast). It might seem like nothing first. Might even confuse us, but soon enough we'll understand it's a little paper airplane from a God who sees us, and loves us, and then...it becomes a treasure.

I realize this post will put me in direct danger of being labeled a "cat lady"...but I think the story is strong and beautiful enough to take that risk...so I proceed, fully acknowledging the risk I face. A few weeks ago, John mentions that there are kittens at work. They've been abandoned by their mother, and they are tiny and helpless. But they are black (and John prefers black cats last on his list). Also, he mentions, "I don't want a cat right now." Fine...I haven't seen the kittens so my heart is not officially broken, and we move on. Until last weekend. It's Memorial Day weekend, and we are buzzing through our family time just fine when a friend randomly and at the last minute asks John to come meet him at work to let him in (he's forgotten his code or something). So John goes, in the rain and tries a door (a door that always works) that doesn't work. Aside from the quick observation that this is a little strange, the guys go to another door and it opens right away. Then they hear a tiny noise from under the shed.

This is the point when John remembers the litter of kittens, and how for the weekend the majority of them had been coaxed out of hiding to go to someone's house and be cared for, out of the rain and cold. All of them...but one. One stayed behind...either too afraid to come out and be taken away...or aware of a bigger command. John goes over and leans down and out runs this tiny, scared, wet little kitten who quickly climbs up his leg, into his heart, and then immediately after that into our homes before we could say, "Bob's your uncle."

After a call from John explaining, "I'm bringing her home", he walks in the door holding said baby cat and a plate of diced hot dogs which he tried to feed her (note: kittens do not eat hot dog circles). He also has tears in his eyes, and so do I. It's hard to explain what happens then, as we begin exchanging shock over the details and wondering why everything happened the way it did. Because at this point it seems perfectly clear to us that God wants this little addition in our home, and at the same time ridiculous that God would want a kitten in our home. It seems both clear that this is no accident, and weird that it would be anything less.

(This is John with the hot dog circles, picture courtesy of our 2 year-old.)

Then I started thinking about the parallels. Here was a kitten, alone, weak, unable to do anything for itself, and God set her in a family where she is wanted and rejoiced over.
"God sets the lonely in families"- Psalm 68:6

Here is one that could have been overlooked and forgotten by the world, that could have been left behind, but was--instead--saved.
"Our God is a God who saves; from the Sovereign LORD comes escape from death."- Psalm 68:20

Here is one who was impossibly weak. With nothing to do for herself, nothing to add to her condition. She could not get food, build shelter, nothing. Just sit...and wait to be rescued.
"God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong." - 1 Corinthians 1:27
"He will take pity on the weak and the needy and save the needy from death."- Psalm 72:13

And slowly, the more we think of it, the more we understand these little messages wrapped up in the life of this little ball of fur. We are not unlike her. We face our struggles, many seem insurmountable. John has been struggling particularly with some health issues that have seemed overwhelming for about two years now, and I am facing the craziest month (possibly in my life). And in the midst of this hardship, comes our little message from God to remind us, we are weak, but he is strong. We are helpless, he will provide. He sees us, even when we feel forgotten and left behind, and we will receive whatever we need from Him.

Her name is Nessa (with variations of "Ness Ness", "Nessie" and "Nessa-doodle" from various family members). It means "miracle" in Hebrew. Because to us, that's exactly what all of this is.

It's a miracle that the God of the universe looks down on all creation, and takes the time to remind his children that he loves them, and they can trust him. But that's exactly the kind of God I know.

Ohio

2011-05-25T18:45:00.006-06:00

As I type, I am sitting on my mom's front porch in Ohio. There are huge stretches of green rolling hills, birds chirping and fluttering around like I'm Snow White herself, hummingbirds buzzing around and pausing (but not really pausing) to refill their sugar supply, and the smell of peonies form a giant bouquet (I can never spell that word right the first time) twirling around my head. As I lift my head to stare out at the long ribbon of white fence that lines the country road her house perches aside, I think there may be no place on earth I feel more peaceful than right here.

That's the thing about Ohio for me, that most people can't seem to understand. To me, it has so much depth, so much sentimentality, that I love it, like no place I've known. It's weird how a place can do that really. Weird how just the sight of the city posing before me as we drive in from the airport on that stretch of highway in Kentucky, makes me feel both like I'm finally there and I've been punched in the stomach. Weird how the curve of road that goes in front of the city and leads to where we lived when we were first married makes me ache for those days. And totally weird how things like driving down a windy road with hills at dusk, windows down, music loud, and a canopy of green all around me catapults me right back to age 18 (which, admittedly was not that long ago...though it is getting further).

This is the place I fell in love, with Jesus, and my husband, figured out who I was, grew up, rebelled, learned to drive, walk, dance and spell. And it holds more memories for me than a high school yearbook. Admittedly, it is beautiful. There is a history here (especially along the river) that supercedes any of my own and tells stories of slaves escaping to freedom, and settlers learning how to live. And I love that part, the part that is laced through everything from the architecture to the trees. And speaking of the trees, there is air here that is so thick with the smell of green, that makes me claim (on poor authority) that this must be exactly the way Ireland looks and smells.

But of course all of that just bolsters the ache in my heart that remembers the early days of falling in love, and twists to know what my life would be like if it were in the cards for me to live here.
And I do wonder that....all. the. time.

This is how I feel, and then I think of God.

C.S. Lewis said this:
"These things—the beauty, the memory of our own past—are good images of what we really desire; but if they are mistaken for the thing itself they turn into dumb idols, breaking the hearts of their worshippers. For they are not the thing itself; they are only the scent of a flower we have not found, the echo of a tune we have not heard, news from a country we have never yet visited. "
He describes how all those longings, those sentimental feelings of days gone by, are really just our homesickness for heaven, for nearness to the God we were created to love and be with, and that if we were to actually go back, relive, or have those things that create that heartsick homesick feeling, we would find they really don't satisfy the way we imagined them to.

So when I think about those days, or this place, and feel that ache, I know it is not the reality of what I'm longing for, that it could never really satisfy me...it is only a shadow.

As I type, the lightning bugs are starting to light up the trees like late May's Christmas lights, the peonies still smell amazing, and there is a quiet all around that makes me feel like I'm submerged underwater. Tomorrow I will get on a plane, and end up in Colorado.
Where it is another kind of beautiful.
And while I'd really want to live here, the irony of the fact that someday I will think of Colorado with similar fondness and ache is not lost on me. That's the thing about this homesick feeling...it is always elusive. It will always evade us until that day when we are at home, with our Father...
...right where we belong, until then, I'll wait.

Daughter

2011-04-21T14:46:00.004-06:00

There's a song I love. I listen to it when I run and often start crying, sometimes I run with my hand lifted up in the air like a moron. It just stirs something in my heart so intense, and I recently realized why.

It's' called Amos Story by Aaron Ivey, you an watch it here, and it's a beautiful song, and video. You should stop reading this...and go watch that, then come back here.

Okay, finished? Here's why it's beautiful to me. It's the song of this father, who is nations and oceans away from his son, separated. He is far off, and the father longs to bring him near. It's an adoption story, and it's so glorious because I too, am adopted.
"But when the set time had fully come, God sent his Son, born of a woman, born under the law, to redeem those under the law, that we might receive adoption to sonship." Galatians 4:4-5

I am adopted by God. Over and over the Bible says it. So when I hear these lyrics:
"I’ll find a way to get you here
If it takes my fleeting breath"

My heart rejoices, not because he can't or didn't...but because he did. It took every breath, he gave the last breath all to bring the world near.

"Lightyears away I hope you know
There is somebody searching
For the way to get you here"

He waited...years, thousands of years to be more specific to come to earth ,not to live and gain earthly treasures, but to die and gain a heavenly prize. He found the way, to get us there. And he took it. I get this picture in my mind of Jesus, watching next to the Father, waiting eagerly and anxiously, with bated breath to rush forward and grab us again, to bring us near.

He loves us so so so. Not because we are worthy or exceptional, but because he is love.

"For those who are led by the Spirit of God are the children of God. The Spirit you received does not make you slaves, so that you live in fear again; rather, the Spirit you received brought about your adoption to sonship. And by him we cry, “Abba, Father.” The Spirit himself testifies with our spirit that we are God’s children." Romans 8:14-16

Are you getting this?

We were adopted. Not bought on Easter Sunday all those years ago to be slaves, living in constant fear of death, bought back to be sons and daughters.
I was bought to live as a daughter. You were bought, to live as a child of God.

And as we wait here, we are not only waiting. We owe a debt to the world to tell them of the same adoption call on their lives. Would it be kind, fair, or just for an orphan to be lovingly snatched from an orphanage to live with a father who loved so intensely and so perfectly, and not feel some sense of loss for those who were left behind. Would it be loving for the same orphan (now an adopted daughter) to hear her now Father look at her and say, "Go! Tell the other orphans, I want them too! Bring them here." and instead sit where she is in comfort, refusing to share--relegating her life to some self-indulgent, entitled existence.

No, we long for heaven, we groan waiting for it. But we press on, thinking of that same eternity to show others the adoption.

"So dream, dream, dream my child
Hear the whisperings of hope"

I will dream. I will dream huge dreams that tell others of this love. I will dream dreams that do not limit the power of a mighty God working through the life of his now daughter. I will dream and hear the whisperings of hope for those who are still orphans. And I will surrender my time, resources, and every breath, to point others back to my Father.

It's Easter. It's adoption. It's ours.

Not Conviction

2011-04-07T11:25:00.006-06:00

I almost titled this post Conviction, because I've recently been totally convicted about something that I'm pursuing...then I looked up the definition...here's what it said:
Conviction: a fixed or firm belief

I'm not sure I could in good conscience use that term...as I'm not too convinced that I live like this is a firm belief in my life, yet.

So there's this really awful little feature that I just discovered on my blog and that is the "stats" feature. This is where you can track how many people look at your blog, how many have looked at which post, how many from other websites, which websites...it's (as I mentioned) terrible.

But I'm obsessed.

I check it...a.....lot.

And I'm vowing to stop. Completely--to not even look (I'm cringing as I type) because it puts all the focus on me, and my endeavors. If I start looking there, I'm not really writing for the right reasons (to bring glory to God, and what he's teaching me)...I'm writing to try and get more peeks at my posts.

I'm reading the book Radical by David Platt, and he spends a lot of time talking about what we do in our own strength, and how (long story short) it's a waste of our life. There's this thought he shares:

"This, after all, is the goal of the American dream: to make much of ourselves. But here the gospel and the American dream are clearly and ultimately antithetical to each other. While the goal of the American dream is to make much of us, the goal of the gospel is to make much of God."

So there's this stuff going into my brain...reminding me that the why is always more important than the what. Then there's this whole other stream of thoughts also going on that I am learning, and that is...I love to write. I love to act. I love to be in large groups of women, and love to make them laugh.

Now originally, I thought these two things were opposing forces. One was selfish, me wanting to pursue my dreams and my goals, and my desires to get attention, and the other was a crucifying of myself and a dying to myself, and living miserably, but in a way that exalts God.

I'm realizing that the to work in perfect tandem with each other. That they are both possibly from God. That it is good for me to love to write, be funny, and act. Those are blessings when they are done to make much of the gospel.

I'm sure the rest of you have realized this, but it's been beautiful for me to wake up to (honestly, I can feel a weight coming off my chest even writing this post).
And I'm ecstatic about living this adventure he has. One that will be marked with suffering and hardship (I am sure) but that holds the potential to make much of a God who is ultimately satisfying to all who find him.

I want to live in that kind of way. Surrendering everything I have, gifts, resources, time, and breath and steps and energy. All for the glory of God. I want every post to make much of him, every choice in how I spend my time to make much of him.

Think of how big I can dream if I'm relying on the power of an infinite God. Think of how much God will be able to do now that I'm trying (moment by moment) to get out of the way.

and

Think of how small it is to only live to make much of ourselves. To live day in and out pursuing the goal of making wonderful grandiose praises for my own little kingdom that will last sixty some more years at most.

That's the beauty of living for the gospel--one day I will not be remembered, but my God will still be known, better to give my life up pointing others toward him.

Live like we're dying...cause we are.

Once upon a time...

2011-04-06T13:58:00.006-06:00

Once upon a time I was talking to a woman about being transparent.
Once upon a time I told her about how it needed to happen in our church walls....needed to be breathed out. Needed to break the porcelain molds that hold us in, and needed to shatter the "churchy-ness" that American Christianity perpetuates.

Once upon a time...she asked me why.

This woman I trust....I respect, this wonderfully wise, calm, yoda-esque woman.
And then began my journey....cause I just wasn't sure why all of the sudden.

Thankfully she took the time to help me understand why.

And here was her advice....go right to that place where I feel most anxious. The thing that makes me clamor and stress. I could list a variety of them, her advice was to go to the thing that pops first in my mind, I'd know what it was.

For me it was when I send an email (especially on a vulnerable subject) or put myself out there somehow and then hear nothing. You know when you were younger and you used to get called to talk to the principal....that feeling of impending doom? That feeling that comes up when your mom used to say "We need to talk?".....no? You must've been a better kid than me.

It might sound silly but it sends me into a panic. She then encouraged me to follow that rabbit trail all the way to the end...asking myself all the hard questions that come with that fear.

Here's what it looked like for me:
What if I don't hear anything? What if they think I'm an idiot? What if they're judging me? What if I was too harsh? What if I shouldn't have said anything? What if they don't like me? What if they don't talk to me anymore? What if I've lost my good standing in their eyes?

There were many more "what ifs", and each one fired off a sensor in my mind that made me terrified.
This woman's advice to me was that if you follow it long enough you'll understand what you're believing about yourself that is not true.

For me it was this:
I am believing that if others don't like/accept/appreciate/affirm me...it means I am not worth much.

And that's obviously a lie.

It starts with being transparent with ourselves. With our God.
"God. I am scared. I am scared I might be right about myself. Scared they might be right about me. Scared of what will happen if I'm not accepted."

That beginning thought to transparency, agreement to tell the truth about where we are, honesty with ourselves and God puts us in the best position to hear truth.
Truth about ourselves. Our worth. Mainly our God--because hearing the truth about ourselves and our worth are really just stories about what he's done to declare wonderful things about who we are in him.

I'm trying to learn to start there. So I can finish well with him.

Reckless Abandon: A story about Stephanie

2011-04-06T13:30:00.006-06:00

Skipping the small stuff, getting to the point.

Stephanie used to be a self-proclaimed lesbian.

Now, you can read her amazing, Christ-celebratory story here.. But that's not as much what I'm writing about.

I'm writing about the way she lives now.
She lives bravely.

Bravely aware of her identity in Christ. Bravely surrendered to the Savior who laid claim on her life. Bravely humble about what he's done for her.

Stephanie is not afraid of sharing her story, what she's been through and even the really really vulnerable parts of her story, because she recognizes there is nothing she could gain from coming across as having it together. Nothing significant she could hold onto from not telling people. But there is glory in dying to herself. There is a beautiful abandon that comes from not trying to make a name for ourself, not trying to sustain an image that isn't ours to claim in the first place.

Steph has shared her story with multitudes of people. She boasts of her lowly place because she recognizes there is nothing to be lost for her. She cannot lose her standing, she cannot lose her worth or value. It is secure. And she can live recklessly for the gospel (and does) because she's not holding on to those attempts.

When I asked her if I could share her story, she not only responded with an immediate "yes" but also allowed me to share as much of her sin as I wanted....amazing how surrendered this girl is.
She also shared with me two verses that are so liberating:

"And I heard a loud voice in heaven, saying, "Now the salvation and the power and the kingdom of our God and the authority of his Christ have come, for the accuser of our brothers has been thrown down, who accuses them day and night before our God. And they have conquered him by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony, for they loved not their lives even unto death." Revelation 12:10-11

"But I do not account my life of any value nor as precious to myself, if only I may finish my course and the ministry that I received from the Lord Jesus, to testify to the gospel of the grace of God." Acts 20:24

Thanks Steffers. For being open. For being a little more out there than some might be comfortable with. For living a brave life for the gospel.

The way you live showed me how to not count my life as precious to myself.

Fake it till...

2011-04-04T13:21:00.014-06:00

Consider yourself warned...

You'd think, for an actress, I'd be better at pretending. Pretending to like people, pretending to be in a good mood, pretending to have it together.
But I'm not.
In fact, one of the hardest things for me is being something I'm not.
Mainly because I'm selfish...I recognize that. But I'm thinking some of it is good.

Here's the thing. Our culture is centered around being fake. Fake boobs, fake hair color, fake teeth, botox, spanx, makeup. All to make us look better than we are. You'd think with all the recent hype about using "real sugar" vs. high fructose corn syrup, and blah blah blah, we'd be trending in a different direction. We're not.

And all that stuff is fine, to a degree....

But there's one place I can't stand it. One place I'm learning to be completely authentic, because it's what I want from others.

Relationships.
See, no one benefits from another female relationship where we have it together. The person faking it doesn't benefit, the person observing the fake-ness doesn't. It's destructive.

And I won't stand for it.
At least not in my own life.
I'm learning a lot about authenticity...about transparency. What it looks like--what it doesn't look like. And why it's significant.
Here's what I'm learning...in list form.

What it isn't:
1. Saying whatever you think. This is different. This is called pride. While I am also terribly guilty of this...it's a different evil. This one says "My opinion is there, I'll tell it to you, you deal with it, I don't care if it hurts your feelings."
2. Airing of grievances. It's not a license to say everything that bothers you about someone. (See number one). I am also guilty of this.
3. Confession. There's this bad tendency when it comes to being authentic. It can lean a different direction. One that is more religious than resting in the gospel. When my goal is to confess something so I don't feel bad about it anymore, it's wrong. It's penance--dare I say- it's sin. I am also guilty of this.

What it is:
1. Vulnerability.
2. A rejection of self-protection.
3. The ability to rest in an identity that is given us in Christ, that is not founded on a facade we fabricate.
4. The acceptance of being right where we are, exactly who we are, and relinquishing the desire to cover-up, get our act together, or appear to be something we're not.
5. A chance to be real before others, and be accepted for being that way. Not mocked, belittled, condescended or gossiped about.

Why it's crucial (I deleted the word "important"):
1. We are all flawed, each one of us. And as long as we're encouraged to cover that up and pretend we have it together--we're just propagating the pride that keeps us from God. Once we realize we can be loved and accepted with others right where we are, we'll recognize we can be the same way with God. (Obviously God does not love or accept our sin, but he sees our Savior's record when he looks at us)
2. A need to cover-up, pretend, be fake, just facilitates comparing, cattiness, and gossip. As long as "someone else looks worse than me" then I don't have to be afraid of being found out. Is this making sense? When I throw someone else under the bus, then I'm not afraid of the bus hitting me. If I'm not trying to "self-protect" everyone is allowed and encouraged to be jsut as screwed up as they are right now, because I'm just as screwed up as I am.
3. It rests in the gospel. Self-protection...pretending....faking it...does not.
Faking it rests in the image of myself I've crafted. The one where I don't look so bad. Being authentic, vulnerable, transparent, rests in Christ. When I understand that "we are more wicked than we ever dared believe, but more loved and accepted in Christ than we ever dared hope" (Tim Keller) I am able to rest, and be real.
4. I don't need one more person in my life who has it together.

At this point I was going to wax eloquent a disclaimer about how it is never acceptable to be complacent with sin, and "let it all hang out"....but I'm not even going to do that. If you think that's where I am, and I need to explain myself, you should go back and read any of my previous posts.

In the weeks to come, I'll be sharing stories. Stories of what this has looked like in my life (most if not all of them will make me look terrible, which I'm okay with). I'm learning too much about relationships to not share. I'm learning how to be a Christian. I'm learning how to be a real woman, in a real world, saved by a real Savior. I'm learning that it's good to tell the truth, especially when it makes you look bad. I'm learning what it looks like to rest in the gospel. I'm learning how to fail gracefully, what's important, and what I want my daughter to learn.

Mainly I'm learning how little I've learned.

But I will say this, the more I learn how to be okay with messing up, and okay with others doing the same...
the more free I am.
And that's just the way I want to live.

Inexplicable

2011-03-20T15:21:00.007-06:00

The other day we were walking out of the restaurant part of Cracker Barrel and Ellie was probably 10 steps ahead of me (running out), an old man (maybe 90? definitely over 80) was walking in super slowly--like it was hard for him to walk. On her way out Ellie ran right up to him and grabbed his hand, like she'd known him her whole life. He looked down at her and squeezed her hand and they had the weirdest little interchange with no words.

I felt in an instant like I was out of the loop. Like my two year old and that man knew something that I had no idea about. It was so bizarre. All the tables around them stopped what they were doing and watched. We all paused and the world stood still while we witnessed a moment that none of us seemed to understand and then Ellie let go and ran off. A moment that felt pregnant with importance, but was completely nonchalant for the two involved.

I can't stop thinking about this. Maybe because I couldn't fit it into a place in my brain, because I just couldn't understand or explain away why it happened. And I couldn't attach a nice little story to it. It simply stood alone, punctuated my mundane day with a moment that inspired me for reasons I don't know. But I wonder if trying to explain it, trying to figure it out dumbs down the significance of it--washes away some of the mystery that makes it remarkable and beautiful.

And so I've decided I can be okay with not knowing, with never knowing.

I can let God be God, and have the secret things for himself. He can know. I won't.
In the meantime, I get to witness things that I can't explain.
And the song I'm listening to says:

"Sometimes things aren't always what they seem, words fall short in times like these."

(credits to Sandra with "Imperfect Melodies" for making the beautiful soundtrack to my blog,to Lynds for taking beautiful pictures, and to Courtney, for her good advice)

Fig Leaves

2011-03-16T15:11:00.008-06:00

How much time do you spend crafting an identity you want to hide behind? You know, working on being skinny, funny, pretty, crafty, wise, spiritual? (those are mine) How much effort is given to those things? How much effort given to hiding? I'm taking a cue from my new favorite blogger Courtney and including tons of pictures that I illegally snag off the internet (she has rights to hers).

How much time to hiding behind an identity that is fabricated to make you look like you're not as messed up as you are? Like Eve hiding behind the hand-sewn fig-leaves in the garden, wondering who would see.

John and I were talking last night, about how much I've been struggling lately since I've been sick, and I'm not able to get out of bed early, read my Bible and exercise. It came down to me saying this very bluntly (please don't email me about eating disorders or I will egg your car):
"I have to be skinny"
....and him poignantly asking:
"Why do you have to be skinny?"

This completely disarmed me. I was ill prepared to answer such a direct question and all the things I could think I wanted to say to defend myself ("Because it's healthier", "So I'll feel good about myself", "So I can be more confident") Really boiled down to nothing and sounded so fake...cause I knew the truth.
I laid in bed, thinking about the real answer, and this blog post and struggled to sleep.

The real answer is (it's hard to be this transparent)...I want people to worship me.

Let me follow that up with the fact that I sat here and stared at the computer screen wondering if I really had the audacity to type what I felt in my heart. Wondering if I could somehow soften the blow of that truth by saying something like "think I'm great" instead of using the word "worship"...but I just couldn't do it justice.

I am guilty of the same sin that caused Lucifer to fall like lightning from heaven. And it's dreadful.

Now before you all start telling me how much I beat myself up, or downplaying what I just said let me also say that I am completely aware of the fact that my Savior died for that, it is finished, and I am forgiven.

But let me explain what I'm learning about this.
We are all in desperate need of being real. Putting it on the line. I don't mean in a sort of "I'm going to expose what I want you to see enough so it looks like I'm really honest but I'm really just using even that to craft my own image" kind of real. I'm talking about, "this makes me uncomfortable" kind of real.

A woman I really look up to just did something that I know makes her feel utterly exposed, and then made the comment to me about how that is her place of faith, because if we're not there, learning how to be comfortable in the place we're least comfortable, we are hiding.

God has recently been sparing me from hiding by stripping away the things I want to hide behind.
Well-behaved kids? Good luck forcing that one.
Spiritual bible verse wisdom? Not until I can read my Bible again.
Great muscles? How about you sleep in until 8am.
Good mothering? Well we watched 3 hours of television yesterday.

It's all this glorious thing, that was originally making me so miserable, but I'm learning now to find great rest in.

"I have come into the world as a light, so that no one who believes in me should stay in darkness." John 12:46
We can bring our entire selves, completely real and exposed to the light. We can stand unashamed once more, in all our awful glory, with every truth we are ashamed to admit, because we have been granted a new identity.
We can be comfortable when we are anything but comfortable because we don't find our rest in what we do, or how we look, but in our Savior.

"The LORD sets prisoners free" Psalm 146:7
We have no reason to hide, no cause to find something to cover us...we are covered!
Behind every awful moment of being exposed is a chance to find rest in the gospel.
On the other side of every colossal "failure" is a God waiting with open arms to hold the daughter he already knew was a screw up.
And on the outside of every comfort zone, is a liberty that would never have been realized had we not ventured out.

What he sees

2011-03-05T21:57:00.005-07:00

The above picture was drawn by my son. He is 4 and a half.
Tonight I'm looking at the picture and talking it over with my husband. How sweet it was that he wanted to draw a picture of me, how sweet that he wrote me a note. How (if you could see the rest of the picture) he drew himself with hair sticking up and his sister with pigtails. Then it dawned on me what I'm wearing in the picture. Look at it. There is a dress, floor-length, with those little sweepy things that Cinderella has on her gown, and circley puffy sleeves (I'm getting really technical with my fashion lingo here). He drew me in a princess dress. We started discussing it, and all the pictures my son draws of me, and I realized...he always draws me in a princess dress.
Mind you, I never have ever walked around the house wearing a princess dress (a wedding dress? yes...once, but princess dress? never). I walk around the house wearing jeans, or sweats, or a bathrobe...not a ball gown. Still, when my son is asked to draw a picture of me...I am a princess (a princess with no arms usually, but a princess nonetheless).
It started me thinking about God. And how this is true of our relationship with him as well. If God were to draw my picture, what would he draw? A prideful woman, who constantly demands her own way? A gossip? Maybe the incredible hulk (thinking of my propensity for anger)? No, none of those things. I'm convinced that if God were to sit down and draw a picture of me (I'd have arms) and would also look like a princess. Not because I am worthy. Not because I am smart enough, funny enough, skinny enough, patient enough, or deserving enough. But because I am his. A daughter of the king. Because his Son died for me and now, because of the righteousness that was won on my behalf, I am near, and rejoiced over.

I am a princess.

And I don't know about you, but someone thinking I'm a princess, makes me a lot more likely to act like one.

Unwrapped

2011-03-02T14:29:00.003-07:00

Exposed. Ever heard of that word? Let me help you with the definition, it involves things like "depriving of shelter", "making known" and "causing to be visible". Okay, we've got a working definition, now you can delve into my life.
I'll warn you, most of my posts have a neat little bow on the end when I'm finished. A happy ending to leave us all feeling a little closure. This one is hurting a little too much to have such closure....but I'm getting ahead of myself.

Three weeks ago we get a report from one of our children's teachers in Sunday school about how he had a hard time listening, had to be taken out of the room etc. (this is all coming through my sweet husband filter, who remembers few if any details about such things). So we write it off, talk to little man about obeying and go on with it, when a week later another teacher says the same thing. Mid-week I take him to BSF and find out the same thing happened and finally, today after dropping him off and one of the overseeing teachers came up to me to "talk" about how he's doing I began to crumble. She asks if anything is going on at home, like a move, or a death (really?....or a terrorist plot, or a hostage situation?) and I kindly ask her for suggestions and get some great feedback (which she had great ideas for both.) I then (after responding quite diplomatically I must say) walk outside, call my man and begin to u n r a v e l.

There was a lot of talking, and a lot of crying (both done by me) about how hard I'm trying, how much of myself I'm giving, how I don't know what else I could sacrifice, or pray about, or work through or who else I could possibly get advice from or what other tool I could implement (ultimate run on sentence.) And I say something to the effect of "I keep sowing all that I have, and I feel like I should be reaping something different with this little boy, I just don't know what I'm doing wrong," to which my husband replies something to the effect of "it's not necessarily you." Of course I didn't believe him (though desperately wanted to) and go inside.

We start talking in the lesson about God, and how he won't share his glory and how he won't tolerate us believing in idols, and yet again I start being able to see how kind he is to me. Here's a verse:

"See, I have refined you, though not as silver;
I have tested you in the furnace of affliction.
For my own sake, for my own sake, I do this.
How can I let myself be defamed?
I will not yield my glory to another." Isaiah 48:10-11

Okay, I have this nasty little habit. It's pride. My problem is I want to build a tiny little kingdom for myself. I set myself up, to make my name great with all sorts of great attributes like being funny, pretty, skinny, and (duh) having perfectly behaved little pawns to show the world what a great mom I am. (brutally honest here folks). When this little man starts getting in the way of me building said kingdom, I start to panic. I start to pray harder "God. Please help him to start obeying" (and those are good prayers, and I might even use good spiritual words like "win his heart")...but what I'm really wanting is for God to make him obey so I can check my box, have my little ego boost and move on. Not so God is glorified.

It is in this place, of feeling exposed, of feeling completely incapable of doing anything other than humbly seeking God, asking his teachers for advice and prayers, and consistently being a mom the only way I know how that I write. God is growing me in my motives. He is growing (as a friend called it) a really thick layer of gospel skin on my outside. Reminding me that I don't find my identity in how my son behaves (or doesn't for that matter) but in Christ alone. He is showing me that I cannot punch in the proper sequence of mothering activities (which would look something like: Bible, prayer, scripture, discipline, love, self control and chocolate in my head) and pop out a nice little marketable product of a child. He is showing me that I can rest in a place of complete uncertainty in how my kids behave and how I appear to others, because I'm not resting in those things at all, but in a sure foundation on the rock eternal. He is showing me that I cannot have the goal of producing good well-behaved children who always say "please" and "thank you" and never have dirty fingernails, because it's not only impossible, but also just serves to boost my ego and flesh, and doesn't really point them to a Savior.

So in the thick of all of this, I wait. Feeling completely naked and ridiculous, but also learning to be okay with being so because I trust in the robes of righteousness that are provided for me. I guess a great deal of mothering is being Fathered, and remembering that He is the one in control and leading. I'm sure this will serve me well when our son is 18 and comes home with a motorcycle and a girlfriend named Candy, and I know learning how to fall after I've built myself up is a great deal of life. I just hope in the future I don't let myself get so high that it hurts too bad.

He stoops

2011-02-16T15:03:00.006-07:00

So this morning, I was supposed to go off to Bible study, and enjoy 2 hours of kid-free adult discussion about things that aren't Dora the Explorer and Disney and then follow it by a fellowship at a friend's house with my kids where she was making lunch for the entire group (read:free lunch and nice people). Well, Ellie- in an obvious maneuver to ruin my life- has had a runny nose for 3 days and despite my hopes that I would wake to a miraculous healing (how "New Testament" of me) it dawned on me 20 minutes before we left that she was still snotty and likely contagious. And compelled more by what other people would think of me than genuine concern for others (I'm not proud of it, I just rrrrrrreally wanted to go) I decided I had to stay home.

But I'm so mature that I handled it perfectly and went about our normal daily routine without a hitch...well, that's what I'd like to be telling you right now...but I'd be breaking a commandment if I said that (and frankly, you wouldn't have a very exciting post to read). Nope, I threw a temper tantrum. You might wonder what an adult temper tantrum looks like and I would submit to you that it's not all too different from a child's tantrum. I cried, I pouted, I complained to my husband so he'd feel bad about how hard my life as a mom is, and then I told God he was mean (in so many words, I'd never say it that plainly).

I announce to the kids that we're going for a drive (in my head carefully calculating where our "drive" should be to coincidentally pass by the local drive-thru coffee spot, and off we go. We were in the car about 3 minutes, listening to "Adventures in Odyssey" which is a christian radio program of stories for kids when I realized (sigh) God was going to teach me something. The story was all about trusting God. About a little boy who had been wanting to audition for the chamber choir, and had been praying about it, when a series of events that were unjust and out of his control led to him not being able to. The moral of the story was that we must trust God even when our circumstances seem like they're going the opposite way we'd been asking or wanting. Because to trust him only conditionally when we get the right things, or to trust him to provide exactly what we ask him for, isn't really trust at all. (I know, you guys already knew this, you're smart).

We go about the morning, and actually had a lot of fun kicking around target and playing tag in the clothing racks (yeah...that was us...sorry), and I'm starting to think to myself "this is fun, I'm actually enjoying my kids even though I was so mad." Then on the way home we're driving and the cars in front of me start to slow down. I don't know why they slow down (Linc said a dog ran across the road, but he also thinks he's invisible when playing hide and seek) and I happen to look up to see what I initially thought was a hawk. Upon closer look I shout "Linc, that's a bald eagle!!!" I couldn't believe it! I stared to the point of wrecking into the car in front of me, all the while shouting "I can't believe it!" (I stopped myself before "what does it mean?" but almost had a full on double rainbow moment). While we're driving away I'm telling Linc how amazing that was, how I've never ever seen a bald eagle just flying overhead, and by the time he starts wondering why the eagle was bald, it dawns on me:
"...but those who trust in the LORD
will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles;
they will run and not grow weary,
they will walk and not be faint."
Isaiah 40:31

And in that moment, I realize, I can trust him. It doesn't have to look like I think it should. He is able to give me the strength to run and not grow weary when I trust him. He is more than I dared hope in sufficiency, grace and love, and he pursues me. He loves me when I'm stupid, when I'm mad, when I'm foolish and stubborn. He loves me when I'm pouty, rebellious and angry. He loves me enough to tell me so, even though I could never earn it. And he is interested in my life. It's enough when you experience something like that to soften even the hardest of hearts, and melt even the most stubborn walls.

Now, maybe this is coincidence, by chance it all happened in some cosmic scale dice toss. Maybe it's science, and all the protonuclematrons in the universe lined up to zap the eagle over my car at that exact moment. Maybe it's...buddah, or a reincarnate mind reader who is currently in his eagle life stage and new I needed to see one. But it's not.

It's God.

It's a real and living God interacting with a daughter that he loves enough to pursue. It's a God looking down from the heavens where he sits enthroned, seeing his tiny speck of a daughter in Fort Collins Colorado throwing a temper tantrum. And then choosing to not only put on a story on her radio at the exact moment that she needed to hear about trusting in his plans, but then also making a bald eagle fly over her car and causing her to look up and notice, and then reminding her of the song she had to memorize for a video shoot 3 years earlier with Isaiah 40:31 in it. (and no matter how common eagles are--in 28 years of living the only place I've ever seen one is a zoo).

Who can do that but God? Who would do that but God?

Cynics will scoff. Scientists will explain. Atheists will ignore. But I can tell you this much, there were 3 people in that car today, that had a very real experience with the God of the entire creation and all time, stooping to give his pouty, sinful little daughter a kiss on the cheek and a reminder of his love. And that's enough for me.

Hamburger in my pocket...

2011-01-18T20:07:00.002-07:00

Well most of my posts are about something profound I learned from God. One of those "smack you in the head" moments that you can't help but talk about.

Tonight's events unfolded a little less dramatically, but God is still teaching me through it, let me fill you in...
I went to Walmart and was unloading my kids from the car when a bewildered looking woman walks up and ambiguously stands by me...not looking directly at me or addressing me, just standing there holding fake flowers in her hand and looking confusedly off in the distance. After looking at her a moment, wondering if she was going to pull out a gun on me (I watch a lot of Bruce Willis movies) I said "are you alright?". She proceeded to ask me if I wanted to buy some fake flowers so she could have money to buy her daughter diapers etc. I said I wouldn't give her money, but I was happy to buy her some diapers etc. She obliged and off we went...shopping. While we were standing in line I started hearing this voice in my head reminding me that I have the truth of the gospel and I needed to share it with her....I'm thinking "here...in Walmart?". I start feeling really anxious as the line is super crowded and there is no way I want to freak people out by saying (whisper voice) "Jesus". I look over in the line next to me and a friend from church is buying some groceries. A few minutes later I look further in the line and there is another woman from church in line and it dawns on me..."I'm not alone...Christ himself is here with me."

After some pathetic attempts at talking to her about Jesus (I'm not even going to feign eloquence or bravery), and some blank stares that returned I realized this was a closed door. I asked her how I could pray for her, gave her my email address, and told her about our church, which could help if she needed anything in the future. After many pleas from her for money to pay for the cabin she was staying in for the night (???) and an explanation that her brother was waiting in the car she left with not only diapers but (per her request) diapers, wipes, formula, a pacifier and a bottle, and I left with the receipt and the sneaking suspicion that I was being ripped off.

Then I came home and heard from three friends who shared stories with me that encouraged my pants off. The first was from the friend I saw in line. I wrote her and told her how her being there encouraged me and she said she was encouraged to know God had plans for her in light of her day. Apparently she had a day where nothing went according to her plans and it was nice to know that God could use her to accomplish his plans and that his plans were even better than hers. What a reminder to me (one who so often thinks I have amazing plans that God need only to listen to) that he is the creator of heaven and earth and has plans for me that will knock my socks off if only I'll show up to the game and stop trying to lead.

The second story was a friend who loved me enough to share a verse with me: ‎

"But I tell you who hear me: Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you. If someone strikes you on one cheek, turn to him the other also. If someone takes your cloak, do not stop him from taking your tunic. Give to everyone who asks you, and if anyone takes what belongs to you, do not demand it back. Do to others as you would have them do to you."
—Luke 6:27-31. NIV

This was so good for me to remember, that it's not up to me to guard my money shrewdly but to give freely. Letting God be the judge. It was a breath of fresh air to remember that giving of my time, and my money, and my sanity (remember? Walmart?) was not in vain because he ASKS us to do that whenever it's required of us. And as a mother, it's required...in great demand.

The third story was from another sweet friend who told me of a time when she bought someone begging for food a hamburger and he shoved it in his pocket. She wisely pointed out what a friend had shared with her, that God keeps giving good gifts to us no matter how many times we've taken advantage. It was so refreshing to me to think of myself as the same as this woman. Here I am...hamburgers in my pockets running around this life.

It reminded me of a scenario with Lincoln this morning while I was trying to teach him (for the 1,000th time) what the number 8 looks like. He always forgets the number eight...alllllllllllllways. And my impatient self gets so fed up with it. Finally today, after making up some rhyme about how it looks like a snowman and him forgetting again (tally: 1,001) I was telling him "Linc why can't you remember this?" when I looked over at my bookshelf at all the wonderful Christian books we have. Books about parenting, and marriage, and faith, and the gospel, and sharing, and truth and anger....all things I read, learned once, and quickly forgot. Here I am belittling my sweet son for not learning lessons, when I myself am in constant need of reminders...talk about humbling.

I was so humbled to picture myself, hamburger in my pocket taking for granted the amazing tremendous gifts and truths God has given me, and he constantly blessing me over and over. And it is that generosity that I pray will motivate me to constantly give of myself to whomever may need, be it my 4-year-old when we pass the number 7, or the homeless druggie in the parking lot. We all have hamburgers in our pockets. I pray for the grace to remember them, and the hunger to remind us they're in there.

God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen

2010-12-24T06:46:00.003-07:00

I was reading this morning, to prepare my heart for Christmas I read Zechariah's song in Luke 1:68-79, and a phrase stood out to me. The entire song is beautiful as well is Mary's found in Luke 1:46-55, but one phrase in particular jumped off the page, Zechariah is reflecting on all that God promised to Abraham that will now be fulfilled and he says:

"to enable us to serve him without fear in holiness and righteousness before him all our days."

This was amazing to me. I struggle a lot with feeling the need to perform in my mind. Feeling the pressure to live up to expectations, and God has been working on me lately to sink the gospel deeper into my heart and continually remind me it is finished, and Christ's righteousness has been granted to me forever. There is amazing freedom in knowing that. To think about Zechariah's day, when it was keeping the law, and doing and doing, and making sure to stay within the bounds, they must have always felt fearful to break the law, then comes Christ, entering the world as a baby king, born in hay, and all the rules and laws were satisfied for those who believe. And because of that, I serve God without fear.

When I obey, or do something right, I do it with complete freedom to love my God with a pure heart, because the consequence of not obeying is gone. When I sin and fall short (which happens most often) I do it without the fear of any punishment or separation because I live (as Zechariah said) "in holiness and righteousness before him all my days." Did Mary have any clue when she looked at that tiny baby in that stable, that for thousands of years to follow the righteousness and victory that this man won, would be granted to countless people who were then freed up to walk in liberty and serve God freely with no fear?

So as I open my gifts tomorrow (some of which I am, materialistically, OVERLY excited to receive...yes, I buy presents for myself and I love it), I will think of the gift of Christmas. Not just forgiveness of sins, which would be more than enough, more than I deserve, but liberty to serve, a perfect record of righteousness forever, the constant love and acceptance of my heavenly father, the right to call Jesus "big brother", the prayers and intercessions of my savior, the freedom to run the race of life without any entanglements of sin or fear holding me back, and the countless other gifts that came to this world freely, wrapped in the humble package of a baby to a poor family. The tiny package, who's gifts would pour out to equal blessing upon blessing for generations. The light that broke into this dark world and shone on the faces of those dwelling in the shadow of death, inviting them to step out of that darkness forever. And all this granted to us by the same way Mary was blessed, "Blessed is she who has believed that what the Lord has said to her will be accomplished." (Luke 1:45) By turning our eyes to him, day after day, believing that he's too good to lie to us.

Merry Christmas, may you open gift after gift of your great salvation this next year, or for the first time, see the light shining on your face.

Uh-oh, I feel a metaphor coming on....

2010-10-07T14:13:00.003-06:00

So, I've been running....and one thing you should know about me is that I h a t e running. Okay, scratch that....I hate-d running. Till recently.
One day John and I were running and at the end of our run I started my usual monologues about "so-and-so" and how fast she is, and how good she is at running, and how she loves it so much so that's why she's so good at it, and he says something that was so profound and completely simple, "well, of course you're going to love anything you're good at."
well, that kind of blindsided me.
Then this morning I was running and I was thinking, "wow, this isn't as hard as it usually is, why is that?" and I realized I was on the run for the sake of running. Not for the sake of running 30 minutes, or 3 miles, or 3 miles in 30 minutes, or because I have to so I won't die when I run the homecoming race, etc.

These two thoughts have since really affected the way I think about my faith.
1. We love doing things we feel like we're good at.
So here's the amazing part. I don't feel very good at being a mom, or a wife, or even a Christian lots of days. I feel like I'm kind of grumpy, selfish, easily angered, etc. And as long as I'm focusing on those things....I kind of hate the burden of going what's right. It's too hard for me cause I feel like I can't do it.
But when I realize that God sees me as being "good" at it already, not cause of what I do or don't do on a daily basis, but because of what Jesus did, it helps me realize those moment to moment successes or failures don't matter. It doesn't bring me closer to God, or separate me from him, I'm already "good" at this not cause of anything I could ever DO but because of a savior that perfectly obeyed and won that righteousness for me.
Keeping my eyes fixed on this and not my failures makes obeying not a burden, but a joy.
2. As long as I'm keeping score, I'm going to be focusing on the failure, or the success and not delighting in the act.
If my eyes are fixed on "three screw-ups so far, five good deeds" I'll never be free enough to delight in the journey, the process, the identity that is secured for me. And half the time, I'll be so trapped by the numbers, quantities and measures floating around on my mental scoreboard that I won't even remember the crucial fact that I am loved loved loved, and accepted, right now, for who I am right now, and who I'll be in ten minutes when I do something less spiritual and more stupid than write this blog about Jesus.

In all of this, I've come to love and treasure the words of this hymn:
"Blessed Assurance, Jesus is mine,
Oh what a foretaste of glory divine.
Heir of salvation, purchase of God,
Born of his Spirit, washed in his blood."

You're a screw up? Great!

2010-06-05T07:04:00.002-06:00

You should maybe go get your Bible, cause you don't want to miss this. Or go to this website and look up Psalm 37 (www.biblegateway.com)...seriously, go ahead....I'll wait.

I was reading in Psalm 37 the other day, and felt led to make a list of all the words that described the righteous man listed there, here's what I found:

Trust
Dwell
Enjoy
Delight
Commit
Be Still
Wait
Trust
Do not Fret
Inherit
Dwell
Take refuge
Do not Fret

Are you sensing a theme? I was amazed at the lack of words like, strive, work, acquire, be good, etc. I mean, those words were not even in there, then this list made me want to make a list of all the things God said he would do for this person:

Give
Make your righteousness shine like the dawn
Give
Uphold
Know their days
Make their steps firm
Uphold
Love
Will not forsake
Will not leave
Exalt
Provide
Help
Deliver
Save

Are you catching the difference? God does it all. We rest, trust, dwell, and wait. He SAVES! Now, I think we can apply this to our salvation and then somehow forget about it, and start striving in other areas of our lives, thinking that we are now supposed to be appropriately matched against our battles. This is a lie! We are ALWAYS ill-matched on our own, and our God is the one who works out the victory in our lives for his glory.

Think of every great Bible Character, and you will not see heroes who were completely competent, and strong, handsome and witty, ready to meet every challenge with perfect completion and readiness. Not in my Bible at least. My Bible has a laundry list of people who God chose (and he DID choose us if we're believers) to accomplish his purposes, who were completely unable to do it in their own strength. Moses, Joshua, Gideon, David, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, Daniel, Peter, Jehoshaphat, Mary, the Israelites...ALL OF THEM!

He doesn't want people who are competent, he wants people who realize their incompetence and trust in an abundantly competent God. We MUST remember this the next time we are confronted with our lack (which for me, is daily). Surely there is some area where you have currently been made painfully unaware of your insufficiency. Surely there is some battle or foe in your life that seems larger than you and is coming from all sides. Surely there is some area where you start hearing a voice that's saying "You can't do this", or "This is bigger than you". If you have nothing like this in your life, then you're not living life!

Doesn't God allow times like his to deepen our trust and reliance on him. Doesn't he expose of insufficiency and tear away our strength at times so we are forced with the choice of running to a God of refuge who is bountifully strong. In Deuteronomy Moses says to the Israelites,
"The Lord will judge his people and have compassion on his servants when he sees their strength is gone and no one is left, slave or free. He will say "Now where are their gods, the rock they took refuge in, the gods who ate the fat of their sacrifices and drank the wine of their drink offerings? Let them rise to help you! Let them give you shelter! See now that I myself and He!" (Deut. 32:36-39) Right after this Moses tells the people, "These are not just idle words for you, they are your LIFE!" (verse 47).

Do you see that? There is life in recognizing our God will fight these battles for us, and we are not strong enough on our own. I am hoping you are facing something impossible right now. Not so you can have to go through hard things, but so you can see that God allows us to face things that sap our strength and reveal our lack of ability (for me that's just being a wife and mom). And then in light of that insufficiency, you can find life, strength and refuge in a God who is overflowing with power, and wants you near him. In his grace, he exposes the things that we start to put our life, trust and strength in (and often that's our own capability) and lets us scamper from thing to thing trying to find something to put our trust in, till we ultimately realize...the only place to go is God.

He is shelter, he is strength, he is refuge and he is mighty to save. Rest, trust, seek, enjoy, delight.
"As the scripture says, "Anyone who trusts in him will never be put to shame" (Romans 10:11)

A Whole New Beginning

2010-04-25T15:00:00.003-06:00

Most of these posts of mine are the same old stories, told in different ways. This one is no different.

This week I got into a car accident. I don't even have a cool story to tell that makes me look like the suffering victim. Nope, it was my fault. I drove into the back of a car. And I'm not even talking while I was driving. I was stopped at a stoplight, thought the cars in front of me were moving, and drove right into the back of the car in front of me...with gusto--I mean, this was no tap.
I get out of my car in the rain to see the 67-year-old man in front of me, using our Lord's name in a less-than-praiseworthy manner. Afraid, and unable to see very well through my tears I get back in the car. Sit there for a moment and remembered the discussion from small group the night before, about how God can use any hopeless stupid choice, and turn it around to work all things for good for those who love him (Romans 8:28). I immediately prayed through sobs and shaky limbs "God, please use this for good somehow".

I'm then informed that the man in the car I hit had just had shoulder surgery, and was being taken to the hospital in an ambulance on a stretcher. I know...I'm a jerk.

So I go throughout my day, looking for something even remotely positive in this when I find the man's address amidst all the tickets, and paperwork they gave me. I decided to put together a little care package, with some bread, homemade chili, cookies and heat packs for my new enemy. The one who cussed me after I rear-ended him.

I drag my husband and kids along with me, thinking, "if this dude cusses me again at least my husband will feel sorry for me", and when I get to the door I look at John and say something really brave like "I think I'll just leave it on the doorstep, ring the bell and run away". To which John refused and prayed for me. I walk up to the door and ring the bell holding my pathetic little peace offering ready to ask forgiveness and the man answers.

He takes a moment to survey the situation (me standing in the rain with my food bags) and begins to tell me how glad he is that I showed up because he wanted to apologize to me. I stand there shocked, next to my husband, and we begin to have a 15 minute conversation with my new friend about life, parenting, God etc. He mentions that he lives alone, and gets so lonely sometimes that he'd talk to the walls. So, it's my new plan to take him cookies every couple weeks and talk with him for a few minutes since, well...we're now friends.

So the point in that is that God can bring good out of even the most hopeless things.
Which beings me to part two of the story.

The very next day I'm babysitting a friend's sweet little daughter and we're all having a great day, for about the first 20 minutes. Then my kids decide to call all the powers of hell to rebel, scream and throw fits at any opportunity they can find. At one point, after about 2 and a half hours of my kids working in tandem to ruin my life (I know, they weren't really, but you didn't see them!) I'm sitting at the top of my stairs, while Linc is screaming in the bathroom and I decide I absolutely must start praying.

I start praying "God what do you have for me in this? Where is this going?" and much more faith-filled things like "I can't do this" and "you should have picked someone else". When God turns my ears to the tiny voice of the little girl I'm babysitting singing at our kitchen table. This still small sweet voice singing the same simple refrain over and over again. "It's not an end, it's a whole new beginning."

And I stare straight ahead, dumbfounded as to why she'd be singing something this profound over and over. Then find the strength to continue in my day to day, all the while this refrain ringing in my ears.

In the days that follow God used the previous two stories to encourage me again and again.

Our pastor said once that God's address is at the end of ourselves. And I find great encouragement that even the most bleakest of times, the deepest miry pits, the darkest valleys are capable of turning into the most promising scenarios as we rely on a God who can turn all things to the favor of his children. He is infinitely resourceful and unfathomably loving. And as I come to the end of myself, I find the beginning of a life surrendered to a purposeful God.

Harriet Beecher Stowe said, "When you get into a tight place and everything goes against you, till it seems as though you could not hang on a minute longer, never give up then, for that is just the place and time that the tide will turn."

The next time you're at your end...have hope and thank God for his new beginning, that is waiting to break forth.

Her Wastelands like a Garden

2010-02-17T15:02:00.005-07:00

Have you ever contemplated the depths or lengths that God would go to just to pursue you? I'm not talking about before you became a Christian (although that's true as well) I'm talking about once we already accept Christ as our Savior and then choose to blatantly disobey and choose our own way, our own sin, over God's best.

Let me provide an example.

Most of my blog posts start with a story about how I am an awful sinner, as well they should, because a realization of my own poverty provides the utmost bedrock of a foundation for the gospel and glorious grace of Christ. So..we begin.
I am a sinner. An awful one. I'll skip through a few juicy and ugly details to let you know the gist of things. I was completely awful to my husband. I mean, not loving, rude, sharp-tongued, awful. You would have stared at me with your mouth open. I'm not proud of it, I'm not boasting in it, I know...it was bad.

And I don't typically have a problem accepting grace that comes after repentance when I've done something particularly stupid, but this time was different. I was having a really hard time knowing my forgiveness, walking in it, and receiving the gospel afresh after having screwed up so badly. I spent the morning groveling (which is just pathetic) to both my husband and my God. And praying that God would somehow be able to reaffirm his love for me, and wash my mind in the truth of my salvation anew. So there I am, two hours later, sitting at my Bible study and the leader asks for an answer to the 2nd question. I look down at my answer, and see it, almost blushing at the specificity with which God was speaking to me and then quickly look back up (making sure to avoid eye contact with my leader, lest she call on me to answer). I'd much rather sulk in my pity, than receive the truths God was trying to say thank you very much!

Well she called on the girl next to me, and then the girl across from me, and then a few more until it was apparent that no one else had answered the question but me. So I was the only one who could answer it. Here I am...clearly the last one in the group to be called on (at which point God is practically screaming in my ear--say it already). I look at the leader and make eye contact (ugh...now I HAVE to answer) and begin to talk....or should I say cry...like a baby.

Here's what I read. The question was "What did you find interesting or helpful in the notes last week?" My answer:
In the notes it talks about how Jesus predicts Peter's denial and loved him anyways, looking past the sin he would commit to the restoration that he would bring. The notes said: "What a comfort to know that Jesus knows my weakness, my present love, my future transformation in his hands, and loves me all through each stage as though I had already reached the perfection God promised will one day be mine."

Are you getting it? It was all about how Jesus called Peter, loved Peter, taught Peter, all the while knowing Peter would screw up and deny him, and yet Peter still was chosen, loved, and forgiven. The same is true with us. There is no ugly moment I will expose in my weakness and sin that God has not already seen, considered, and accounted for. They have all been laid bare, atoned for and nailed to the cross. What great freedom to live with such a truth.

God then brought my thoughts to Jonah, a story which my little Ellie has recently become obsessed with, and how this is a story of grace, not just to the Ninevites, but to Jonah. See God told Jonah to go and do something really hard, but loving for the Ninevites, even though they didn't deserve it (read: me loving my husband and being gracious and kind to him even when he was "unworthy" in my eyes), Jonah gave God the cold shoulder totally ran the opposite way and chose instead to hope they have to pay for their sins (read: me repaying evil for evil to my hubby, refusing to grant him that grace), God then pursues Jonah to the depth of the sea, in the belly of a whale to show Jonah grace, forgiveness, and a second chance because God loved Jonah.

There I was in the whale belly of guilt, when God graciously reached down, revealed his love for me yet again, and restored me. See, God's in the business of restoration. Why does David talk in the Psalms over and over about his life ebbing away? (Read Psalm 107...soon!) About the storm raging, and the desert places being....deserted. And then talk about how God lifted him up, calmed the storm to a whisper, and made the deserts like a garden? Because God delights in us needing him! Because he wants to restore, make beautiful, calm and comfort! He's about that!

I love it! I pray that I will always be aware of my need for saving, that I'll always have some stupid thorn in my side that will show me my need for a savior, that God will graciously let me be lowered down to the pit on my own (even though it hurts like hell) just so he can bring me back up when I cry to him.

"The Lord will surely comfort Zion and will look with compassion on all her ruins; he will make her deserts like Eden, her wastelands like the garden of the Lord. Joy and gladness will be found in her, thanksgiving and the sound of singing." Isaiah 51:3

Give it away

2010-01-27T14:06:00.003-07:00

Sometimes we hear the same verse, story, message again and again. I'm thankful for that, cause God knows it take a little more than one time for my ears to hear him. Recently in church we heard a sermon on the woman who anointed Jesus' feet with all that she had in her alabaster jar, then again we read in my Bible study (the same week) about when Mary poured her expensive perfume over his head to anoint him and Judas condemned her extravagant gift.

Praise to God, this week I had a profound opportunity to put this into practice. My very generous mother-in-law gave me a beautiful gold necklace. I, however, don't really wear gold jewelry and John told his mom this (I would have never said anything and just kept it, but my husband does not accommodate such social graces. So my mother-in-law told me to sell it. John also told me I should sell it. So I started rattling through in my head all the things I'd love to buy with it, and decided I would ultimately buy a pair of UGG boots, to keep my feet toasty in the Colorado snow.

That was a long story...but bear with me. So here I am, thinking often about the new boots I'll get, and how cute they'll look, and how I'll get some great attention with these adorable boots and will have something practical to wear (I'm just being honest here, I know it makes me look ugly, I'm okay with that). So fast forward a few days to our friends inviting us over for dinner. Now, she's a stay-at-home mom, and he's a musician, and they're on a tight budget. So she begins telling me this story after dinner about how she dropped her wedding ring in the disposal and ran it, and the ring is trashed, the stone is gone etc. They didn't really have the money to buy the ring from the jeweler (they had the same one still for sale) so she was going to have to scrounge up enough gold to sell to buy the ring.

So you know where this is going. I began thinking about the woman who gave everything, extravagantly. And God totally put it on my heart to give her the necklace so she could use it to put towards her wedding ring.

This caused such an overflow in my soul, blessed me so greatly, being able to let go of this covetous, worldly side of myelf that just wants more more more, and give. After this happened, God began showing me more and more where I can spend myself.

Listen to these verses:
"For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me and for the gospel will save it. What good is it for a man to gain the whole world, yet forfeit his soul?" Mark 8:35-36

I began thinking about how tightly I hold on to things of this world, to wanting more, to struggling to give even a little, and I'm not just talking money, I'm talking how hard it is for me to give of myself, my time, my energy, my prayers, to my kids, my nation, my husband, my world. I often do nothing because I feel I can only give a little and believe that it won't amount to anything. I think of problems like the sex trafficking industry, Haiti, orphans, abortion, a world that hurts and groans out for a Savior and some hope. And I know that hope! I can share it! Yet I'm so greedy, so caught up in my pursuit of gain, in my selfishness that I turn a blind eye. Today I heard a speaker say this and it was as if God was speaking directly to my heart:

"nobody is greater mistaken than he who did nothing because he could only do a little."

Go forth, and give your life away.

Listening

2010-01-16T08:36:00.002-07:00

The other day I went to pick Ellie up from the child care at Bible Study and when I got to the door and saw her in someone's arms she was completely content, not even looking my direction. As soon as I said "Ellie" she turned fast immediately knowing whose voice she heard and reaching for me.

There is something about mothering that creates in us a gaping hole for Christ continuously. That is why I want more kids, and at the same time don't know if I can handle more. I am shepherding my little ones, as I am being shepherded. When I saw Ellie's reaction to my voice, God recalled this verse to my mind:
"He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. When he has brought out all his own, he goes on ahead of them, and his sheep follow him because they know his voice." John 10:3-4

There are so many voices I'm tempted to listen to throughout my day. Second by second voices are telling me I should put my kids in daycare and get a job, because this is too hard for me. That I'm ruining them. That I'm not good enough. That I'm always tired, grumpy, snappy, and that's what they'll remember me as. That anyone else could do a better job than me, or that mothering is not one of the best ways I could spend my prime of life.

I pray that I will spend enough time listening to my own shepherd's voice before all the other voices begin in my day, that when they start with their lies, I will clearly hear and follow my true Shepherd, and react just like my little Ellie the moment she knew her mama was near. Crying, reaching, and striving to be near.

The Lord is my Shepherd

2010-01-14T07:07:00.002-07:00

Mommying got hard again. Dang it.

I coast. Seriously, I'll be drifting along, running my errands to Target, doing whatever I want to do (emphasis "I"), when eventually I realize, I'm not even investing in these kids. So I start staying home more, being more there, being more engaged to train them, and then...it starts to suck.
Or at least suck the life out of me.

Recently I've been reading about God being our Shepherd and this morning found particular peace and encouragement in my Good Shepherd. Particularly the fact that he goes before me.
Here's what he said to me this morning:

"Jenn, I've been on this part of the trail already, I've seen it, and it gets a little rocky. It's probably going to be hard for a while, but I wouldn't lead you here if I didn't KNOW that you could do it. Just follow me, put your feet exactly where mine go, don't stray off and if you do, trust that I'll bring you back here. Follow. I have been before you. I know what it's like and I'm leading you somewhere amazing."

Read Psalm 23

The Tomato Said it Best

2009-11-03T06:53:00.004-07:00

If you've been a parent for long, surely God has used veggie tales at some point to remind you of a spiritual truth. It sounds ridiculous, but there has been more than one occasion that I've found myself crying over a talking vegetable reading a Bible verse. Go ahead...laugh....keep laughing.....
Okay, now, can we get on with this?
The cool thing about God is that he knows what we need before we do. Like last night, when I watched the Gideon movie with Linco.
There were so many things that I thought were amazing about Gideon's story. How he trusted the Lord to provide his strength, How God had chosen him to carry out this trust and see a great working of God's strength, and that he was weak.

So much I could relate to. But then I clicked off the power, and started to put Lincoln to bed. Little did I know I was about to face the hardest battle I had ever had as a mommy.

We started going through the bedtime routine and he started to disobey. I began dealing with it, and he continued to refuse to disobey. I can't describe specifically what was going on, but I began to flounder when I saw nothing I told him to do had any weight. I would tell him to do something, and he'd coldly stare back at me and calmly ignore me as if I had said nothing. I kept telling him to do the same thing and he continued to refuse.
This went on for entirely too long (me feeling frantic and terrified of how long this would happen--I HAD no collateral) until I threatened to throw away his beloved (and most prized) Larry Boy mobile.

Guess what...It's gone (your kid might be getting it for Christmas). That....was really hard, and later I shed many more tears about having to throw away the Larry Mobile (I know...in John's words "It's just a toy".)

Finally, the straw that broke it was threatening to throw away his favorite stuffed animal (which I would have done, and hated even more). He complied and broke down.

Okay....before you start on me--let me tell you that I know! I look back and see all the things I could have done differently, I could have set a timer and given him some time to think and walked away--prayed my face off--then walked back and asked him to make a different choice. I could have been more loving and reassuring in the midst of it. But in it...I was pathetic.
I put him to bed, called John and bawled my eyes out all night long. Bemoaning my "unfit"-tedness as a mother, the fact that I'm ruining my kids and that surely they're going to end up as drug dealers or drag queens some day because of my lack of wisdom. I finally fell asleep, way earlier than normal, exhausted and with eyes so swollen from crying I couldn't see out of them (but somehow resisted the urge to drown my sorrows in an entire bag of Halloween candy).
This morning, I woke up feeling like I never wanted to set foot on the ground again, and I sure didn't want to do the mommy thing today.
I got up anyways, and began to read my Bible. I decided to read....Gideon.

Here's what God showed me:
1. God refused to drive out the enemies of the Israelites as he did before as a test of their reliance on him (Judges 2:17-18). Isn't this the same thing as my situation? Every time Lincoln disobeys, and I have a chance to deal with his disobedience, I am doing so out of obedience to God. I am addressing Linc's rebellion because I have to obey God. It's a chance for me to respond to God with obedience, and respond to my kids with love and gentleness (instead of what I want to do, which is ignore it and look the other way). The point is not to get really good kids, but to grow closer to God in the way I parent (or do anything for that matter).

2. "When the angel of the Lord appeared to Gideon, he said "The Lord is with you, mighty warrior." (Judges 6:12) God is also with me, the outcome of my kids depends not on my own strength or amazing parenting, but to God, who will work in Lincoln's life in some way, no matter what I do. I put way too much stock in my own actions. Also, he called Gideon a mighty warrior, even before he was one. Just like God sees me as all the wonderful and perfect things I have inherited in Christ, even before I have become them.

3. In Hebrews 11:34 Gideon is spoken of in the "Faith hall of fame" as being one "whose weakness was turned into strength" and "who became powerful in battle and routed foreign armies". This is all attributed to Gideon because of his faith in God. Not because of his skill, wisdom, or quickness with the sword. How--too- can my weakness not be turned into strength as I respond to God with obedience?

4. "The Lord turned to him and said "Go in the strength you have and save Israel out of Midian's hand. Am I not sending you?" Judges 6:14
Now, we can know from scripture and the promises of God to us who believe two things: 1. We have strength too (God's spirit lives in us) and 2. He has chosen us.
I have been chosen to take care of these children I've been given. I could give you countless scriptures about how God has appointed us as mommies to be there with our kids, training and raising them. So there's no mistake there. Also, I have the strength from God's Spirit living in me to do good to my kids, and obey God.
All it takes is applying that faith in this in my own life.

So today, I'm beginning fresh. Believing in what God says, and holding on to this whole "mighty warrior" thing. If you see me at the grocery store wearing my kids plastic costume armor...now you know. Have a great day, mighty warrior!

Seeing Dimly

2009-09-11T06:48:00.003-06:00

It's been a while. I mean...I've missed you! But I have to say I've just been through a bit of a desert in my spiritual walk, a time where it was so hard to hear from God. It was painful, and hard, but the revelation at the other end was worth every moment of suffering, and it's with much rejoicing I'm writing now.

There are...eight mirrors in my home. Not to mention many things that can be used as mirrors. Maybe this wouldn't pose a problem in your home, but here...it does.
Everywhere I look, do you know what I see? Myself. Constantly. It's me, my thighs, my hair, my skin, my giant pores, my tummy, my stretch marks, my outfit, it's nauseating really. (Not that I hate myself, I realize God has made me and I am His creation). Recently, I was praying, asking God to speak to me, asking him to draw me back to him, to reveal any sin stealing me from him (kind of like taking inventory) and I realized many things had begun creeping in that were drifting my soul. I had begun comparing myself, I had begun comparing even my dear husband (to other men--I am ashamed to admit, this path didn't lead me to good places), not only that but I was constantly taking a visual "sum up" of myself in the mirror (constantly).

So one morning in my time alone before God I began reading about this process and one of the possible explanations was pride. And that's right about when the Lord metaphorically picked up the Strong's Concordance (hardback version) and smacked me dead in the forehead (lovingly, mind you).

I was completely eaten up inside with self.
A verse comes to mind: "Do not be deceived: God cannot be mocked. A man reaps what he sows. The one who sows to please his sinful nature, from that nature will reap destruction; the one who sows to please the Spirit, from the Spirit will reap eternal life." Galatians 6:7-9

And what does the world, and even more my home and it's 8 mirrors, constantly tell me to sow? My flesh! My body! My hair, clothes, self, self, self.

So I covered up every mirror in my home. I took trash bags, cut them up and taped them to every reflective surface I come into contact with. And I prayed that God would bless it as a fast and a sacrifice. You know the Lord, He is so faithful--He did just that.
As I'm writing verses on my trash bag mirrors, God shows me this. I have been looking to the mirrors over and over again to tell me how beautiful I am. To show me how I look, what I need to work on, what looks good and what doesn't, but I need to turn to God's word as my mirror.
"For the word of God is living and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart." Hebrews 4:12

Doing this has generously and exponentially increased the overflow of my soul. Which is a fancy way of saying, I'm seeing much more clearly things eternal. In fact, I'm seriously contemplating getting rid of many of my mirrors altogether.

Because what God sees as beautiful and lovely is not what this world claims is lovely (but you already knew that). (1 Peter 3:3-4, Prov 31:30,, 1 Sam 16:7). But above that when I look in God's word, do you know what he showed me? (This is my favorite part, I can hardly wait to tell you).

When I look into the mirror of God's word, and look to see how beautiful I am, do you know what God says he sees?
"God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God." 2 Corinthians 5:21

When He looks at me--He sees the righteousness of Christ. How can I ever compete with that (even on my best day).

So the next time you look in the mirror, I want you to think this-- "We live by faith, not by sight." 2 Corinthians 5:7, and rejoice friend, at how much better you look to God.

God of the uglies

2009-07-12T14:16:00.005-06:00

I know, mull over the picture, stare at it in unbelief, relish the thought that I could actually look like that (minus a few photoshopped out teeth) and get over the fact that I publicly posted it for people to view.
Now...can we get on with it?
It is with tears that I've pressed up under the burden of this truth.
John came home this week after being gone for 7 days...now in mommy time...that's like an eternity (I felt like Abigail Adams).
After 3 days of not showering or washing my face (I am not exaggerating) and giving a baby shower that same evening all I had time to do was put on a t-shirt that said "I love my husband" (yes....really) and a pair of jeans.
Now get this picture rolling around in the tumbler of your mind. Greasy pony tail (that sticks more out from my head like a rat tail than pony) pipe cleaner pieces of hair that are kinked from being slept on sticking out all over my head, a big zit on my chin, coffee breath, and 3 day old mascara collecting under my eyes.
I looked awful...it was factual.
And here comes my sweet adoring (and newly tanned) hubby waltzing in the door with a giant bouquet of flowers and a dazzling smile.
I was so embarassed.
I don't think I've ever felt uglier.
And I finally told him, "I'm so embarassed you're seeing me this way, I look awful." To which he responded, "Honey you're beautiful." To which I argued, objected, and stubbornly made my case to prove him otherwise, citing all aforementioned ugliness.
Then he looked at me with the most sincere face I've ever seen and said, "you have no idea." Which implied..."you have no idea how lovely you are to me."
(Here come the tears again)
I started crying, feeling so undeserving of such a sparkling compliment, and I bookmarked it in my mind knowing that somehow, God would bring me back to it.
This morning, God opened the book right back to that moment and showed me His translation.
I prayed this morning that I would not be hard-hearted, but that God would allow me to be broken over my sins, to see them appropriately, and to grieve over them. Off we went to church, happily ignorant of the pierce that would come to my heart.
I became so raw and aware of my sin during the pastor's sermon that all I could do was sob (and wipe my nose on John's shirt--something he graciously ignored).
And here's the most glorious realization that I have had come to my heart over and over again.
It is 100% by grace we are saved.
You know those hand cleaners that all boast they kill 99.9% of germs? And we're all left to wonder (aloud at times, if you're like me) what the other .1% is that it misses? Well, the cross of Christ effectively kills 100% of our guilt, condemnation and sin before God when we accept it in faith. Going in after that and trying to use something else to supplement and kill the other .1% that's left is not only redundant but it drags us down.
You know that verse in Phillippians where Paul talks about all his past credentials and how he counts them as "loss"?
"But whatever was to my profit I now consider loss for the sake of Christ." Php. 3:7
I recently read in a book that this word "loss" is found somewhere else in the New Testament in Luke's description of Paul's voyage in a violent storm, and the "loss" of cargo on that voyage.
See they would often have to throw cargo over to save a sinking ship. And it would be hard to let go of some of the stuff, because...well...it's your stuff. But that if we don't let it go we'll sink.
That's the same image Paul makes when he talks about throwing overboard the stuff he used to hang his religious faith on. All the "stuff" that made him righteous. He talks about it as cargo how that will drag us down in a big fat righteous sinking ship if we let it.
We have to toss it overboard because if we try and keep it, hold onto it, we'll go down in a sinking ship, thinking we're saving ourselves but forsaking the triumph of the cross.
So I go back to my original story.
It was only in knowing how ugly I looked that John's thought that I was beautiful meant the most.
I mean, there might be times when I've spent one and a half hours (pick your jaw up off the floor, I have done it!) putting on makeup and fixing my hair and I have on a killer new dress and when he tells me that I look pretty I'm more apt to agree with him. Then...it's nice, but it doesn't mean quite as much.
But at a time like that, when I'm painfully and uncomfortably aware of my hair raising ugliness, the thought of someone seeing me as beautiful shatters all my defenses and leaves me sobbing.
It's the same with God.
He doesn't want us to cling to our goodness, lest we might get fooled into thinking for a moment that we deserve a little bit of the grace He lavishes. He wants us ugly. Sharply aware of the unmerited favor He gives. Because it is about Him, and His grace, not us and our goodness.
For that reason I'll pray fervently that I always keep an accurate view of myself, my sin, and my ugly hair, just so I can always cling desperately to the cross I so love, and so little deserve.

Let's call it an intermission

2009-07-02T07:04:00.002-06:00

Alright, two things.
I'm no longer blogging daily about my Love Dare book. It's gotten to be too much to write a blog every day. I'm happy to interject at moments to tell you how it's going (because I will still be faithfully plugging through) but with two kids, writing daily is too much.
Also, I'm in a brief pause for two reasons, the previous day's dare had to ask your spouse some things that irritate them about you, and John wouldn't respond yet, so I can't act on it. So I haven't been able to complete it.
Also, John's going out of town for a week...so I can't really do it while he's gone.
Excuses, excuses right?
We'll return to it soon enough.

Day Three: Love Fest!

2009-06-30T14:01:00.002-06:00

Day 3:
The Dare: Along with restraining from negative comments, but your spouse something that says, "I was thinking of you today."
Based on the verse: "Be devoted to one another in brotherly love; give preference to one another in honor." Romans 12:10
Points that impacted me the most: Why do we have such low standards for ourselves but high expectations for our mate? The answer is a painful pill to swallow. We are all selfish. When a wife constantly complains about the time and energy she spends meeting the needs of her husband, that's a sign of selfishness. But love "does not seek its own." (1 Cor 13:5) True love looks for ways to say "yes". Remember, your marriage partner also has the challenge of loving a selfish person. So determine to be the first to demonstrate real love to them, with your eyes wide open.

This was so good for me. The text was the best part. It was helpful to remember what I was working towards when I made a special trip to the dollar store to buy him a bag of sour patch kids flavored cotton candy (trust me...right up his alley). The not saying anything negative has been really good too! I've had to get really creative on how I communicate and I realize that the majority of the time if I asked a few questions like "what do you mean?" or "I don't understand what you're saying" the situation is diffused. I'm aware now of how quickly I would jump to an emotional reaction without clarifying, and then he just goes on the defensive. Also, I've had to get very creative aobut how to problem solve. Like today when he started complaining again about how he doesn't like the diaper rash cream I buy and he doesn't think it does anything (the only brand he thinks that works id Desitin) instead of saying what I wanted to say---which I won't elaborate on) I just said, "How about I call the doctor and ask if they suggest a brand." YEAH! I know!
Two things have been interesting in this journey:
1. John commented to me last night about how little we've been arguing. I was overflowing with thankfulness to God for that fact. It's TRUE! It's amazing how much changing myself changed the equation. (Tributes to the MJ "Man in the mirror" song)
2. He's started looking more and more like the man I married.
And the funniest part is...his looks haven't changed....but my glasses have.

Day Two: Love Fest!

2009-06-29T09:38:00.004-06:00

I obviously skipped yesterday in my posting. Mainly because I realized that I need to be able to check the box of accomplishing the dare before I can write about my experience. We will now continue on our regularly scheduled program:

Day Two
The Dare: In addition to saying nothing negative to your spouse again today, do at least one unexpected gesture as an act of kindness.
Based on the verse: "Be kind to one another, tender-hearted, forgiving each other, just as God in Christ has also forgiven you." Ephesians 4:32
Point that impacted me the most: I don't even know where to start. This book is revolutionary in that you not only read something really powerful, but then you're told to DO something with it. I underlined the majority of the points on this day. Here is a sampling: "Patience avoids a problem; kindness creates a blessing. One is preventive, the other proactive." "Kindness thinks ahead, then takes the first step. It doesn't sit around waiting to be prompted or coerced before getting off the couch. The kind husband or wife will be the one who greets first, smiles first, serves first, and forgives first. They don't require the other to get his or her act together before showing love."
So good!
Here's what I did. Friday night John and I had a drag out fight (the night before I started the book). I was ironing and told him I was too tired to finish, he was upset that I hadn't ironed his shirt in weeks. I threw a royal hissy fit that included (but was not limited to) throwing his shirt on the chair, vowing to never iron anything of his for the rest of my life, and proceeding to look for things to iron of anyone else's in the house to make the point that I wasn't ironing his shirt abundantly clear (I mean, I was ready to go and wrinkle some clothes just to iron them to make him mad).
Okay, I warned you not only that I was immature, but also that I would be brutally honest.
So yesterday, I ironed his shirt. I didn't think he was going to say anything. He walked by me, and I was reminding myself of why I was doing it, when he got about halfway up the stairs he thanked me. This wasn't the "fall at my feet profuse thanking" that I expected, but I'd take it.
Then he added "Thanks....for doing your job." (he started laughing....I did not) He thought he was being funny but it really gets under my skin when he makes jabs like this. In fact, I paused for a moment and seriously contemplated sticking the hot iron on his shirt and walking away....that would have felt SO good. Resolved not to let it blow into a huge thing, I just reminded myself he was kidding, and didn't say a word.
So here's the second part (that I've already begun to touch on) it's getting harder not to say anything negative.
I'll be the first to admit that we need to confront certain issues in others. (ask anyone who knows me) The problem is I've gotten a little too good at the confrontation part. So I've realized I just can't say anything for a while. Till I get better at thinking before I talk. Eventually, I'll learn how to calm down, forgive, and then speak. Not there yet.
So I just shut it.
A lot.
And it's getting really hard.
But here's the sneaky thing that the author of this book doesn't tell you. When you're so concerned about making sure you don't say anything negative to your spouse. Your words are always on your mind. See, I'm being so careful to not want to break my dare and say something nasty, that I'm really thinking carefully about all the things I say. I'm even realizing when I just complain (and I think...wait....did that count?) So I'm realizing just how quick I talk, without thinking about the weight of my words. This has been awesome for me. And really has shown me how often my anger and quick tongue brings on arguments that I could have let go otherwise.
Anyways, all this to say, I'm loving it. I'm learning over and over that God is using this imperfect man, to butt right up against the rough parts of myself to change ME.
I recently read a really great analogy about how relationships are like a math equation. If x + y = z, (let's say John is the "x", I am the "y" and what we get in our marriage is the "z". Now, I'll never be able to change the "x". EVER!
Do you believe that?
But I can change the y...which will in turn change the outcome. See if I take x + 2y= something totally different.
Interesting how that works. God's changing the outcome...by changing me.

Yes...we can.

2009-06-28T06:55:00.004-06:00

I'm looking at this blank screen before me and my thoughts are feeling somewhat like jambalaya. Trying to lay out each piece in some sort of way that makes sense is going to be challenging.
There are a few questions I ask sometimes when I'm writing this blog:
1. Is anyone reading?
2. How can I communicate what God has taught me with simple little words.
I'm just going to pray that someone is reading, and that whoever it is that God will open their eyes to the same truth that he opened mine to.
Let me just jump right in.
Read this verse:
(this is where I spilled coffee all over my Bible)
God "determined the times set for them and the exact places where they should live." Acts 17:26
That's the first part: you are where you are on purpose.
Very simply. Wherever you are...whenever you are...it is right where God has determined you to be.
Here is the second part:
you were put there to DO something.
"But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people belonging to God, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light." 1 Peter 2:9
So, we are not put here to get, make, diet, acquire, survive, buy, get by, and coast. We are put here to change the world. We are put here to declare God's praises. We are put here to live for our eternal kingdom.
Don't miss that. Don't believe lies. Do not miss your purpose. Dont' waste your life. You have influence somewhere. You are called to do something with your life. To magnify Christ.
As a believer, living for anything BUT your eternal destiny in heaven is a waste.
NOW! I will qualify it just a little bit, God does want us to enjoy things he has given us. He has given us this life, it's acceptable to enjoy it. But don't enjoy it while believing the lie that it's what you're living for. Don't enjoy it at the cost of missing the bigger picture.
"Only one life...will soon be past, only what's done for Christ will last."
and.
There are only two things that are eternal, God's word, and people.
Invest your life wisely.
Here's the third part:
you CAN...through Christ.
Daughter....Son of God....do you even realize the powers that are bound up within your fleshly body? I don't!
"the kingdom of God is within you." Luke 17:21
Yeah.
I know.
That's me. That's you. Let's start living like it matters.

Triple Dog Dare!

2009-06-27T14:09:00.003-06:00

I submit to you a new blog series over the next 40 days! Let's call it "40 Day Love Fest"....cause it sounds cool.
John is forbidden from reading my blog for what I have told him is an indefinite amount of time, because I've recently decided to do the Love Dare book, and he doesn't know about it.
My commitment is to do the dare each day for 40 days, and write a short post each day for you about how it's going.
I will be completely honest. Our marriage will not look very good at times. And I will show you just how immature I am. (all of which makes you more excited to read it I'm sure...come on! Those gossip columns don't sell like hot cakes for no reason!)
Here we go....pack a lunch.
Day one:
The Dare: For the next day resolve to demonstrate patience and to say nothing negative to your spouse at all. If the temptation arises, choose not to say anything.
Based on the verse: "Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love." Ephesians 4:2
Point that impacted me most: "Patience helps you give your spouse permission to be human. It understand that everyone fails. When a mistake is made, it chooses to give them more time than they deserve to correct it."

Wow!
So...it actually hasn't been as hard as I thought. But I admit I haven't had serious annoying things come up that have pushed it as much as I thought. I did realize though how often I am the one that starts fights. I don't know if you knew this about me, but I tend to have a chronic case of diarrhea mouth. (which is a disgusting but completely fitting example of when you don't even control what you say at all and crap comes out way too freely). So today when Lincoln was bossing me around and I said "Lincoln, mommy doesn't obey you...who do I obey?" and Lincoln responded with "Daddy" to which john replied "you got that right" and I felt the urge to let out a big fat "Yeah Right--like that's ever gonna happen" but I instead responded with "No, mommy obeys God." (I think I actually made an audible "mmm"...when the words were getting ready to jump out of my mouth and I was trying to stop them.) Clearly this is a funny example of something John said (he wasn't being serious--so it wasn't too hard to keep my mouth shut).
But there has been more than one time where I've felt myself want to say something that I know would have snowballed into a huge eruption, and I chose instead to not say it...and things coasted along.
All that to say that so far...it's been a good thing for me. But, did I mention it's only 2:00pm?

whooooaa here she comes....watch out boy, she'll chew you up!

2009-06-18T06:44:00.005-06:00

Yeah...she's a maneater. Well....it applies to women too...she's just plain mean.
Guess who she is?
Yours truly.
I have a total mean streak. If you've never encountered it (although I doubt there is one of you reading who can't shout a big fat "AMEN" right now) hang around me a little longer, unfortunately I'm sure you will (although hopefully by God's grace you won't).
I'm doing a Beth Moore stud right now, and she recently touched on the topic of our mean streaks.
Let me tell you, my girl knows how to speak the truth (and I think she's also got a hidden camera in my house).
She touched on how "meanness perceives a threat." Which was revolutionary to me.
This means that when we react in a way that's showing that mean streak, that when we start feeling our hackles rise up and the claws come out (oh you've done it...don't lie), its because we're perceiving some sort of threat. I started thinking about this in my own life and it's so true.
Two things of note:
1. We have to identify the threat because we will have the capacity to react to it the rest of our lives.

I mean, if we're gonna battle this forever, or at least have the potential to, we might as well settle in on what it's going to look like amen?

2. Insecurity is at the heart of every rivalry.

We compare ourselves. Come on.....yes we do. I'll be the first to admit (and might even tell you out loud) that I compare myself to waaaay too many people. It's dangerous territory. The Bible says:
"But when they measure themselves by one another, and compare themselves with one another, they do not show good sense." 2 Corinthians 10:12
Let me tell you, I have had a figurative measuring stick in my back pocket from the moment I was wearing a training bra. And it is NOT fun to be constantly measuring.
I am done measuring. Will you be too?
I started realizing when I feel this mean streak coming on, and what makes the streak come out most often. I realized it's usually when something I put great stock in being good at is threatened. Think about this one with me:
Someone at the park comes up to you and wants to tell you something that your kid just did wrong (I'm not talking good natured friend--I'm talking the mean mommy who thinks their kid is better), are the hackles coming up? How about your husband trying to question the way you parent your kids during the day? Whatever it is, it seems that we get most riled up when we see whatever it is that we use to find our security and worth in being threatened (being a mommy, wife, house cleaner, party planner, wedding coordinator (those are all mine you know).
Now let me give you something to build your tent on (and you better camp there I'll tell you now):
You are worthy because you are a daughter of the Creator of the Universe.
Don't you DARE believe one thing less than this. Not for one second!
Your worth is not based on one lie that this world will tell you.
You are not worthy because you are a good mama.
You are not worthy because you are a sweet wife.
You are not worthy because you are a good friend.
You are not worthy because you have enough scriptures memorized.
Your worth is based only and entirely upon being a daughter (a princess) of the King of Kings.
And that sister....will never change.
You can camp there and the moment you start feeling threatened you just start remembering that your worth is based in something that will never change falter or fade. Your worth is not less on a day when you scream at your kids. Your worth is the same every day of the week and twice on Sunday because it is based in being a daughter of God.
"My salvation and honor depend on God; he is my mighty rock, my refuge." Psalm 62:7
"As a bridegroom rejoices over his bride, so will your God rejoice over you." Isaiah 62:5
Now I want you to get in your head a picture of your sweet husband's face when those doors opened up for you to walk down the aisle. Remember it? I do. Like the day is long! Remember how excited he was? Did his face just light up? I'll tell you something sweet sister, our husbands faces may not do that every time we walk into a room...but our God's face? Does. We who have been clothed in Christ's righteousness by accepting him as our Savior should settle for believing nothing less. And our value in God's eyes does not change ever. Christ is our righteousness, we are his sisters, he is not ashamed of us. And he delights in us.
"For both the one who makes men holy and those who are made holy are of the same family. So Jesus is not ashamed to call them brothers." Hebrew 2:11
Don't you prostitute your worth out to anything else. And don't you believe one more lie.

God the balloon popper

2009-06-16T09:45:00.006-06:00

Where do I start?
Lincoln just had a birthday. So we have a giant Batman balloon that we have tied several other smaller balloons to the end of. Here's the thing, the Batman balloon is big, it's filled with lots of helium, and the other smaller balloons tied to the end of it are... smaller. So in the morning, my father in law would come upstairs (they're visiting from out of town) and see the Batman balloon sinking closer and closer to the ground, and he would grab the end of it, pull it down and cut one of the balloons free. The Batman balloon would happily rise back up to the top of the ceiling, glad to be free of the weight of that other balloon, only to be plagued again the next morning by yet another heavy balloon that needed to be free.
Is the imagery smacking you in the forehead yet? Just wait.
So here I am this morning, at the table, reading my Bible and here's what I read:
"You adulterous people, don't you know that friendship with the world is hatred toward God? Anyone who chooses to be a friend of the world becomes an enemy of God." James 4:4
and
"for while we are in this tent we groan and are burdened, because we do not wish to be unclothed, but to be clothed with our heavenly dwelling, so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life." 2 Corinthians 5:4
And after reading that I look up from my Bible, feeling so heavy hearted and frustrated that I can never get it and weary and like I just can't fit in this world. And my father-in-law just cuts one balloon free and up it goes (at this point it hasn't dawned on me yet) and then he says "those other balloons keep weighing it down, we just have to cut them off one by one, and we'll cut another one off tomorrow."
WHOOSH!
I remembered a conversation I had with my husband the day before, where I was telling him how hard it is for me to feel forgiven, and all I see is the things I need to change, and I just wish I could be better at walking in the spirit by now. And he tells me how I've learned to live this way all my life, and God is taking the time to remove the things one by one. The sin....the things that weigh me down. And he'll never be done doing it, he'll just keep pruning, and removing them one by one.
"Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us." Hebrews 12:1
It's the process of sanctification, but it's nothing without grace to cover it. If I'm just left getting pruned over and over, it hurts. I feel condemned, but knowing that I have so great a salvation that my sins are already taken care of, I am encouraged. And strengthened.
"Though you have made me see troubles, many and bitter, you will restore my life again; from the depths of the earth you will again bring me up. You will increase my honor and comfort me once again." Psalm 71:20-21
That's what he's in the business of doing after all. Increasing honor and comforting. But how does he do that? By getting rid of the stuff that drags us down, again and again, so that more of him (more of what the balloon was made to do....fly) can happen.
I could go on forever. I love it when God shows me something in my life that illustrates exactly what he's teaching me. I'll never look at balloons again without also remembering the faithful God who helps me become more of what he created me to be. And who lovingly calls me daughter the whole time.

Dancing without the Shackles

2009-05-28T06:57:00.004-06:00

There is no way to write what I'm going to write in order to convey the excitement I'm feeling, the liberation that came to me over the past few days. These words that I'm staring at as I type look pathetic to communicate what I'm feeling. Please just know that I have seldom been so able to breathe as a result of hearing anything.
Get
your
head
around
this.
If you've ever read my blog you'll quickly get a picture of a reasonably miserable woman, struggling in her own strength, trying to rely on Christ's power to live a better life. And writing again about how I've failed. I was living my life behind these constant prison bars of guilt. I was living as a Christian, but subjecting myself to the law. Every time I disappointed someone, or gossiped, or coveted, or was snippy (which is a nice way of saying I acted like the "b" word), I would put myself into this little cell, lock it through the bars and toss the keys outside and then cry, thinking how miserable it was to be locked up.
Lucky for me my Savior is the jailkeeper....and wants no one to be locked up.
I'll just pass on some quotes here:
"No sin can be crucified either in heart or life, unless it first be pardoned in conscience, because there will be want of faith to receive the strength of Jesus, by whom alone it can be crucified. If it be not mortified in its guilt, it cannot be subdued in its power." William Romaine, one of the leaders of the eighteenth-century revival in England wrote this. It was revolutionary to me to think that every sin I commit in this life as a believer, because I have accepted the only remedy for sin (Christ), has no penalty with it. That kind of deflates it huh?
I do not have to live with guilt anymore.
For someone who continually feels guilty, this is pretty remarkable.
See this verse: "Blessed is the man whose sin the Lord will never count against him." Romans 4:8
Did you catch that? Never? Like never....ever....ever!
And that's ME!!!!
"Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit of life set me free from the law of sin and death." Romans 8:1
I was living as someone who was condemned and I was trying to allow fear, of disappointing God, of impending doom, of a death sentence when I get to heaven, to motivate me to be a better person.
Get this into your head......
fear is not a motivator for change.
Condmenation is not a motivator for change.
What is a motivator? Love. Freedom. Namely, the gospel. Christ's love is the motivator. And we find that "I love you" in the gospel.
Listen to this quote from Horatius Bonar, a 19th-century scottish pastor.
"Terror accomplishes no real obedience. Suspense brings forth no fruit unto holiness. No gloomy uncertainty as to God's favour can subdue one lust, or correct our crookedness of will. But the free pardon of the cross uproots sin, and withers all its branches. Only the certainty of love, forgiving love, can do this...."
This was revolutionary to me. A final verse, that will remain in my mind:
"For Christ's love compels us." 2 Corinthians 5:14
The author of the book I am reading, Jerry Bridges, said this:
"That is why we need to "preach the gospel to ourselves every day." It is in the gospel that we find those unsearchable riches of Christ that produce not only justification but also sanctification."
And there I will rest.

* Most of this blog was taken from the book "The Gospel for Real Life", by Jerry Bridges. A book I highly recommend, which has pointed me to verses in God's word that have revolutionized my view of the gospel and my salvation.

Kites, Strings, and God.

2009-05-23T13:48:00.004-06:00

Here's my problem.....
let me re-phrase that....
Here's one of my many problems:
I like to look like I have my act together. In fact. I really like to look like I have my act together.
I like to be pretty, to have perfect hair, I like to be skinny, and look like I have self-control, I like people to think I'm disciplined and smart and funny and a good mom, I like to have my Christian "act" together too.
The problem lies in the fact that I'm not really any of those things.
I may be a little bit of some of them at times, but it's kind of like buying a new barbie in a shiny package at the toy store, only to get her home and realize she has cellulite, bags under her eyes, and borders on paranoia in many instances.
I've been in this weird funk in life where I'm feeling totally apathetic and stagnant, even in my relationship with God. I've been praying everyday that if there is something I need to do, something I need to know, something I need to change, God should let me know. I'm willing.
But nothing.
It even seemed like silence.
Then one morning, it started clicking.
Here's what I read:
"In him you were also circumcised, in the putting off of the sinful nature, not with a circumcision done by the hands of men but with the circumcision done by Christ, having been buried with him in baptism and raised with him through your faith in the power of God, who raised him from the dead.
When you were dead in your sins and in the uncircumcision of your sinful nature, God made you alive with Christ. He forgave us all our sins, having canceled the written code, with its regulations, that was against us and that stood opposed to us; he took it away, nailing it to the cross. And having disarmed the powers and authorities, he made a public spectacle of them, triumphing over them by the cross." Colossians 2:11-15
So let's play a game....read above passage and notice one thing that is up to us to do.
You are correct! There are none.
I picture this like in the Jetsons where George is getting ready for work, and the machine is brushing his teeth, plopping him in the shower, brushing his hair, slipping him into his clothes, etc. God does it all.
In just these verses alone, we learn that He's the one who: circumcises our hearts, raises us from the dead, makes us alive, forgives our sins, cancels the written code, and disarms the powers that stand against us.
He does everything, He saves us, He keeps us, we are His and He does the work.
Do you know how refreshing, how liberating that was to me?
To know that it is not up to me to do great spiritual things, to be pretty, skinny, smart and holy and put together? To conjure up these great feelings of spiritual fervor? I get to just be...and be used by God.
Then he gave me the most perfect, beautiful object lesson later that day that brought it full circle for me.
Linc is really into kites. He always talks about flying one. So I decided we would make a kite together.
Now....I do not pretend to have any skills whatsoever in this area. I taped together some straws, and string, and a garbage bag, and Linc thought it was one of the blue angels.
The whole time I'm making it...I'm praying "Lord, if you could just make this pathetic thing fly, that would be great. It would just rock his world if you made this thing fly."
So Linc is out in the yard, running back and forth at full speed, dragging behind him a piece of thread with this mangled, heap of garbage bag and straws and tape on the ground and it dawns on me.
I've been doing that very thing for a week.
Running back and forth, on my own, dragging my sickly looking little garbage bag kite, wondering why it wouldn't fly....the whole time completely refusing to accept that it is the wind...in my case God...who makes it fly.
Without the wind....the kite is pathetic.
Without God working through me...I'm just this sorry excuse pretending to know what I'm doing and obsessing over my hair.
I was talking to John this morning about how "so and so" seem to have such a good marriage and have their act together and I told him "Honey, we're all in the same soup...some of us just fake it better than others."
It's true. I like to fake it, I like to try and work my way into this cookie mold of a wonderful Christian woman....but really I'm just running around like a fool dragging my kite on the ground.

Mountains...Valleys....and plains.

2009-05-16T06:41:00.004-06:00

Lest you think I am (or think myself to be) a "good Christian" (as if there were such an absurd thing)--this post will seek to smash all arguments to support this.
John and I have a little saying in our home, "mountains and valleys". Maybe we didn't think of this, but it makes me feel cooler and smarter to have thought up a phrase like this....so I pretend it is unique.
For example, I called John the other day and recalled a story to him about how Lincoln had peed on the floor twice and then came up to me and told me he had to sit on the potty. John was excited, and I just smiled and said "mountains and valleys honey" to which he replied, "mountains and valleys".
So let's just say I had this day this week where it was abundantly, crystal, perfectly (like ocean on a summer day) clear that God was using me, interacting with me, right there engaging with my life. I felt so encouraged, I felt so uplifted, I felt so...important.
I read a line in a book I'm reading that really resonated with me, "God loves you the same whether you're being elegant or not. It feels much better when you are, but even when you can't fake it, God still listens to your prayers." (don't know how to properly "quote" said author in this blog....and can't find my writer's harbrace so......It was Anne Lamott who said it...in a book).
So let's just say the next few days were less than thrilling.
I woke up the next morning, and it was like before I set my feet on the floor I knew.....it was a boring day.
The whole day followed suit, and proved my point. BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORING.
Potty training, staying at home, pee on the floor, mac and cheese, bad coffee from Walmart. It was just all-around a Walmart brand day.
And the next day the same.
It kept on till I finally started telling God I couldn't stand it. I can handle being spiritually high. I can even stomach the lows where I feel like the scum of the earth and I'm totally empty of myself, but I'm aware of God's love for me.
I cannot stomach the mediums.
And I was just medium. Plain-jane.
I've got to be passionate about something or my bones will dry up, my brain will melt right out of my ears. So here I was talking to God.
"Lord, I don't understand--one day things are great and I feel like you're near me, and we're going out and doing great things and I'm totally in love with you and excited, and the next...I'm walmart."
It was really hard for me. I can understand why God would allow the mountaintops, even the valleys....but the plains?
I basically pleaded with God to say something....anything...even..."yeah Jenn...you're boring...I agree."
Then this popped into my head:
"But when he asks he must believe and not doubt, because he who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind." James 1:6
Yeah....that was me.
I had to stop and ask myself what I was doubting, and the result was a lot of dangerous lies that had seeped into my brain and were threatening to turning me into something awful and radioactive.
I was doubting God was still there with me.
The truth: "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." Deuteronomy 31:8
I was doubting that Christ's power to save me was still enough for me even when I didn't feel like it was.
The truth: "He saved us, not because of the righteous things we had done, but because of his mercy." Titus 3:5
So I realized that God is a God of the spaces. A God not only of the exclamation points. The question marks. The periods. But also a God that dwells over and in the moments where there is nothing.
He is a God of the mountains....a God of the valleys, and a God of the plains.
To believe anything less about my life is to believe less about Him.

I need a hero....yeah...sing the song.

2009-05-07T07:01:00.005-06:00

I'll keep it short. Cause I have to.
Recently, I was struggling and heartbroken over my response to a particular situation. You see I can coast along pretty well responding spiritually until something interrupts my comfort, and then it becomes increasingly harder and harder to respond in a way that is glorifying to God.
Well, as many of you know, my husband was out of town (and few things will press against your sensitive spots more than taking care of two children with no husband day in and out for a week).
Needless to say, I was not the most graceful, gentle, and kind person. I did and said some things that I will regret for the rest of my life.
I hurt someone.
Without dwelling too long on my failures, let's just say I was pretty heartbroken over it.
You know when you get to the point where it's easier to focus on yourself and how horrible you are than on the truth? I was there.
I was reading my Bible the next day, and began reading in Deuteronomy the list of curses. There it was, over and over pounding into my head and my soul, "cursed is....cursed is....cursed is..." and there was the specific one I had done. I was cursed. I was feeling that curse, that total separation from God because of my sin.
Let me just tell you...that felt miserable.
I was standing there, looking directly at a verse (I could have put my finger right on it) that said because of what I had done I was cursed.
In utter despair, I asked God, "Is it true? Am I under a curse? Am I cursed?" I asked Him to give me a verse of truth, a verse to speak to me that I could hold on to.
Guess what? He did!
"Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us." Galatians 3:13
And I realized all over again the wonder of my salvation, of my Savior.
Without the awareness that on our own we are completely and utterly futile....we can never have this salvation. And as we grow in our faith, we have the tendency to start thinking we are getting pretty good on our own and no longer need that message for our lives daily (though as good little Christians we don't like to admit to such apostasy outright-we begin to live as though we have accepted this).
Praise God for the realization that I still do need this. For the awareness once again of the truth that I lean on daily, that redeemed me from the curse.
And for the hero of a Savior I have....that became a curse for me.
I rejoice in anything that makes me look like a total fool so this truth can become more clear in my life.

Get your head around this!

2009-03-20T07:12:00.002-06:00

Okay...typing at the speed of light because I know it's only a matter of seconds before someone realizes I'm alone and comes to remedy that.
I was reading this morning (and as an aside, can I just tell you the encounters I have experienced with the living God as a result of setting aside time to read his word? Nothing in my life has compared, and I'm sure he will be faithful to do the same for you--in fact I dare you).
And I was having a hard time in my walk with God lately...just in my life in general...so I was rattling off all the things I was feeling to God...defeated, hopeless, guilty, tired, weak....when it dawned on me (I say that like I thought of it on my own...which I did not) that there are scriptures that speak to every one of these things. I decided to make a list of all these things that I was feeling...and look up verses to speak to them.
It was one of the sweetest realizations I've ever had.
I was looking up verses about being defeated because I truly feel this every day. Does anyone else feel this way? Here are just a few of the thoughts that will run through my head (and unfortunately come out my mouth):
"Oh..you did it again..way to go...I thought you were supposed to be better at this?"
"Ummm that piece of cake was huge, it was giant...I can't believe you finished it"
"Seriously, you know better than that, you'll never get this right, just give up now."
All these thoughts mix together (and mind you--they come straight form the mouth of the Father of lies) and they make for a very defeated, weary Jenn.
And I can easily feel like I'm never going to get it, like it's too hard, and like I'm exhausted. I could never do this battle every day for the rest of my life....
Do you ever feel this way?
Well friend--here is a tall glass of water:
"To him who overcomes, I will give some of the hidden manna. I will also give him a white stone with a new name written on it, known only to him who receives it." Revelation 2:17
Did your heart just rejoice?
Okay, let's picture this.
It's your kids birthday and you are SO excited to given them this present...let's just pretend you've been waiting their whole lives to give it to them, and you wrap it so perfectly and you give it to them--you know that feeling?
Well....get your head around this...the GOD OF EVERYTHING has a gift for us. I mean....if that were not enough....He specifically chose it for you, and will give it to you....that IS what it says...
and if that weren't enough, it's a new name.
I have nicknames for nearly everyone dear in my life; John is the hub or hubcap, Ellie is Peach, Peach Pie, Princess Peach, Linc is Bear, Linc Bear, or little Bear, my mom has been affectionately referred to as the mayor, My sister-in-law we call Crit, Critty Cat, my brother-BB-which stands for Brother Bear. I love these nicknames, because they show I really know these people, that I have a relationship with them that is mine. And my parents have some of the dearest nicknames for me--one of which my mom gave me that is so embarassing I won't even say (and which she put on my 16th birthday cake) but which I love so dearly because it is what she chose to call me when I was a baby--she gave it to ME.
Now...God.....(please fasten your seatbelts)
has a name JUST for you..that no one else knows. That kind of special name, a secret name, that I can only imagine will satisfy and address every facet of what he created us to be, and it's a secret...between us and God.
Okay, how do I type words that make you feel that feeling of driving down a highway with no windsheild? Cause that's what I feel when I read this.
I'm not making this up, he wrote it. And I can't believe he did.
The key is--it's offered only to the one who "overcomes". Now, don't immediately write this off like "well, that's not me--I can't do it." Because you absolutely can. The powers of the universe have been placed within your reach if you have put your trust in Christ as your Savior, and don't believe anything else.
Now I don't know about you...but that is enough incentive for me in this day and the next.
Friends...Romans...Countrymen..
do not let this thought ever leave you...
Your God loves you more than you can ever measure....and he wants you to know it.
Now--go overcome.

Ellie vs. the Blocks

2009-03-05T15:16:00.006-07:00

So, this blog post will surely echo the words of my previous blog post, but it has been so profoundly impacting me (picture God with a hammer, slamming away on my head...but in a good way..heh), that I have to elaborate a little bit more.
What is the one thing in your life that you don't think God can ever overcome? And here's another good question...why is it that we think our problems are the only ones too big for God to handle?
Very rarely do I start my days ahead of the game. Are you like me?
I'm awake...way earlier than I ever thought I'd be, in the hopes of salvaging a little time in the house where it is completely quiet and I can have some purposeful time with God...to ready myself.
And here I am...a cup of coffee (that's the carrot that gets me out of bed, if I'm being honest) and my open Bible. Totally ready to have this perfect little time to focus myself and start my day being super mom.
Then Ellie wakes up crying, then Lincoln 40 times, then John comes down and tries to talk to me (this all happens before 6:30am....I KNOW!!!)
I get really grumpy when my day starts off contrary to the way I want it to...and thus commences what I like to call the nosedive.
I am drifting along, relatively peaceful, able to handle anything, when a glitch in my plans happen and (CRASH) there I go, plummeting.
At this point, I'm getting so grumpy that I think "God, it's not even 7:00 in the AM and already I'm DONE!" This is about the time each morning that I start believing I can't.
You know..
I can't do this...
I can't keep giving....
I can't GET A SHOWER...
I can't keep from screaming at people...
maybe you don't know...but that's just my reality.
So...tuck that in your minds, and I'll give you a little Bible story.
God sends twelves spies into what was going to be the promised land for the Israelites, they see fruit, they see a great land, they see this amazing place that God has promised to give them...and they see...giants.
They come back.
They talk about how great the land is, how wonderful it seems, they TASTE THE FRUIT. And then they doubt.
"We can't do it, there are giants there, they'll stomp us like grasshoppers."
Enter...Caleb. A man who has so inspired the currents of my faith that I would love to meet him in heaven one day.
And Caleb silences them and their doubt and says this...
"We should go up and take possession of the land, for we can certainly do it." Numbers 13:30
Does something deep within the recesses of your soul resonate with this? It does in mine.
Again, the other ten spies chime in--focusing on the giants, the people that will surely stomp them to the ground, they say we can't do it...we can't.
Again, Caleb speaks--"Do not be afraid of the people of the land, because we will swallow them up. Their protection is gone, but the Lord is with us. Do not be afraid of them." Numbers 14:9
How profound an example. How true the power of God is.
I read a wonderful commentary (from my BSF notes) on this subject that said "the majority measured the giants against their own strength; Caleb and Joshua measured the giants against God...the majority had great giants but a little God, Caleb had a great God but little giants." (alan redpath)
I almost typed the question how big are your giants...but the more important question is...
how big is your God?
If you are in Christ, have all the powers of the resurrection not been made available to you to do His will? (and might I add, that mothering your children and pointing them to Christ, and loving your husband, and serving others, and sharing the message and the hope of Christ...IS HIS WILL) Are you the only one in the entire universe that God cannot reach? Are your problems the only ones in the history of the world that God will choose not to help you in?
Surely not.
Yet how anemic my own faith can be.
David, when facing his own giant said this "You come against me with sword and spear and javelin, but I come against you in the name of the Lord, the God of the armies of Israel, whom you have defied." 1 Samuel 17:45
Here is a final illustration and then I am done.
I was watching my baby Eloise the other day, sitting on the floor playing with blocks. And there was one block that she couldn't reach...she was stretching. She was determined, she tried over and over and over to reach it and it was at her fingertips, but she failed each time. On her own the block was simply a little bit too far.
I watched her...sit back...defeated, and give up on the block. She turned her sights to other interests, letting go of the hope of ever reaching it.
When she turned away, I moved the block a couple inches closer...perfectly within her reach.
She never again reached for the block. In her mind she had already resigned herself to the fact that she would never be able to get it on her own.
And she was right, but with my help...it was completely within her reach.
It is with tears in my eyes that I pose these final questions....
Is there a block in your life that you have completely given up hope on? that you are sure you will never be able to reach?
And then...
can you also picture a loving God....reaching his tremendous hand down...and scooting it a few inches closer?
He does...and He will.

For terrible parents only...

2009-01-30T06:31:00.005-07:00

Ever had those moments where you realize you've heard the same message over and over from different sources, on different days in different ways and it all of the sudden knocks you on your butt when you go "Oh....you were talking to me?"
Just had one....
Like to hear about it? Here it go!
I'm just not good at this parenting thing....don't argue with me here, I know better than anyone.
I found myself this morning coming to God again to confess my impatience, shortness and anger toward Lincoln and Eloise. I prayed "God, don't I say this every morning?" and I do. Truly.
I'd love to be done with it, and not be saying it anymore....but it's never going to happen (insert sad trombone noise here-wah waaaah).
And Glory Hallelujah Amen that I have received forgiveness for my sins and do not have to rely on my own goodness to save me...
but that's not the message completely.
See....after I was done praying I grabbed a verse laying on my desk that I had written on an index card a while ago and read it (just thought I randomly grabbed it...honestly not even sure why I did....well--I guess God knew).
"I pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened so that you will know what is the SURPASSING GREATNESS of His power toward us who believe." Ephesians 1:19a
Yeah....me too.
This was huge for me...especially when I realized a few more things.
So, parenting is really hard. It will only take about 5 minutes of being a parent to realize that you're terrible at it. And you might be able to coast a little while thinking you're good at it..but children have a unique way of proving you wrong one way or the other (little rebels). So in that moment of realization we have two choices:
1. Walk away head in hands in defeat and wallow over how ill equipped and horrible we are at this thing.."who even let me take this baby home anyways?"
2. Apply faith.
I know..you're all looking for a really earth shattering revelation and that wasn't quite as profound as you thought...but I'm getting there.
So, I usually resort to the first option. Here's the problem with that.
#1--it emphasizes me and my failure....which is obvious, but not where my focus should be.
Focusing on myself (even in a negative way) just reinforces myself and puts the focus back on me...not where it should be. See, I can think I'm doing a really great thing in saying "I'm no good at this" and "I can't do it" and "why me?" and "I'll never be" but that in itself is sin...that is...if I stop there.
If I stop there I am left with a lack of faith...a lack of faith in a God who is bigger than me...and with that...I can do nothing.
"And without faith it is impossible to please God" Hebrews 11:6
"I am the vine; you are the branches. If a man remains in me and I in him, he will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing." John 15:5
This is encouraging to me.
Because I've already learned I can't on my own, the problem is I stayed there. Now I have to work at remembering "But through Him I can". I'm praying that the eyes of your heart will be enlightened, that you will know the surpassing power available to you and that in the moments you are most weak in your parenting (a profession that has a terrible habit of bringing our junk to the surface)--you will realize that you have this power available. "His divine power has given us everything we need for life and godliness through our knowledge of him who called us by his own glory and goodness." 2 Peter 1:3
And that in the times that you find it hard to believe you will turn your face to God, humble yourself and pray: ""I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!" Mark 9:24.

The Happy Fluffy Feel Good Fun Blog

2009-01-25T06:56:00.006-07:00

The first line to type is always the hardest (praying in my mind for God's grace to give him glory in writing this, and also, hoping for some intervention in making this sound interesting enough to the rest of you.)
This is not a sermon....
but it might sound like one.
You know those things that wage war against your soul? Not the little nuisances you have to combat, like grumpiness or a bad hair day, I'm talking about things that rob you from your joy? Steal your peace? Destroy your pursuit of wholeness?
Man did I have a big one lately.
It is going to seem trivial, ridiculous, even naive to all of you (and it might be in reality) but it was a stronghold made of steel around my heart.
emphasis on the word..."was".
Everytime I'm getting ready to get on a plane I feel this gripping fear, this uncontrollable mounting anxiety where I picture myself (and these are the times a vivid imagination works greatly to my disadvantage) plummeting to the earth from 30,000 feet in a flaming tube that says Delta on the side (I'm just being honest).
Sometimes during takeoff I cry and feel like I can't breathe (this was not helped when my husband, in an attempt to calm my fears said "honey, the only part of the flight you really have to worry about is the first 30 seconds"......thanks).
Recently, I was convicted about this...realizing that my son is going to start learning it, and that it's doing my body great stress (the thought of flying was keeping me up at night, and was making me feel seriously ill...it was out of control) AND that I was showing a lack of faith in God in my fear.
Again....."was." (AMEN!)
So you can kind of tell where the story goes...and you obviously know I lived....hallelujah, but you don't know the process (which is where the real hallelujahs will come in!)
IT started when I began praying that God would give me victory in it and that He would give me verses from his word to combat the fear I was feeling.
If you ever wonder if God will help you in times like this...pray for Him to speak to you through his word...it's a prayer I have never seen return to me void....EVER.
I prayed this and then waited (I can think of many more useful things to have been doing...like maybe reading his word to see what I could find...nope...i'm a loser, I...waited).
A sweet, devoted friend of mine took up my cause, rallied some other lovely ladies and made me an entire book of verses to hold dear to my heart while my plane was plummeting to the ground.
Here's what God showed me.
We have an obligation to wage war...choices are constantly before us, and gripping vices wrap themselves around us in an attempt to hold us back and stifle God's work in our lives (did people stop reading there?) and we have an obligation to wage war against them....but how?
"The weapons we fight with are not the weapons of the world. On the contrary, they have divine power to demolish strongholds. We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ. And we will be ready to punish every act of disobedience, once your obedience is complete." 2Corinthians 10:4-6
So, forgive the imagery here, but the only thing I can think of is jihad......
a holy war against our own minds.
I don't know about you but I get pretty wrapped up in the world of Jenn...
my thoughts run this way and that, telling me everything from "You need to lose a few pounds", to "she said that because she was trying to really make you mad," to "your two-year-old has a personal life mission to make you miserable and embarassed" to..."your plane is going to crash in a burning heap because a goose flew into the engine"....get it?
The point is...they run rampant....all the time and lead me to believe things that are not only false, but are harmful and lead me down a path of destruction and fear and misery.
But there is great freedom in knowing what these verses said.....our weapons (the word of God and prayer) have DIVINE power...to demolish strongholds....
de-------mol----ish......like...obliterated and gone forever.
So I can hope in the fact that I can be done with this forever, and the way that is done is by taking every thought that comes into my mind (surely you can't take every thought, like the ones regarding what to eat but those ones that start to steal, kill, and destroy, the ones where you start to feel your insides turning a little, and the ones where you're pretty sure you're believing lies? Grab em by the neck) and hold them up against God's word to see if they are friend or enemy.
And then make those thoughts obedient.
Here's an example:
Jenn's Mind: you're gonna die on that plane of doom, and kiss your life goodbye
God's word: dont' let yourself believe that, God has said he will take hold of your right hand and he says to you dont' be afraid
Jenn's mind: oh....right....dang
See?
Obliterated. Demolished. Poof Crash Bang.
The great thing is, my thoughts don't hold enough substantial ground to battle God's word and win....God wins every time.
A moment of clarity came when upon stifling my fear, and rising in the plane above the clouds I saw beautiful sunshine. It was gorgeous. I realized upon seeing these that this was likely the first time I had seen the sun in my two weeks in Ohio. And here's the metaphor.
I was believing the whole time in Ohio, there is no sunshine, it's so gray, it's so depressing. Why doesn't the sun shine here? Only to be proved wrong when we rose above the clouds and I saw it had been there all along.
God is like that. We get so bogged down in our circumstances that we fail to see Him the entire time. We let ourselves believe things like "He's not here" "this doesn't have anything to do with him" and "It's too hard for me" only to be proven wrong when we look for him.
All that to say...the next time you're faced with clouds....wage war and rise above them. (Wow, that was slightly fluffier and feel-goody than normal)
By the way, note the picture that was taken out the window of the plane once.

Shepherds why this jubilee?

2008-12-24T14:19:00.004-07:00

Is there anything to say on Christmas Eve that has not been said?
There is some quiet wonderful magic that falls heavy over the world that can't be grasped or created...and I attribute it entirely to the heavens celebrating the miraculous incarnation of our Lord.
A Baby.
I know what babies are like, I've had two. What is more approachable...More friendly...More easy to relate to than a baby?
I can't think of anything.
I know when we're at the grocery store no one hesitates to come up to our sweet little Ellie bean and talk, smile, love. And without hesitation she manages to dish out the same unprecedented joy to all who approach. There is something so disarming about a baby that would melt the heart of even the coldest man if allowed. And villians would drop the load of pride long enough to look in the face of a smiling baby and giggle and coo.
And this is how the God of all creation chose to come to earth.
One could elaborate for hours on all the possible forms a great and mighty God could have taken...but he chose none of the likely options.
He chose the approachable one.
And one can only assume he chose such an option because he wants to be approached.
Now, I understand that it is not the baby Jesus we worship but this is how the salvation of all man began.
UGH! My heart shouts with joy at the thought of a God who would become man to tear off the shackles of sin that separated us from him, that held us back.
And now the greatest lines from the Christmas carols come in to perfect focus, "Shepherds, why this jubilee?", can you even imagine? They were there witnessing the God who formed them in the flesh....in, what I would imagine is the same kind of heavy, quiet, moment that we all can experience if we still ourselves long enough.
"God...and sinner reconciled", in one moment....and the journey to Easter began. The great liberator did something no heavenly mind could have expected or conceived.
And the world, long lay in sin and error, pining for a great king to set them free from the continual burden of trying to be good enough, strong enough, holy enough and failing every time.
Don't you see? Years of laws that could not be kept perfectly by anyone, a standard set so high that no one could possibly accomplish it, and now we can see...why a weary and burdened world would rejoice at the idea of a king that could free them from their slavery.
Ransom captive Israel....paying the price for a world that is held in shackles of death and the stench of sin and setting them free by taking away death's sting--completely conquering death.
So do R E J O I C E!
Join the triumph of the skies.
Feast and give gifts, celebrate, laugh and worship. Let earth receive her king. Let every heart prepare him room, because heaven and nature DO sing over this tiny baby king.
Do all the things that people do at Christmas but do them with the substantial basis of celebrating the most amazing birth our world has celebrated. Enjoy the sweet flavors, the songs, the smells, the looks on your children's faces and let those foreshadows turn your hearts to the heavenly celebration and banquet that awaits you...
and is made possible by...this great rebel Jesus. Because as good as this earth's celebrations may be God reminds us that no eye has seen no ear has heard no mind has conceived waht God has prepared for those who love him. 1 Corinthians 2:9
Merriest Christmas...tidings of great comfort and joy in knowing where your salvation rests and began.

I am second

2008-12-16T14:10:00.001-07:00

Stories of victory in the human experience.
www.iamsecond.com
I had to share it.

You won't like me when I'm angry...

2008-12-03T15:33:00.004-07:00

It's appropriate that my husband made me watch the Hulk this week, as it was a fitting parallel to my trip to Target with two children yesterday.
You see I've been struggling with this thing lately, maybe you can relate...it's called anger? (or around these parts--the rage virus, a la 28 days later)...
I digress (which by the way is the title I'm thinking of changing my blog to).
I've found myself, at several different moments this week, feeling so frustrated and angry that I want to kick, punch, scream (act more like the 2 year old than the mama). There was a culmination where I realized it had come too far this Sunday morning when my sweet, loving, wonderful (though not seeming quite so much of any of those in the moment) husband, proceeded to "pick a fight" with me before church.
How can I say this without someone being afraid of me...
I lost it.
I was so angry, all I could do was make nonsensical retorts that put me at a maturity level comparable to an 18 month old (with a slightly expanded and more "adult" vocabulary).
Afterward (when it's glaringly easy to see the light of truth) God gave me many chunks (mmmm, chunks) of wisdom.
Let me share with you what I learned:
A very wise woman shared with me this verse:
No temptation has overtaken you but that which is common to man and God is faithful, he will not allow you to be tempted beyond what you are able but with each temptation will provide a way out.
MEMORIZE THIS!!!
She pointed out two things about this verse that were helpful, the first being that what I face is common to man. It's easy to get sucked into our own black hole of womanhood, thinking that we are the only ones who struggle with this, or that we're alone in it--and that, my friends, is a complete steaming pile of.....
Don't try to deal with it alone, or pretend like you have it all together...you don't...neither does anyone else.
Also, she pointed out that we ought to pray to God to have him reveal what our opportune times for temptation are.
For example (and again, these are from the wise sage of a woman, not myself) in Luke 4:13 it says that Jesus was tempted in the desert by the devil and then it says:
When the devil had finished all this tempting, he left him until an opportune time.
So it's clear that the devil prowls around waiting for a chance when we are weak to go for the jugular. We need to pray to be aware of what those times are, so we can be on guard.
I also find it ironic that when Jesus was tempted in the desert in the first place it mentions that he was hungry, because (amen?) I know around 11:00am each day I start getting just a little (okay...a lot) edgier than normal due to the lack of food in the stomach.
So I've been trying to be more aware that I am more susceptible to things like the rage virus when I'm hungry, rushing out the door for church etc.

Finally, and I would say most importantly I've learned one more thing...I'm glad his grace is sufficient to save me.
You know that group of verses where Paul says that to keep him from becoming conceited there was given to him "a thorn in his flesh" and he prayed that God would take it away from him three times?
I'm there.
I pray so hard that God will take this anger away from me. That he will just make it so I don't struggle anymore (you know..."zap" from heaven and it's gone?). Well I can hear God saying to me the same thing he says to Paul:
"But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." (2Cor 12:9)
Hallelujah and Glory to God!!!
I love that he wants to bring me through it, and he will give me victory over it...eventually...and in the meantime, his grace is sufficient.
What does that even mean.
His grace (the free gift from God of my salvation, the redemptive work of Jesus Christ, the salvation that comes from his blood on the cross) is sufficient (enough, all I need to be saved, fully perfect in power to cover me).
That just goes to show you the amazing God I serve. He's strong and powerful to save, so much so that I can be weak little me, staying humble, confessing my sins and allowing God to change me in his time, but resting in his perfect grace all the while.
DID YOU HEAR THAT? Please let it smack you upside the head a little,
He has done it...remember "it is finished?"
Now when I go to God I go to a throne of grace with confidence:
"Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need." Hebrews 4:16
So all that to say, I'm learning a lot lately, and I'll continue to let God change me, and show me my times of weakness and susceptibility but I will also remember that the gem that is God's amazing power to save is set best against the dark backdrop of my weaknesses.

Mmmmmm....Cheesy!

2008-11-27T07:29:00.006-07:00

There is no way to talk about being thankful for something on Thanksgiving without sounding cheesy and cliche...but I'm going to do it anyways.
And (though I hate to admit it, the thought of the gospel ever sounding anything but fresh and amazing is sad) but it's even more corny to talk about being thankful for God on Thanksgiving...
but again..I am.
There is a verse I read this morning, that caught my heart so captive I had to share it...and it is on this truth that I rest my salvation, and that my heart blossoms with the most overflowing gratitude that I can't help but share it:
"But he (Jesus) was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon him, and by his wounds we are healed." isaiah 53:5

I kept reading this morning, verse after verse to reflect on the great freedom that I have received in Christ (why is it every time I hear the word freedom that song by George Michael starts rolling through my head?) and to remember the number one reason I have to be thankful...and I kept coming back to the same enthralling and exhilirating (big words huh?) theme....grace!
Listen to Paul's words, so laced with the concept of a free gift form God that he can scarcely go a moment without coming back to it:
"But because of his great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions--it is by GRACE you have been saved. And God raised us up with Christ and seated us with him in the heavenly realms in Christ Jesus, in order that in the coming ages he might show the incomparable riches of his GRACE, expressed in his kindness to us in Christ Jesus. For it is by GRACE you have been saved through faith, and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God-- not by works so that no one can boast." Ephesians 2:4-9
So I can safely say that this Thanksgiving, more than any other gift I have received, more than any truth I can understand I am abundantly, overflowingly (I'm thinking of a like a giant cornucopia here) thankful for the grace that God chose to extend to me--and still daily gives to me in light of my shortcomings.
Happy thanksgiving, may the truth of God's love be real to you!

"Not of yourselves"....thankfully.

2008-11-24T18:50:00.003-07:00

How do you start confessing to however many people may be reading this that you committed a sin?
I think I just did it.
So here's my story (no preface let's just jump right in, you're all furiously reading at this point to see what it is I'm sure).
I go to the Gap and buy this pair of jeans (which, might I add, cost $50 BUCKS *insert groan here*) because I was in need of some pants that fit...
I get them home and throw them on to go out for an evening with my husband, all the while thinking that I can't believe I spent that much on jeans. A few days later shopper's remorse gets the best of me (and they'd been sitting on my shelf ever since that night, waiting to either become a committed part of my wardrobe--or go back to the clinically clean shelves of the store I am so begrudgingly obsessed with) and I choose to take the jeans back to the Gap to get a credit to my account.
I heave two children, stroller, diaper bag, purse, returns, and snacks, all in the car and drive twenty minutes to the store. When I get there I hastily shovel myself and my two kids through the door, to be greeted (with little enthusiasm) by a 50ish-year-old woman who looked like she had never had a bad hair day (or worn sweat pants) in her life (we'll call her "Buffy"), and this is my first moment of feeling like a complete putz for being with my two children in the Gap wearing a jacket I got at Goodwill (which I am normally quite proud of).
The conversation that followed went something like this:
Me: I'd like to return these please
Buffy: Okay do you have your receipt?
Me: LINCOLN, where are you? Come out from behind those clothes!
Me again: Sorry, what was that?
Buffy: Do you have your receipt?
Me: Yes I...LINCOLN, stop playing with the mannequin.
Lincoln: Ooooh, a princess (looking up a mannequins skirt)
Me: Here is my receipt
Buffy: Okay, I'm sorry I can't return these jeans, they've been worn...

Now let me preface what happens next by saying that I not only do not know what came over me, but I also in no circumstances condone what I did in this instance.
Me: I'm sorry, but I've never worn these
Buffy: You've never worn these jeans? There is dirt on the hem of the leg.
Me: No, I think that's the wash or something, I only wore them to try them on...
(WHA??? If you were paying attention earlier, you would remember that I did wear them, and at this point I am blatantly lying to Buffy)
Buffy: Okay mam, I'll give you a credit on a gift card.
And THEN there was this pause that seemed to go on forEVER while she figured out how to credit said gift card...and in the midst of this pause I had a mental conversation with God...that went something like this:
God: You just lied...you need to tell her you were lying.
Me: No way.
God: Be bold, do the right thing, it doesn't matter if it's just a pair of jeans, you were wrong, stand up and tell her.
Me: Not a chance she'll think I'm totally ridiculous.
God: I've called you to a high standard, and I expect you to live up to it.
Me: Too late! She's handing me the gift card.

And I walked out of the store, heart in the pit of my stomach...feeling like pond scum.
I immediately start praying telling God I am so sorry and I cannot believe I did it. I commit the money I was credited (part of the purchase had been on a gift card and part from my fun money, so I got some money back) to our tithe and charity fund (so as not to reward myself for my sin) and call John to tell him about what a horrible person he married.
The rest of the day was ruined at this point, and I must say I was pretty pathetic wallowing in this pool of guilt I had nicely created for myself when God so graciously reached down and tapped me on the shoulder...reminding me...
"There's a lesson in all this."
And I'm thinking "Right the lesson is, don't spend $50 on jeans cause you'll regret it and definitely don't lie." And then a quiet voice tells me ever so kindly to stop thinking about myself.
And I realize the real lesson.
I need forgiveness...we all do.
Every day, every moment, every time I fade right back into who it's easiest for me to be. And there will never be a day in my life (no matter how long I've been a believer or how good I've gotten at "being good") that I don't need this forgiveness. That IS the whole point isn't it?
I'm not good...I never will be (because no matter what I'm going to mess up) and this amazing astoundingly gracious and loving God sent a mediator for me, a passionate forgiver of my sins, so that I can be seen as forgiven, even though I could never earn it on my own.
I think God gives us those little glimpses (not that I by any means think it's a good idea to sin that grace may abound) to remind us that this whole "salvation" thing is not for the good, well-behaved people, but for the rest of us, who are blissfully aware that we fall short, and recognize an amazing God who abundantly chose to give us a scapegoat, the credit is to Him alone.
The Bible says it again and again, "He saved us, not because of the righteous things we've done, but because of his mercy." Titus 3:5
I don't know how to end this, I'm not even sure that it made any sense. I don't know how to get the point across that I want to make...but I can say this...
I will never be good enough to get my way into heaven...
but because of who God is, he sent a perfect savior (Jesus) to die as punishment on my behalf...
and as a result I have been credited with righteousness.
It doesn't "make sense" it's not "fair" that someone who has sinned, has messed up, gets to gain righteousness by simply believing...but it is true.
And it is on that truth that I rest, on that truth that I live my life, on that truth that I hang my future, my past, my everything.
And I want nothing more than to see others come to know the same freedom that comes from that truth....
because there is nothing that will so dramatically change your life, no "higher knowledge" or "state of existence" that will get you to that place...
that place of forgiveness and grace in the daily life.

Mothers: Fashioning the destinies of immortal souls since the creation of the world!

2008-11-13T14:51:00.004-07:00

What is it about God that makes him able to find the most obscure times to teach us something we need to hear? Must be that whole "omniscient" thing.
In light of that I'll let you guess where I was when I was reading this...

"Homemaking" written by J.R. Miller, originally published in 1882
Oh that God would give every mother a vision of the glory and splendor of the work that is given to her when a babe is placed in her bosom to be nursed and trained! Could she have but one glimpse into the future of that life as it reaches on into eternity; could she look into it's soul to see it's possibilities; could she be made to understand her own personal responsibility for the training of this child, for the development of it's life and for it's destiny-she would see that in all God's world there is no work so noble and so worthy of her best powers, and she would commit to no other hands the sacred and holy trust given to her.
What we want to do with our children is not merely to control them and keep them in order, but to implant in true principals deep in their hearts which shall rule their whole lives; to shape their character from within into Christ-like beauty, and to make them noble men and women, strong for battle and duty. They are to be trained rather than governed. Growth of character, not merely good behavior, is the object of all home governing and teaching. Therefore the home influence is far more important than the home laws and the parent's lives are (far more important) than their teachings.
O mothers of young children, I bow before you in reverence. Your work is most holy. You are fashioning the destinies of immortal souls. The power folded up in the little ones that you hushed to sleep in your bosoms last night are powers that shall exist forever. You are preparing them for their immortal destiny and influence. Be faithful. Take up your sacred burden reverently. Be sure that your heart is pure and your life is sweet and clean.

I thought this was so profound and challenged me so greatly I had to share it...and if you can get past the writer mentioning "bosoms" (something admittedly hard for someone with my maturity level) it's a beautifully written admonishment to mothers. I love it and will treasure that God brought it to my attention when I needed it!
I'll be praying that God will give us all a glimpse into the eternal nature of the little ones we so painstakingly invest in, to give us all perspective in the daily butt-wiping and whining. Love to the mamas!

Caution: Steep drops ahead!

2008-11-12T13:58:00.003-07:00

So recently I chose to embark on a study of the book of Revelation (cue: impending doom music *Da Da Da DUMMMMMMM).
I must admit it has always been very daunting to me, and I've avoided it from fear that it will be nothing but cryptic, but I enlisted the help of my husband and we sit down and read it and talk about it. It's been a major blessing and I've been amazed at how much the Bible is a living book and that God can use even the apocalyptic books to strengthen my faith.
The thing it's helped me the most with is perspective. Upon reading it you'll quickly realize that there is little in this world that is important in light of eternity. The only two things that are eternal are God and people. Wow. That really funnels down what I should be spending my time on.
But I digress...
The point I was really smacked flipside up the head with is in Jesus' words to one of the churches (I don't remember which one and you don't care anyways). He's talking to them about how they have lost their love for Christ. And here comes the verse (put on your helmets): "But I have this against you, that you have abandoned the love you had at first. Remember the height from which you have fallen." (Rev 2:4-5)
To quote Emeril on the toothpaste commercial...BAM!
How true this is in my heart and life. This specifically ministered to me in light of my husband and children. It's so easy for me to be quick to get angry at John, to fail to have patience with my children, to get irritated and be short because they aren't whatever I think they should be. And then a voice comes and reminds me where I came from. Here's another verse for ya:
"Anyone who lacks these things (faith, goodness, knowledge, self-control, endurance, godliness, mutual affection, and love) is nearsighted and blind and is forgetful of the cleansing of past sins." 2 Pet 1:9 (parenthesis mine)
Basically, "Jenn, if you remembered what a pathetic sack of selfishness you were when I found you, and I forgave you anyways, you'd be much quicker to give grace to those around you."
Let me summon my most gangsta ghetto voice to say, "True dat!"
Don't get me wrong, I still think it's critical to discipline my kids. I mean if I want them to grow up to be adults who love and worship and obey God, I have to start now right? But I don't discipline because I want perfect little well-behaved children so everyone can go, "What a wonderful little 2-year-old", but so they can be children who draw near to God, and I don't take it as a personal offense when they disobey, I'm quick to forgive (this is all hypothetical of course, simply stating what I have learned I SHOULD do, not what I've done necessarily).
Again...I digress.
The point I learned is that I need to invest my life in the criticals because in a split second some perspective could come crashing into my life in any number of ways and the things I thought were important (losing those last 15 pounds, or getting my playroom decorated) will become staunchly trivial. And if I am keeping that mindset, I'll also keep in the very front of my mind the reminder that I have been forgiven much and will be continually grateful for that. Which will in turn direct my actions back to God where they should be.
See it comes full circle.
How great a God we serve that we are asked to live out forgiveness and love to others not only as a constant reminder of the forgiveness we have received but as a living example to others of the forgiveness that is available to them as well.
And all God's people said...

Can we all just agree on a few things here?

2008-10-10T15:07:00.002-06:00

On a recent trip to Target I almost fell over on my two-year-old (who was swinging around a princess skirt at the time) when I saw not only acid-washed jeans, but also...stirrups.
All my 80's ladies will know what I'm talking about here....pants with stirrups at the bottom so they stay tucked in your boots?
Now, I'm one who is fine with keeping up with the fashion trends (I've even been known to entertain a side ponytail at times) but not only can I not wear skinny jeans (hello...birthing hips?) but stirrups....it's just going a bit too far.
So I thought I'd initiate a blog-wide plea to stop the insanity...and while I'm at it, can we get on the same page about a few other things too?
1. No stirrups....ever. Some mistakes are best left to high schoolers.
2. When I have food in my teeth...tell me. Let's not be afraid you'll hurt my feelings and not say anything (this also goes for things like, "slip is showing", or even "should have worn the slip", or "did your left breast just leak?"...can all the men kindly avert their eyes from that last one?)
3. Your ring tone is probably not that important...or that cool, but we all still spend way too long picking them out.
4. Mommy gray areas are off limits...that means don't judge your fellow mommy the next time her kid is wearing pjs out in public...yes....it was me.
5. Discussions that involve specific numbers of poundage that you may or may not weigh are also off-limits. Trust me...you're skinnier...I'm now okay with that.
6. My kid may or may not eat the veggies...trust me..I'm trying.
7. Sometimes it is okay to defrost dinner.

I feel a lot better since we've talked about this. Now if you'll excuse me, my two-year-old is in his pajamas upstairs crying because he doesn't want to eat his defrosted veggies and I'm trying to get the spinach out of my teeth.

Welcome to America...Home of the lame.

2008-10-09T14:19:00.003-06:00

I am SO sick of this presidential crap I want to puke.
Hear me out..I have postponed blogging about this for fear of making this or that person upset, not wanting to ruffle feathers, not sure what was the right answer, just not knowing what to do.
I can't handle it wanymore and I'm just ready to jump off the nearest tall building or duct tape my head so I don't explode.
Let's put aside the economy.
Let's put aside the foreign policy.
Let's put aside the health care system.
Let's put aside taxes.
Because when it comes down to it many of the differences and promises in this area are negligible.
I have a really hard time stomaching this ongoing support of abortion and infanticide with no one stepping up.
I cannot tolerate or even get my freaking head around the idea that anyone would be okay with putting infants who had been through a failed abortion attempt in a room by themselves with soiled linens for up to 8 hours until they died because the parents didn't want to hold them.
I cannot imagine that we live in a world where a baby can be issued a death certificate when it's parents tried to have it aborted and it died, but we somehow justify it as not being a life?
WHAT THE $@&%
Am I hearing this right?
Is this really happening.
We live in a country where a mother (if you can really call her that, which I would argue you CANNOT) can CHOOSE to have her baby aborted because it has down syndrome and then when the abortion fails a child is left in a cold dark room alone to die.
If that doesn't make you sick--come over and I'll smack you in the head.
I'm sorry I'm so passionate about this, I just don't have the stomach for it anymore.
And I refuse to support politicians who pass legislation (MORE THAN ONCE) to allow this.
Truly. Let's major in the majors here.
These are lives. These are babies.
These are human beings.
They are dying.
Remember Darfur? Remember the same politician who cited our troops for "air-raiding villages and killing civilians?" He's okay with a child being left alone to die because no one wants it?
Don't get me wrong, I'm pro-choice.
I believe every woman most definitely has a choice not to pull her pants off and get pregnant and then also has the choice to put a child she cannot care for up for adoption. And if she can't make that choice? Guess what? Life has consequences. And you learn them really fast.
When did we lose all personal responsibility.
The predator lenders sold me a loan I can't afford so the government owes me.
McDonalds made me fat.
I don't want to go to Sam's Club to buy economy sized jars of mayo and I'm pregnant with twins so I'm going to abort one baby and deliver the other.
Really? Let's grow up. Let's start accepting some responsibility for some things. And let's stop buying in to the lie that we can't change this.
Because we can.
Yes....we can.

Stocks Schmocks!

2008-10-07T14:10:00.002-06:00

If you're anything like me, you're a little bit overwhelmed and (honestly) annoyed by all this stock market talk lately. Not to diminish the seriousness of what is happening in our economy and world (can anyone say "Hello Socialism?") but it does get a little doom and gloom for me.
My response?
Baby animals!
When John calls me daily now with the raincloud report (you know "The stock market is down 450 points?" "We're all gonna starve to death" "The world ends on Monday"--get the gist?) He now also has to deliver one bit of positive news....(this is my new rule).
I fell so in love with the story he shared with me today that I had to pass it on.
Noodle the tumbling kitten has found a home.
Go to this link, watch the video and I guarantee you won't think about the stock market for at least 3 minutes.
http://www.komonews.com/news/local/30496874.html
And tomorrow, after you've forgotten about Noodle and the stock Market is going down as fast as the roller coasters at Kings Island, check back for another bit of cheeriness....dogs in halloween costumes anyone?

Take Heart!

2008-09-23T13:56:00.003-06:00

I was listening to one of Lincoln's memory verses cds in the car yesterday (which are the main way I've been memorizing verses lately) and was singing a song-when I finally tuned into reality and paid attention to the words I started crying...does anyone else need to hear this today?
"Because of the Lord's great love, we are not consumed
for his compassions never fail.
His love is new every morning.
great is your faithfulness Oh Lord."
Lamentations 3:22-23
It amazes me that when I feel consumed by life, I'm not--because I serve a God who loves me furiously.
So much so that every morning I wake up and his love is brand new...
that's refreshing...cause sometimes, yesterday is still hanging on for dear life.
Amen?

It's been one of those weeks

2008-09-18T13:40:00.005-06:00

You know when you wake up and you honestly have the thought, "Maybe I'll get the stomach flu so I can just stay in bed all day" (and--if I'm being honest "then I'd lose a few pounds too").
It was just one sucky thing after another, and it was really hard for me.
Let me hash it out for ya.
Between whiny children, babysitting on my birthday, running late for BSF and spilling coffee grounds on the counter followed by bagel (cream cheese side down) on the floor, and a weird series of conversations with a good friend that made it really hard to communicate effectively, topped off with a severe lack of sleep as Ellie parties in the bassinet next to MY side of the bed (while husband snores peacefully in my left ear)--it was getting to be a bit much. (And can I just say those are the highlights, I didn't really do it justice)
It culminated today when Ellie wouldn't stop crying, I was starving and lunch wasn't ready yet (Yes, frozen pizza again..I know, I know) and Lincoln was singing "LaLaLa" progressively louder in a passive aggressive and highly annoying way. I quickly stood up, left the crying baby and the whiny toddler in the living room and shut myself behind the nearest closed door I could find (which happened to be the pantry if you're curious). While I'm in there...in complete darkness...I realized the craziness of what I was doing and, with one hand holding the door closed so a curious 2-year-old couldn't open it (maybe he just thinks I'm getting a snack) I started praying. And it went something like this:
"Lord....you know how much I can handle.....and I'm not going to say I can't take this because you would know whether or not I can....you wanted me to come to you when things are hard....so here I am.....help."
not nearly as eloquent or inspiring as one would think eh?
But what happened next was nothing short of the miraculous in the mundane.
I sensed God's presence.
The toddler still whining, baby still screaming and the pizza still...frozen, I suddenly had the strength to get through. I went out and dealt with things (without screaming) and it got easier. Afterwards I found myself reflecting on something I had learned this week (don't you love object lessons?)
When reading about the Israelites under Egyptian oppression (which lasted four........hundred.......yearssssssss...ugh) our Bible study leader mentioned the point that:
1. God allows difficult people, circumstances, and situations in our lives to change us. We can either allow them to push us away from him, or toward him.
2. He is always with us in the midst of it.
"I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world."- Jesus (John 16:33)
So I realized that while the Israelite boy babies were being killed by the Egyptians under the decree of Pharaoh (Hello,they were throwing the babies in the NILE) and the Israelites were enslaved by a people they didn't belong to (oaky stay with me, we're almost to the point) it was in God's plan.
And when I was locked in the dark pantry borderline insane with a circus going on in my kitchen...it was in God's plan.
And he was there with them, and he is there with me. Just wanting us all to turn to him and tell him how freakin' hard it is to follow him right now, but how bad we need him.
I love those little moments of application (after they're finished of course).
And hopefully next time I've learned enough to shut myself in the pantry at the beginning of the day, instead of at the end of my rope.
(Picture used with permission by my good friend Nicole, documenting when her daughter Ani was having "one of those weeks.")

Work it!

2008-09-16T15:29:00.002-06:00

It's my birthday....haaaaaayyy!
So I'm laying in bed last night after 26 years of not feeling any different at the idea of being another year older and it starts hitting me.
I'm 26.
That means I'm beyond the halfway mark of the 20's decade. That means in 4 years I'll be 30.
That means...I'll be...thiiiiiiiiiiiiiirty.
Okay, so all my friends already are (which means I can't say that I'm thinking how really old that sounds in my head) but I CAN say that also means my hubby is 36...which means in 4 years he'll be (carry the 2) 40!
This is half way to 80.
It is also ten years shy of being half a century old.
Wha....
Yeah. It sounded a little weird to me too.
I remember being in high school and watching the show "Friends" and thinking how grown up and cool they seemed. I thought, "yeah, when I'm that age I'll be a total hottie, at my lowest weight because I'll work out all the time, working at some major cool company that does something really....neat (like makes slingshots or something) and I'll wear all these great clothes and be able to walk in high heels without breaking my neck and I won't have a boyfriend cause I'll be so completely satisfied on my own that I don't need no stinkin man and I'll have a treadmill in my penthouse apartment and run while I watch some sophisticated news program with a guy that has two last names like "Anderson Cooper" (or Lincoln Schmidt) and I'll yell at the tv if I don't agree and be all....savvy."
Boy was I off.
A better picture of reality would be that I wear the same jeans everyday with a shirt that may or may not have spit up on it, but definitely has syrup on it, I'll chase a two year old around the backyard and call it excercise, the shows I watch are primarily starring people who have completely made up names like Mary Poppins or Dumbo, and if I tried to walk in high heels I'd likely look ridiculous and would possibly break something. Not only am I not at my lowest weight (hello...two kids in two years?) but I don't even remember what it is anymore.
All this sounds a little sad huh?
Then apparently you're not reading it right.
Did I also mention I get more hugs and kisses than any other person in the workforce, I get to hold the tiniest giggliest sleepy little bundle of snuggle whenever I want and also get to be her favorite person in the world (for at least 12 years). My toddler looks at me when I even make an attempt to look nice (which can be as simple as combing my hair at this point) and says "Mommy looks so princess" (which is now an adjective in our home and means "wicked cute"). How often do you get to walk into the office and hear that greeting? (You should, make sure you have someone tell you you're lookin "so princess" at least once a day) and I also get to play....as much as I want and it's considered a "team building exercise".
For example--yesterday I chased Linc around the house wearing an indian chief headdress and jumping into a giant beanbag. So I'm thinkin...26 is lookin better than I expected. And the next time I can't sleep because I'm thinking I'm more than a quarter of a century old and in another 14 years I'll be 40...I'll relax
...at least I'm still younger than all of you! (ooh, did I type that?)

There's something about the Jimmy.

2008-09-11T16:21:00.003-06:00

What is (and is not) on my playlist for running:
Is:
A Little Less Conversation-Elvis Presley
Not:
A Spoonful of Sugar- Mary Poppins
Is:
Canned Heat-Jamiroquai
Not:
Anything from the CD Spidey and Friends (which IS now in my trash can)
Is:
Eye of the Tiger-By....the people who sing it
Not:
Anything by C&C Music Factory (sorry friends)
Is:
Get on the Good Foot-James Brown
Not:
The Hokey Pokey (which I listen to the rest of the day)
And my current power song:
Get up offa that thing-James Brown (what can I say I've got soul)
And yes...I do punch at the air and sing out loud while running.

Lady Riders Unite (I almost typed "untie").

2008-09-02T21:55:00.005-06:00

I apologize in advance for the suckiness of the layout here. Would someone please tell me how to upload pics in a straight line...I'm such a goober (and even more so for saying the word "goober")

OH the joys of truck stops and water slides.
Recently John and I were blessed (by the joys of Grandparents) with the opportunity to stay the night in a hotel away from my favorite 2 year old for our anniversary. It was SO fun.
While we did have little E.P. with us, we got to do many fun things thanks to her...ability to sleep in any circumstance (It's a super-power inheirited from her Daddy).
We started off the evening by going to a yummy restaurant called the Bent Fork, where I ordered ravioli-olis and John ordered...something that wasn't very good. Then we went to see a movie (See pics of Ellie's first movie--which-by the way, was Batman).
Afterwards we got ice cream sundaes from McD's (see pic where my head is cut off, I am not quite as skilled at the long arm photo as my hubby).
Then we watched a show about fat people on cable while laying in our oversized bed (which is now the same size as our normal bed) under the covers in our room with the thermostat set at (GASP) 65 degrees (till John turned it up...*frown*)
We woke up at (5:30) then 8:30 and decided to go get Breakfast. While John wanted to sample the same fare at Cracker Barrel that I've been eating since I was 5 on family vacations, I chose a less...conventional locale. Johnson's Corner.
"What is Johnson's Corner?" You're asking?
It's a truck stop restaurant, but not just any truck stop restie...voted BEST truck stop restaurant by the Food Network, AND home of the world famous cinnamon roll.
John's curiosity was not at all peaked, but mine was soaring high. And while it didn't deliver quite the "hole-in-the-wall/have a cup of coffee with the old ladies in the picture on the ad" charm I thought it would with a 25 minute wait time, and the cinnamon rolls were...well, not being talked about in India let's just put it that way, it was a great opportunity for John and I to go on a hunt in the gift shop to find the strangest item:
See Photo: "The last pencil you'll ever have to buy"
Photo: "The kissing monkey salt and pepper shaker that you might be getting for Christmas"
Photo: "Who doesn't love a purse that looks like someone's...butt"
Photo: "The patriotic notepad" When we actually heard someone say "What's the matter, aint you patriotic?"--in trying to get his wife to buy a bumper sticker from the same section.
and the winner...
Photo: "The Lady Rider leather motorcycle vest and "Hair Glove"
Okay, what is a hair glove? "It is the most dynamic and talked about hair accessory in the marketplace today" according to their website, www.hairglovecycle.com, and it's unisex.
After all that hilarity, we went back to the hotel and John got to go down his beloved waterslide. I don't think I've seen him that happy since 5 years ago when we were married.
Ah, a man and his water slide.

What DID you do today?

2008-08-27T15:17:00.008-06:00

I recently heard the idea of creating a "Did Do" list rather than a "To-Do" List.
I was so excited at the prospect of revisiting all my accomplishments in the last 24 hours that I ran to my keyboard.
Enjoy! (And then make your own)
1. Ate breakfast and cleaned all the dishes up after
2. Swept the front porch and fed the birds while making sure that a toddler with a cape didn't "fly" into the street.
3. Made 3 grilled cheese sandwiches for hungry tummies (of which 20% were actually eaten)
4. Did more dishes
5. Nursed for 4 hours (not consecutively--though it felt like it)
6. Read 7 kid books
7. Helped aforementioned toddler "fly" 5 times
8. Folded the same blanket 8 times
9. Set up a crib
10.Moved boxes from one room to another until they eventually got to the hallway in front of the garage (on tomorrow's to-do list? put them in the garage)
11. Thought about returning towels to Wal-mart and giving friends back borrowed items
12. Walked to the park
13. And back
14. While carrying an infant
15. and pushing a stroller
16. Recreated the movie Mary Poppins in our kitchen with a stuffed Batman doll
17. Got a 2-year-old to say "please" , "thank you" and "May I"
18. Remembered to do the same myself (though not as consistently)
19. Thought about going for a jog
20. Washed my face and got dressed
21. Almost made the bed!
22. Put in pacifier 50+ times
23. Changed 7 dirty diapers
24. Checked the mail-TWICE!
25. Brushed my teeth (thought about flossing)
And Finally,
26. Prayed (while driving)
Oh, focusing on the positive. It's so rewarding!

What to wear to a birth

2008-07-08T14:31:00.002-06:00

It is a strange feeling to wake up and get a shower, fix your hair and pick out an outfit to wear to go give birth. But it is a good way to get expensive gummy bears.
After a week of being past my due date (how people go two weeks past is beyond me...they should get medals...or cookies or something), almost all of you know I was induced. What many of you don't know is the challenging emotional junk that went along with it. That morning I was really a nervous wreck, it's kind of an awful feeling to know you're going to the hospital and you're not going to leave until you go through a tremendous amount of pain (don't worry Paige, it's not THAT bad) and push a baby out...yikes.
I was also really struggling with the fact that I wasn't going to have the experience of going into labor on my own, something I really wanted and adamantly prayed for in those last few (I mean many) days of contractions leading to nothing. And all those people that said all the work I had done before (pre-labor contractions) would mean I'd have a really easy labor...were lying.
But I really struggled the morning of, up until that point there was always still the hope that my water would break at any moment, that labor would start, that I'd wake up in the middle of the night and rush to the stork parking at the hospital. But that morning, it was pretty certain that these things weren't going to happen. And then I was faced with the reality that God's plan was different than mine. And it was in the heat of this realization that I pouted and stomped around my house, like a tearful toddler (actually, I don't even let our two year old act as childish as I was). I could tell within an hour of being awake (and rude might I add) that I needed to pray through this, or the whole experience was going to be miserable. I asked John upstairs and confessed to him in no uncertain terms that I was mad that I didn't get my way, and didn't think God was getting it right, and couldn't believe He would deny me this one thing I wanted (I'd like to pretend I'm more mature than this...but I totally wasn't. It really was that self-centered). After telling him this, and praying I began to soften up and realize how little I know about anything. And while many people say that I'd someday realize the intention behind it, that I'd understand God's ultimate plan, and have a great insight as to why he said no...I still don't. And I don't ever expect to.
You see, that's the great thing about God...he's not me. And He doesn't have to act like I think he should, or do what I think he should because he's God. And he can do whatever he wants whether I like it or not. It's not a nice little story with a perfect ending like you'd expect to read in the dentist's office. But it 's a real one. And it changed the way that I think of God...completely sovereign. We like to think it's always going to work out in some perfectly ironic and beautifully timed way of us getting what we ask for (and it often does) but sometimes he just tells us no, and we don't know why.
Many of you may think it's not that big of a deal and I should just be thankful, and get over it. But it was hard for me, and those hard lessons are the most precious (character building, we call it around these parts).
All in all, I ended up with a great labor experience (not exactly as I imagined it, but with many bonuses I hadn't expected. my mom was there and was an amazing support to John and I. I got to bond more with her, John and Gretchen more that I have before, and i got the expensive gummy bears the hospital sells. $3.00 a bag but SO worth it).
""For my thoughts are not your thoughts,
neither are your ways my ways,"
declares the LORD.
"As the heavens are higher than the earth,
so are my ways higher than your ways
and my thoughts than your thoughts."
Isaiah 55:8-9

My Eggo is Preggo....still.

2008-06-10T15:50:00.003-06:00

Answers to your most asked questions:
1. This Saturday (when are you due?)
2. As good as a person can feel with 7 pounds of another person tacked to your mid-section (how are you feeling?)
3. It's a girl (do you know what you're having)
4. I'm fine (do you need help with that?)

If you see a pregnant woman out in public...just don't ask, no matter HOW bad you want to.

He's speakin' my language

2008-06-01T14:45:00.004-06:00

And that language is...chocolate.
Yeah, you know that Tom Petty song, "The waiting is the hardest part", MAN does it hold true for so many things in life....like getting our kids into our arms.
I was going to just say pregnancy in general, but I have a dear friend who is going through the adoption process who recently met her son, and is back here now, WAITING to go get him...agony I'm sure.
So let's keep it generic, waiting sucks (omitting I suppose things like Death Row and the like).
It's funny, when I'm in the first trimester of pregnancy I think "This is horrible, nothing...nothing can be worse then this" when week 38 comes and it seems like an eternity I realize how wrong I was. People like to say things to you at this point like:
-You look like you're going to pop
-You MUST be due soon
-Just try and enjoy this time, it'll be over soon
and my favorite
-Two weeks isn't that long...to which my reply would be, "You're right it's not, but it seems a lot longer with a human being inside your body".
Anyways, recently I received a funny lesson from God through Dove chocolate (which is a great way to talk sense into a pregnant woman by the way). I was reaching into our candy dish for a piece of chocolate (you know those ones that have like a clever little message written on the inside-like "follow your dreams" and such?) And I thought to myself, "maybe this will give me some hidden fortune- like a glimpse into when the baby will be born." So I open it eagerly, sure at this point it's going to contain some profound insight into the arrival of my child, bearing some asian-sounding, yoda-esque saying such as "Cease your wait soon will." Here I am standing in the kitchen after having thought every day for the past week that I'm surely going into labor, staring blankly at a piece of foil that says:
"Don't think about it so much."
Yeah, God has a sense of humor--and I'm sure he got a big kick out of that one.
Anyways, it was at least good advice. Now I keep opening the fortune-telling chocolates hoping to get some more divine insight, but the only one I keep getting is "flirting is mandatory", which is absolutely not fitting advice for a pregnant woman (how do you think I got here in the first place?)

10 Things I never thought I'd say in life-Revised

2008-05-29T13:28:00.003-06:00

10. No you may not have candy for breakfast
9. Stop feeding the neighbor dog a banana
8. My name is "mommy" not "Jenn"
7. You may not brush your friend's hair with a broom
6. You may not have cake for breakfast either
5. Really, you see Jesus flying outside the car window?
4. Eat your pizza first and you can have a pear
3. Once something is in the garbage, we don't pull it out to taste it.
2.We do not eat banana chips we found in the parking lot.
1. Stop yelling the word "boobies" in the doctor's office

Popsicles and inexorable truths

2008-05-27T09:28:00.003-06:00

At some point in motherhood every woman is smacked right in the cheek with that inescapable truth that we all hate.
They grow up...
fast.
It's something old ladies in the grocery store have warned us about for years, something our mothers have always told us, but it doesn't become such a reality until sometime after you have them in your home.
And it hurts.
Surely some of this sentimentality can be attributed to my advanced state of pregnancy, but I would wager that even the most unemotional mama has at some point shed tears over the fact that her baby is no longer that. And now I know why my mom cried so much. Surely, it was just a brief moment ago that I was waking at 2am (and totally miserable might I add) with this tiny, bald little bundle of squirm that is now so busy that all the pictures we take of him manage to look more like a blur than a child. And it is at moments like this that the inexorable reality comes into perfect focus,
they were not made to be held on to.
It's constantly before me that my children are not made to be close to me, reliant on me, they were not made to be constantly needy of me. From the moment they are born, they are in a perpetual state of moving farther from me (in my belly, to being held always, to walking, to running, to being embarassed by my hugs.)
Thankfully, I think back to my own life (and mom, you can stop crying now) because I realize that there is surely some portion of me that will always need my own mother. Advice, comfort, knowing that when I'm sad, discouraged or confused she has some God-given power to know me well enough to deliver exactly what I need to hear (even if it's "get over yourself" and it often is). And while I don't think you ever get over the fact that your baby is not a baby...(or a toddler, or a kindergartner, or even a high schooler.....well, scratch the last one), we can at least find comfort in knowing we are always pointing them to the one thing that all of us can (and should) hold on to at all phases of life and with such intensity that we refuse to let go... and that is God.
The One who knows better than all else how hard it is to let go of a child.

Just kill your internet.

2008-05-23T13:33:00.003-06:00

Here's the typical scenario:
Kid gets fever, fever spikes at 104, mom and dad freak out. Mom gets on internet visiting websites such as webmd, and other paranoid parent chat rooms at a not only unreasonable and irrational but what some would describe as unholy hour of the night. Mom goes to bed an hour later with no useful information on fevers but having gained an unfounded prognosis that her child has meningitis and needs a spinal tap and a brand new fear of illegal border hopping pimps.
How many times has this happened to you?
Okay, maybe none, but I can honestly say it's something my poor husband is all-too familiar with. The internet (like war) needs a song asking the very pertinent question "what is it good for?".
Obviously it has it's acceptable purposes, such as watching episodes of LOST that we missed from last week and seeing just how chubby and drunk all my friends from high school have gotten (I know, I have also achieved a new level of poundage, but with no debauchery of strong drink to attribute it to). But the majority of my pursuits on the internet either result in me idling away my very valuable time recklessly just to carefully pick out which "flair" to post on my facebook page, spending way too much (or wishing I could spend way too much) money on things I didn't need an hour ago or (as is referenced in said above scenario) getting inaccurate and terrifying information from websites I for some reason deem reliable such as "wikipedia" (which is in no way shape or form to be qualified as credible).
Luckily for me, God has given me a husband that can rationally and calmly make the statement, "honey, I think this is one of those rare illnesses we're not supposed to try and diagnose" to bring me back down to planet earth. In the future, will someone please remind me at 2:00 in the morning, not to "google" something as vague as "fever" and "possible illnesses" until the next morning?

I hear ya!

2008-04-08T13:40:00.002-06:00

Today I was at the library and couldn't help but get a kick out of the sign that was in front:
"Please be careful of the geese, they are nesting and can be very aggressive."
How do I get one of these for my front yard? "Please be careful of the Jenn, she is nesting and can be very aggressive."
It would just make my life so much easier.

Rare, Vintage Antiques from 1987

2008-04-04T13:49:00.003-06:00

Okay--what seriously annoys me?
When people on eBay list something as vintage and then say it was made in 1987.
Not only was I ALIVE in 1987--but I was 5 years old.
I guess that makes me vintage? I don't think so pal! I can barely stand the fact that all the kids at the drive-thrus now call me "maam", (I recently asked one of them if I looked old enough to be a "maam"--I think he swallowed his retainer).
But now things from my childhood are being referred to as vintage???? Give me a break!
I'm not old okay people.....
now my husband...that's another story ;)

When did this get so hard?

2008-03-31T13:15:00.005-06:00

In the past few days the line between obedience and rebellion have become increasingly blurry.
Discipline is getting harder, and Lincoln is getting more opinionated (I know I know--he's almost two, but I think if one more person uses the phrase "terrible twos" or reminds me of it I'll break down into a sobbing heap--because the fact is, he's not even two yet).
All the fun new things of having a big kid are here for sure, but with each sweet toddler moment that we have come a handful of unbearable ones where all you can stand to do is shut yourself in the bathroom for a moment and pray--hard.
Here are a few of the most fun things Lincoln has done lately (mainly to help myself keep things in perspective).
-recently switched to a big boy bed--which he loves jumping on and sleeping in. He calls it the "big bed". Pretty cute (See pics below).
-today at Wal-Mart when we were finally done shopping I looked at him and said "Okay buddy, we're all done shopping,
great job " and gave him a thumbs up, to which he replied "high five" and put his hand up to give me one.
-We get into "I love you" contests" where I'll tell him "I love you" and he decides to say it back, only louder, so we go back and forth like this for a while.
-he just got a bow tie and loves wearing it, and the best part is how he says bow tie, it sounds like he has a jamaican accent.
-when John goes to pray with him before meals, or bed he yells, "mommy pray" and when I come in he throws his arms around me neck (he'll do the same thing with John when he's not in the room).
-John's been giving him pennies in his piggy bank every day when he gets home from work (he gets 2 pennies a day) and on Sunday he got to take a penny to church to put in the giving box (it's his tithe). It's pretty sweet when he calls it "Jesus' penny".)
So all this will stand as a reminder for every other time when he's screaming at the top of his lungs because the dvd is over, or he can't have a marshmallow.
"Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the
proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give
up." Galatians 6:9

Life lessons from Sun-Maid

2008-03-17T13:21:00.005-06:00

Another lesson from mommying:
Today I was driving in the car with Lincoln who has recently developed a passion for raisins (I don't think he's my son). I handed him the bag of raisins and he's plugging away eating every last one when I think he's had enough. I take the bag of raisins away and hand him a few more to tide him over when he starts screaming.
He knew he could have had the entire bag and all he has is a few in his hand. So here he is, shoving the raisins he has been given in his mouth all the while screaming fervently for the raisins he doesn't have. I try to comfort him by telling him "It's okay buddy, eat the raisins you have" and then I catch myself saying something with such profound meaning for my life that I can hardly believe the words are coming out of my own mouth. I tell him "Be thankful for the raisins you do have."
Wha????
This is such a foreign concept in my heart that I couldn't believe I was touting the principle to my 2-year-old. It was at that moment that I felt God lovingly smack me upside the head with a new truth I need to grasp. Contentment.
Ah-ha.
Be happy with the raisins I have. So often in life I catch myself asking God for something (namely at this stage it's me asking for our townhome to sell and for us to be blessed with a bigger house before this baby comes), and I'm crying and screaming so much for the raisins I don't have that I fail to be thankful for, end enjoy the raisins that I'm currently being given.
I wish I could convey what an impact this had on me. It's one of those lessons that you "know" but you haven't really come to learn. Surely I've been blessed beyond measure, and my thankfulness for our current circumstances should be much deeper than a mere formality I profess to believe because I know how pretentious it sounds to be asking for a bigger house with a yard. Surely there are people not only with much less, but with nothing at all, and the thing that I have been given (whether townhome, clothes, etc) is perfectly suitable and even beyond that an abundance more than I've ever asked. Not only that, but remind myself of the truth that I have been forgiven an astonishingly large debt, for which Christ bought my forgiveness and I am a free woman, no longer even living for the things this world can offer me. Yet somehow I've managed thus far to coast through life with little appreciation for my raisins.
I wonder which raisins I can learn to appreciate better today.
(the picture above is our amazing garden, something which God greatly blessed us with and for which I am overwhlemingly thankful every spring and summer).

Confessions from mommyhood

2008-02-28T13:58:00.002-07:00

I know of no other calling in life where what you want to do and what you must do come to a neck-breaking collision more than in mommying...at least I didn't think I did. Here's a story...
My futile attempts to keep the backseat of my car clean are dashed, Lincoln manages to dump every type of snack I hand him on the floor, making it look more like a pond of little goldfish than the floormats my husband once so cleverly negotiated upon the purchase of our car. I remember those days. Staying up late, watching movies from start to finish, eating hot meals, having clean clothes....ahhh.
But alas, I am pulled back to reality with the shriek of a 20 month old and a kick in the side from our unborn monster (remind me what we were thinking)...I go through my day, chasing, playing, carrying, monitoring all the while feeling more and more taxed as I realize I just want to take a shower, or get dressed without my laundry being quite uncarefully strewn all over my floor. What happened to my house? It used to be so clean. Why can't I read my Bible without hearing "all done" 40 times from the high chair next to me? I remember the days of hour-long Bible studies UNinterrupted. What IS that stuff on my shirt anyways--graham cracker? Cheerios? I find myself in my car eventually, running late for Bible study (a perpetual struggle for me of cosmic proportions) when I realize I have lost all ability to think rationally and start gushing tears. How did I get here? How did I get to be that crazy mom? When will my life be manageable again? After two kids?....heh heh. *sob sob sob*

I glance into the mirror to realize that my face is now completely soaked in tears and I know there is no way I can go into a building of wonderful sweet caring women and some of my closest friends looking like I've just been crying and not have to talk about it.
I open my glove box hoping by some unique twist of events that a pack of tissues has suddenly materialized in there, and find my hopes dashed. I stare apprehensively for a moment at the size 4 diaper I keep in case of emergencies (and trust me they are just that), throw my inhibitions to the wind (clearly a woman crying in her car is not in a position of high standing anyways) and I grab the diaper and begin soaking up my tears with it.
Here I am...sitting in my car...crying into a diaper...hoping desperately none of my friends walk by and I realize how comical the situation is and start laughing.
Am I this helpless? "Lord, I need a fresh word from you, I need to hear your voice. More desperately than I have in a while I need some intervention, some perspective. I am drained, and I need your spirit. I am completely sucking the bottom of the bucket. I need your voice"
And faithfully as the tides, it comes. Isn't it a thing of wonder that the God of everything stoops to wipe out tears?
"Then Jesus said to his disciples, "If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me." Matthew 16:24
I realize this pursuit of being mommy is not unlike my walk with God. What other path can I seek to pursue that requires every ounce of my life and energy. That demands I sacrifice the things I once used to pursue so passionately for a cause outside myself that is so much more important to me? What other lifestyle is left empty without a complete emptying of myself, and requires a constant dialogue, a continual dependence, a relentless reliance on the creator of the universe? The two are paralleled in ways too clear to be coincidental.
The Lord is constantly reminding me that the things I used to pursue are no longer important, as a woman in Christ, I am supposed to serve, and in that serving lead my children and other peoples children (old and young) to see God. "Serve wholeheartedly, as if you were serving the Lord, not men," Ephesians 6:7 I can think of no greater calling that requires me to become less. "He must become greater; I must become less." John 3:30
To close, I quote my husband. In a card to our neighbors who recently found out they are pregnant John simply wrote this, "At first you'll feel like you've given up everything, but after a while you'll realize the things you've given up aren't nearly as great as the things you gain." And it is like.. "What is more, I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them rubbish, that I may gain Christ" Philippians 3:8.
And all God's people said...

My favorite song

2008-02-26T13:26:00.000-07:00

Come, thou Fount of every blessing,
tune my heart to sing thy grace;
streams of mercy, never ceasing,
call for songs of loudest praise.
Teach me some melodious sonnet,
sung by flaming tongues above.
Praise the mount! I'm fixed upon it,
mount of thy redeeming love.

Here I raise mine Ebenezer;
hither by thy help I'm come;
and I hope, by thy good pleasure,
safely to arrive at home.
Jesus sought me when a stranger,
wandering from the fold of God;
he, to rescue me from danger,
interposed his precious blood.

O to grace how great a debtor
daily I'm constrained to be!
Let thy goodness, like a fetter,
bind my wandering heart to thee.
Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it,
prone to leave the God I love;
here's my heart, O take and seal it,
seal it for thy courts above.

Goodbye Little Maggie

2008-02-12T13:07:00.000-07:00

It is much harder than I thought, saying goodbye to this little cat. We put Maggie (my cat of 9 years) to sleep last night. I hadn't totally prepared myself for it, but at the vet's office he said we could continue to treat the symptoms, knowing that it would never go away and would eventually come to this, or we could choose to let her go now. It was one of the hardest things I've ever done, which sounds crazy because I know it was a cat.
But she felt like so much more than just a cat. It's strange in a way because it's almost like saying goodbye to a phase in my life. Maggie was around when I was 16. I remember sleeping snuggled up with her as a kitten (the only place she wanted to sleep was draped across my neck). She was the runt of the litter, and she had no clue. She used to go up to our giant lab and hiss right in his face as if he was the one who was supposed to move. And then when I got my driver's license I used to take her in the car with me for drives to be near her. She was there when I graduated high school and started college. And when I eventually moved out of home and got my first apartment, she went with me.
She was with me when I got married, she moved across the country with me, and was eventually Lincoln's little play buddy.
It's so hard to think that now she's gone and this next phase in my life, one where we welcome a new baby and eventually a new home etc., is one that she'll never be a part of. It's like I'm finally grown up and that part of my life is gone, it's kind of surreal.
She was such a fun kitty. I remember the first time she met John she hissed at him and ran away (very unlike my first reaction to him you can imagine). She was always good for a snuggle--especially with people who were not cat lovers. If you sat still for longer than 60 seconds, you could pretty much count on Maggie coming up and pawing at your hair, or sitting on your lap. I'd never seen her grumpy or anti-social--she was the happiest cat I'd ever met. She also had a knack for climbing into really obscure small places and not being found. We'd hear meowing in the kitchen for 2 minutes before we pulled out one of the drawers and saw her little face peek out. An for whatever reason she always looked like a kitten.
At a mere 5 pounds she was bigger on love and companionship than you could ever guess by looking at her. And we had a great time together.
I'm confident as the days go by it will be easier for her to be gone....but today it's hard.

Life!

2008-02-04T13:10:00.000-07:00

It's pretty amazing to be faced with the menagerie of possibilities that your future child can be. Since we chose not to find out the sex this time (though trust me--every time the ultrasound tech told me I might want to look away so as not to find out on accident, I was staring intently at whatever I thought was a private part, convinced I'd see some hint--but to no avail) it's an even broader spectrum of imagination. Dark hair or light, straight or curly, boy or girl. And then with any assumption of one of the previous options, another flow of thoughts stem--ballet or soccer? , tomboy or mama's boy?, mini-skirt battles or (ugh!) making bike ramps out of plywood?
It's crazy to think that in less than 19 weeks, our lives will be changed so incredibly. Our baby will become our big kid (the thought is already making me cry) and we'll be carrying around another tiny little person, two carseats, maybe even a double stroller....and oh....sleep deprivation, how could I forget.
But what's more amazing is that right now there is a tiny little secret growing inside me that only God totally knows. There are weeks of everyone's lives, months even, where the only entity totally aware of who they are and what they will become is God. Right now my baby is totally known to the creator of the universe. He alone knows the hair patterns, the fingerprints, the tiny feet, the gender. And He has his own amazing name for him or her. Right on the other side of my stomach, separated to me only by skin and tissue and organs (mere inches) is my future son or daughter and I have no idea what they are like.
"To imagine is everything, to know is nothing at all." -Anatole France

MUAH!

2007-12-02T14:41:00.000-07:00

He was playing with my earrings and I asked for a kiss. One of the perks of being mommy!

GFF!

2007-10-04T21:43:00.000-06:00

So me and my gal pals (hee hee) got together tonight for a super-fun party that Group (john's company) was putting on to launch their new Girlfriends Unlimited line. It was a blast! We got facials, hand massages, played DDR (dance dance revolution) got our pics taken, played games, danced and everything (all without kids on our hips).
Way fun! I also got my hair done...I think an afro looks great on me!
(From L-R: Shelley "Shell Toast", Steph, Beyonce, Nicole "Cole", Gretchen "Crackers", and Melissa) Good Times.

Coming soon to a theatre near you...

2007-09-24T14:14:00.000-06:00

Starring (among many other very talented performers...) ME!

Feeding the Giraffes!

2007-09-05T14:05:00.000-06:00

This weekend John, Lincoln and I were blessed by John's parents with the opportunity to stay at the Broadmoor. WOW! It was amazing. We went for a bike ride, rode paddle boats, horseback riding, swimming, jogging, playing, exploring, eating at a super fancy restaurant...YUM. And lastly we went to the Cheyenne Mountain Zoo and got to do lots of fun things. Lincoln fed the giraffes, which was one of my favorite memories of all times. Those things are amazing! They're tongues are so long and slimy--yuck.
At first Lincoln was really creeped out but then he came around and was giving them crackers by himself.
Also, please note the random girl smiling in our picture. Come on, isn't it commom etiquette to at least pretend like you don't know you're in someone else's picture rather than smile for the camera like you're supposed to be there?

Thank Heaven for Mario Lopez!

2007-08-27T10:23:00.000-06:00

So I was watching Miss Teen USA the other night and was dismayed and (naively) suprised at the ridiculous girls that represent this parade of underweight adolescents.
The thing I was most amazed about is when they would interview the girls and ask them things like what are your hobbies...
I'm NOT kidding when I say that one of them seriously listed "texting my friends" as a hobby.
I think she sat in front of me at the movies a few weeks ago...come on..
texting your friends? Ugh.
Another said "listening to Reggae music".
This also...is not a hobby.
What about things like saving the dolphins, or recycling?
Okay, so my hobby list wouldn't be quite so well-rounded either, but I can guarantee it wouldn't include texting my friends.
Obviously I prefer email.
Kidding. But Mario Lopez was the host (which should have been my first cluse that it was going to be a waste of an hour. After watching these little pixies prance across the stage wearing high heels and hairspray I learned two things:
1. Our kids are in desperate need of reality
2. I should kill my television.
Thankfully, Miss Colorado won. Phew.

Dance your cares away (clap, clap)

2007-08-24T09:45:00.001-06:00

Who remembers the Fraggles? I was so in love with this show.
For those of you who would like to reminisce with me here is Wikipedia's rundown of the main fraggles:
Gobo is the "leader", level-headed and practical, and prefers to be in control of most situations. He plays the guitar (made from a gourd) and considers himself chiefly an explorer.
Mokey is highly spiritual and artistic (she recites poetry), and is usually quiet and contemplative. She is the optimist of the group, trying to see the best in everyone and everything, and comforting her friends when no such "bright side" can be found.
Red, in direct contrast to her best friend Mokey, is exuberant and athletic; she is one of the best swimmers among the Fraggles. She was described by Mo Rocca on VH1's I Love the 80s: Strikes Back as the "Buck the establishment Fraggle." She is also highly cynical of her friends' plans and ideas and often teases Gobo about his Uncle Travelling Matt (occasionally yawning while he reads the postcards). Red, like Gobo, also wants to be in control, and there is often friction between them over who should be the one in charge.
Wembley, Gobo's best friend, is nervous and pathologically indecisive (this is mostly because he doesn't want to hurt anyone's feelings; saying 'yes' to someone means saying 'no' to someone else). In fact, "to wemble" is a Fraggle verb to describe indecisiveness. In later episodes of the series, Wembley works with the fire department, as their siren. The Fraggle Rock fire department, however, does not put out fires -- it starts them.
Boober's cardinal trait is depression and worry, and his favourite activity is washing socks – Fraggles, however, do not seem to use footwear most of the time. Boober is almost always negative, and displays hypochondriac tendencies.
Now the 3 questions are:
1. Which fraggle is your favorite? I always liked Wembley, which by the way is a great name.
2. Which fraggle are you most similar to? I must admit, Red is probably the most accurate. Mokey always got on my nerves.
3. Which fraggle are you most compatible with? I think I actually married a Dozer--not a fraggle, which suits me well.
Feel free to indulge your fraggle fix by watching this brief, but entertaining clip:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pr_zwgEdm4c&mode=related&search=

Go ahead, it's Friday. We could all use a little Fraggle on Friday!
(And for the record, I hereby reserve the name "Sprocket" for any dog we may possibly get in the future)

"Oh look, he's so happy"...CHOMP!

2007-08-17T14:55:00.000-06:00

Does anyone else out there feel just a little guilty eating these things?

If you wanna hang out, you gotta taker her out....

2007-08-15T11:49:00.000-06:00

Cocaine? No, the fast food equivalent "Raisin Cane's"
It's no irony that the word "cane" appears in the name of the restaurant, because any of you that have had this would know...it's Awwwwwwwwwwwe-sum!
Yeah, when it comes to this place I'm basically like Lindsay Lohan- you can see pics of me in the tabloids hunched down in the passenger seat of our car with my hair all dishevled and my hood pulled up, eyes half closed with a little cane's sauce on my cheek.
And here is my downfall.
All you skinny people out there (and I know there are many of you who frequent places like Cane's and Sonic and can still look like Heidi Klum--yes Melissa, this means you ;) you'll never understand. But for the rest of us, who are more like Tyra than Heidi...eat on! In moderation of course, and only after a 20 minute jog (I'm KIDDING!)
It's so challenging for me friends. I'm such an emotional eater, and I must say my constant strain to lose the last 9 pounds of weight (okay, I'm lying...it's more like 11) I have on from toting a human being around in my body (how does this happen?) so that we can even think about having another child is really (pardon the pun) weighing on me.
I need a Jared moment right? You know that guy from Subway. Or maybe I just need to get over it.
I wish I could be like Tyra who said "you can kiss my fat black @$$" whoa, watch it Tyra. (Come on, I'd never say that!)
But I go back and forth between that and wanting to have my Mary Kate come out and--well you can imagine.
Either way (I'm a little sad to admit) guess what I'm eating for lunch today.
She don't lie, she don't lie, she don't lie.....

Da Dum Da Da Dum Da Da Dum Da Dum

2007-08-14T18:47:00.000-06:00

That's the Rocky theme song, for those of you who don't know...
I must admit. I was nothing short of reluctant (okay, I was down right protesting) when John wanted to see the newest Rocky movie. "Give me a break" I thought, "Slyvester Stallone...acting....again....please!"
Granted, I had never seen any of the other Rocky movies, and my knowledge of Rocky was limited to "Yo! Adrian!" and some american flag boxing shorts. But I must say, it was a good thing I was watching the movie alone in my living room because by the last round of the fight I was yelling at the t.v. and cheering Rocko on with everyone else....I'm not ashamed to admit it.
I am now a HUGE Rocky fan. I've become a little....how do you say...obsessed? with the whole series.
And, much to John's enjoyment, have wanted to rent all the old Rocky movies and sit through them (If only I'd get into Rambo now right John?) Anyways, there's just something...(I'm out of elaborate words here) cool...about Rocky kicking everyone's butt, not to mention the unbelievable characters that are in the movies. I mean, come on...Mick? He's amazing. Who can say the things he says and get away with it? No one!
So in honor of my new Stallone fetish, I will recall the top ten Rocky moments for you...please, feel free to patron your local video rental establishment to relive the magic (keep in mind I'm only on The 4th one...so there is much more to come.

10. Apollo Creed- in general. Especially when he comes out like Washington crossing the Delaware in those weird patriotic boxers.

9. Rocky with his pet turtles (link and cuff). How perfect.
8. The scene where Paulie is yelling at Adrian through the bedroom door to go out with Rocky (and Rocky is sitting in the living room).
7. Little Marie saying "screw you creepo" to Rocky when he walks her home...what a line right?
6. Mick saying "you gotta eat lightnin' and crap thunder" Not sure what that means, but like I said...only Mick.

5. In Rocky 3 when all the kids start chasing after Rocky and running miles and miles from home to follow him. Where were these kids parents?
4. Of course, Apollo Creed going on and on about the "eye of the tiger" business, which by the way is an exceptional song.
3. Clubber Lang--the scariest opponent yet. I pity the fool! Note: this has also sparked the nicknames around our home for Mikey (the fat cat) whom we call "Blubber Lang" and John, whom I affectionately refer to as "Hubber Lang".

2. Certainly, Rocky running up the stairs and dancing around and punching at the air when he gets to the top---that's classic.

1. Rocky yelling "Adrian-we did it!" at the end of Rocky 2 (don't tell John I told you, but I wasn't the only one tearing up ;)
Needless to say, I love these flicks. They also inspire me when I'm doing my combat kickboxing class at the gym (yes I totally pretend like I'm fighting Clubber Lang). If you haven't seen them...go...now....
stop reading.

The Schmidt-sons

2007-07-29T09:13:00.000-06:00

In honor of the epic Simpsons movie premiere John, Lincoln and I have all been Simpsonized. D'oh!

I Scream, You Scream!

2007-07-09T09:02:00.001-06:00

Lincoln and I started a weekly tradition last Friday....Ice Cream Dates!
It was a lot of fun. There is a small candy shop in Old Town where you can buy one ounce ice cream cones for 94 cents (I just realized there is no "cents" symbol on the keyboard...lame!) So Lincoln and I each got a tiny ice cream cone (he got to eat the entire thing himself...it was a mess...he loved it).
Lincoln ordered blue ice cream with sprinkles, and I got cookies and cream.
See photo documentation below.
All in all I'd say he's a pretty good date. Although we'll have to work on the whole diaper changing thing...and maybe HE could foot the bill next time :)

Are you truly Outrageous?

2007-06-30T10:32:00.000-06:00

Does anyone remember Jem?
So I was a die hard Jem fan. It got so out of control at one point that I would write my name with the n's so close together that it looked like "Jem" hoping people would call me that on accident. Looking back, she probably wasn't the best role model for me--as you can tell from the video-her relationship with purple-haired boyfriend Rio, was not only extremely physical (hello--they're always kissing) but was also full of it's ups and downs (ahh, the life of a rock star).
Not to mention that she's always ditching her friends (poor Kimber and Stormer) for her man--lame.
However, some good did come of Jem and the Holograms. For one, that earring she wears is pretty darn cool. I think I specifically remember touching my ear more than once and saying something to the effect of "Go Cinergy, it's time."
Also, if nothing else the phrase "truly outrageous" is quite fun to say. Try and work it into your next conversation and I'm sure some underground Jem fans will reveal themselves.
(A Gold star to anyone who can tell me how many times the word "truly" is said in the "truly outrageous" song).
Nevertheless, Jem is a fond memory from my childhood. I got the Jem barbie at one point and only liked her until her earrings burnt out. She had what I used to think of as "man feet"--you see Barbie had feet for high heels, Jem could only wear flats...ugh! This old obsession has recently resurfaced as I got a pair of earrings from a garage sale that are purple stars...I must say when I wear them (even if I'm grocery shopping) I do indeed feel truly outrageous.
Go Cinergy!

The joys of boys

2007-06-04T10:36:00.000-06:00

Ten things you learn very quickly upon bringing your little boy bundle home (or maybe just kids in general).
10. When the peenie is cold...it pees.
9. Hair-brushing is not a priority
8. Neither is getting the crap wiped off your bottom
7. Cat food looks like snacks
6. Cat food tastes like snacks also
5. Steep drops are not at all intimidating...in fact, they're just the opposite.
4. Mommy's hair, earrings, necklaces and anything else all look like perfectly acceptable pull toys
3. If it's not moving...I'm going to try and eat it
2. If it IS moving...I'll probably try and eat it.
1. Mommy is the prettiest! ( I Love that one :)

Preciousssss

2007-05-21T09:31:00.000-06:00

How creepy is that?
Many of you have heard this revelation in my life recently. For those of you who have not, I'm not done learning it yet so I'll continue to beleaguer the point. The Lord has really been revealing to me how much I covet. I never really understood the way this sin had presented itself in my life...I always thought "I'm just comparing myself" or "I'm just not content" but really it boils down to coveting.
Coveting my friends' size four jeans, or another friend's cute clothes, better stuff, cuter shoes, perfect bag etc, etc, etc.
It's nauseating how materialistic I am...really.
Well, obviously I was struck with the perfect image of what I feel like I become when I covet these things...(Lord of the Rings certainly has some redeeming value if nothing else than for spiritual analogies you'll soon learn). Anyways, this picture of Gollum, holding the ring hissing the word "preciousss" and holding on to it for dear life strikes my mind and I realize...I absolutely am like that with the many things I begin to covet in life.
I'm not content. (Certainly this can be a good thing when it comes to not being content with my pursuit of God, righteousness etc) When it comes to being un-content (is that a made up word? Maybe it's discontent?) with the things I have and the body I have etc. it's just destructive.
This morning I was reading in Luke and I read this:
Jesus told his disciples "Do not worry about your life, what you will EAT; or about your body, what you will WEAR. Life is more than food, and the body more than clothes." (Luke 12:22-23)
I know this is referring to the disciples not worrying about whether they would eat or be provided for, but it had a much different meaning to me sitting at my kitchen table this morning.
Life is more than food....
That means life is more than calories, diets, ideal weights, favorite jeans, "summer legs" and "Kate Austen" (the girl from LOST) ripped arms.
Certainly it honors God to exhibit self-control and not be gluttonous (and this is something I pray that he will help me to realize and not obsess over) but it really is such an insignificant pursuit to agonize over pounds and fat grams.
How futile.
How unrewarding.
Later in that chapter it says, "Do not set your heart on what you will eat or drink, do not worry about it, for the pagan world runs after all such things." (Luke 12:29-30)
It's true! It is a pursuit of those who do not know God to set their hearts on what they will eat and drink (low carbs, diet pills, etc etc). Our only pusuit and that which we seek is not cute clothes, comparing to the models, our friends, wishing, wanting, craving, comparing, struggling, envying, obsessing, striving.
It is to seek the kingdom of God....first....only...simply.
Just
that
alone.
Whoa! What a revelation that was to me. Now, the disclaimer is that certainly it is honorable to be healthy and have discretion etc. But it is not to be what I set my heart on.
And that my friends...is a very liberating thought being a woman in the century we live in.
Free at last, Free at last.
Thank God almighty! Free at last!

"I can Guarandamntee it"

2007-05-13T17:09:00.000-06:00

Guar-an-damn-tee [gar-uhn-dam-tee] noun
1. a promise or assurance, with profanity added to emphasize seriousness

-Okay, store that one in your brains cause I've got a great story for you...trust me you'll need it later.
First let me tell you about my perfect mother's day weekend.
Yesterday morning, John paid for me to go to breakfast with my friends and then we went shopping. I didn't have any money to spend--but that's never stopped me from looking...so fun.
After that, the Schmitty 3 went to the park and got a pizza and then played on the playground...so fun! It became affectionately referred to as "pizzaindehperk"-an all one word combo said with a canadian acccent for fun.
Here is a pic for your viewing pleasure--note: pizza goodness all over our little ceasar schmitty's face.

After that we went to the drive-in (and as a mother's day bonus Linc slept in the back seat) I ate cheese fries (YUM!) and we saw "Next" with Nicholas Cage (which was an unfortunate drawback to the night....I'm sorry I just can't take him seriously, but it was worth the comedic value of seeing him dodge a bullet a la Keanu Reeves).
Today, I got two cards, one from Linc and one from John and saw a beautiful vase of flowers cut from my garden on the kitchen table.
John offered to make breakfast, but I saved him (me and our smoke detector) the trouble and cooked. Then I got a shower and got ready for church UNinterrupted.....nice.
At church they gave us mamas a rose (awww) and then we came home.
Here is a special family pic:

So then we biked to the park and took a picnic lunch...yay! More photos (and trust me I'm getting to the best part)

So then we went for a nice long bike ride (down to get ice cream....I have to balance things out here) and along the way we got another Mother's Day bonus....mama geese with their little baby geese. So sweet. It was God's mama's day gift to many women I'm sure.

Okay here we go,
we get to DQ and there is a large parking space reserved for bikes in the middle of the other normal parking spaces. We park the bike trailer in the space and John's bike was leaning against mine. Right next to the bike parking was a b-e-a-utiful shiny red convertible with the top down (if you're really concerned about getting your car scratched....don't park next to the bike parking). We get in line and this grumpy fat man comes up to us and says "If one of those bikes falls on my car-we're going to have a big problem I can guarandamntee it".
A few things of note:
1.) this is not actually a word...please don't perpetuate the mockery of the english language by ever repeating it
2.) I do not condone swearing...but how could I leave this out?
3.) our bikes were far enough away that even if the bikes fell and then the wizard of oz tornado came ripping through...his precious red tin can still would not have been hurt by them.
Here's the best part....
I go move the bikes all the while stewing and steaming about the way this mean man came up to us and confronted us like that (he could have politely asked up to scootch--also a made up word, but much friendlier--our bikes over). I'm muttering under my breath, just wishing I didn't have to be on good behavior and I could let him have it. I'm even praying "God help me to love this man like you do so I don't tell him to get over himself like I want to". I get back in line and all of the sudden about a million tiny little leaves dump from the trees (everyone in line was turning their heads and pointing) and it starts dumping rain all over his pretty convertible interior.
I WISH you all could've been there. I mean I couldn't have planned it better if I was Carrie from that Stephen King movie.
This guy was scrambling to get the top up like I've never seen.
I know I know, we're not really supposed to rejoice in another person's troubles...but oh sweet Georgia brown....
I was so happy I wanted to skip (horrible...but true).
I'll tell you this much...that guy is going to have a happy old time cleaning all those wet little sticky leaves off the inside of his nice leather interior....
I assure you...better yet--I guarandamntee it!

Honestly people...

2007-05-12T15:57:00.000-06:00

Is it just me or do rude people always seem to get hired to work in customer service jobs? I was walking with some friends yesterday and we were, admittedly, a caravan of strollers (a reality I have come to embrace in my outings) but the looks we were getting from people that worked in the shops we were walking by were unreal. You'd think I was the bearded lady or something. Top that off with the appalled stares we were catching from single women or teenage girls (maybe we could be hired to prevent teenage pregnancy?) and I was honestly ready to get the rage virus and start smacking people.
I know...why should it bother me? Well it just does. It makes me downright grumpy.
Seriously grumpy.
I was at breakfast this morning with a few other friends and we had a bit of a wait. I asked the hostess if I could get a cup of coffee like the other two customers waiting outside and she said "No, we're too busy". Not a "sorry" or "could you check back in a few minutes."
Just, "No."
Needless to say I wasn't very happy.
So in honor of you Snipey waitress, and all you other grumpy butt people out there that have a life mission to ruin my day and take things overly seriously here is my tribute to grumpiness:

He sure is cute...but Grumpy nonetheless.

The softer side of grumpy.

He's a little creepy...don't look at him too long.

He never really was that threatening.

Also, for the next time you're out and about and someone really hacks you off--
don't jump over tables and turn into the Hulk.
Go to this website http://www.planetfeedback.com and complain to all the other unsatisfied customers around--you'll be in good company.
Of course, I guess you could always get over it (but that's much less satisfying)

Aria

2007-03-23T09:39:00.000-06:00

Everything's coming up roses...or lilacs at least (my roses haven't resurrected yet). I must say that with all the beautiful weather, and tiny green buds popping their little infant heads up everywhere, it's hard to not feel a sense of triumphant elation when you step outside.
There's just something about spring time, that tiny miracle that buds on my lilac bush (usually the first to bud annually in my garden) always amazes me. Things know when to come back to life. And along with that means excursions with the playmaster to the playground flavor of the week where he can explore and imagine.
It's a ball.

New Life

sprouting, budding
buzzing, springing
forth
Overcome dead, brown, cold
overpower grave, dark, drab
parallels more profound than we sometimes see
push past despair and gloom
know just when to come
save my soul from winter's cold
Believe in tomorrow
A promise of hope and future
A sign of forgiveness
Newness, youth
POP forward in skittles of spring- bright yet again
revive the earth
green and bright
Bluebirds SHOUT!
Proclaiming His excellence once more
Blossom to fresh new sprig of awake
Tiny buds of grace

The mourning is gone
The morning is here

It's a great big world out there

2007-02-28T15:10:00.000-07:00

Lincoln has officially discovered the wonderful world of mobility, though he still is having a hard time figuring out the difference between going forward and going backward.
It's an amazing thing to watch a little one explore the world they live in, as the bounds of the confined circle they were once limited to come crashing down around them-unveiling more than they knew existed. The best part is that the new realm doesn't reveal a stark, bland, boring existence--but rather a bright, bouncy, beautiful possibility.
Curiosity frequently gets the better of him (and unfortunately falls on his head sometimes) but nonetheless there is much to enjoy and discover. It begs the question at what age did I stop discovering the wonderful joys this world has to offer and why?
At what point did I become so bored with the everyday that I failed to see life and God's creation like Lincoln does...one opportunity after another.
And when, especially, did I stop taking the time to be thankful for the playground I live in, knowing that God established it for our enjoyment. Am I so arrogant that I actually think I've discovered all this world could show me and I'm no longer interested in it? Watching Lincoln carefully turn a spoon in his hand to attempt to learn all about it, or drinking water from mommy's cup like it tastes better, or better yet pulling himself up to standing and acting like he wants to let out a Tarzan yell or beat his chest like a gorilla in triumph. It's all so new and wonderful. To think he's never discovered the phone table...or the kitchen cabinets or (thank God) the toilet.
Having a child will give you new eyes.

One of "those" days

2007-02-20T18:17:00.000-07:00

Ever feel like you can't remember why you do what you do? Today was one of those days...
I know I know...I'm ashamed to admit it. But several times today I questioned my skill as a mother. Surely I was convinced that I would be better suited for any job than this (aside from the obvious-snake wrangling, and sky diving).
Of course all my woes were intensified when my husband successfully put Lincoln down to sleep for the night with little coaxing or crying (although I'm sure an entire day of screaming at me broke his spirited will just slightly).
What is it about parenting that makes it so challenging?
Maybe it's the fact that I'm walking up the stairs in my pajamas at 8:00 this morning trying to juggle a baby, a cup of coffee and a handful of puke without dropping any of the three on the carpet all the while wishing I had one of those jobs where I get to wear expensive shoes and have an "inbox".
Or maybe it's the fact thatthe second I got a minute of free time I needed to decide which was important enough to do, brush my teeth, wash my face, or make the bed (will you believe I made the bed?)
Whatever the reason...today was a challenge.
I must admit though, that I'm grateful for it.
I can look back at the times that I've been through challenges in the past and realize the way God used the circumstance to make me into a better woman. Hopefully I'll get to the point someday where I don't need quite as many challenges because I don't have quite as far to go...but I don't see that happening any time in the near future.
So you may be wonndering what it is I learned through my crazy child screaming his brains out, no minute of free time, dishes in the sink, is it 5:00 yet day?
(I feel a top ten list coming on)
10. Get up earlier than Lincoln....every single day
9. Pray more
8. Curse less
7. Let go of the small stuff (like combing my hair)
6. Take myself less seriously (especially when I've just been spit up on)
5. Remember it could be worse...twins?
4. Remember it could be worse...a high schooler?
3. Thank God for all the other days...that aren't like this.
2. Know that God gives me grace to handle whatever is dealt to me.
1. Keep in mind....he has to sleep sometime!
Someone remind me of this when he's making this face...

Heaven on a bun

2007-02-19T14:33:00.000-07:00

Ode to Cheeburger...
One of the greatest restaurants I've been to for several reasons:
You can pretty much get any flavor you can dream of made into a milkshake.
One word...frings...part fries, part onion rings....who is the genius who thought of this?
Hamburgers so yummy, greasy, good that you think about them as soon as your plane lands in Florida.

Which brings me to my next point....
I'm still carrying baby weight but no baby-are you suprised?

2007-01-27T19:07:00.000-07:00

Sweet Baby
Skin untouched by the world
Filled with bubbling bumbling wonder
Brimming with the stuff that summers were filled with
That cotton candy sticky kind of contagious joy
Handing out smiles like stickers at Wal-Mart
And indiscriminately friendly to strangers
Gumming the world away
Thinking it all tastes like peas and carrots
Smearing a bright eyed smile all over the canvas of your little world
And celebrating the miraculous invention of the blue plastic ball
When thrill costs a mere 88 cents plus tax
Wondering at the big people
Convinced they've all gone crazy
Heralding the morning with a smile
And coos that say more than I've said in a life time
You are mine for a time
My man
Little man

Does anyone have the time? Oh, it's five minutes till DOOM!

2007-01-17T13:50:00.000-07:00

You can imagine my dismay when someone informed me this morning that the "doomsday clock" was moved last night to be five minutes away from midnight.
Not only was I unaware that there was such a thing, but I certainly had no idea of the impending doom it implied. Intrigued by the idea I did a little research and would like to dispell some myths, as well as provide a little comfort for the "sick-to-the-pit-of-your-stomach" feeling you may all be having.
To quote ABC news :"The symbolism of the move is significant because the organization, which includes more than a dozen Nobel laureates, has moved the clock only 18 times since it was set to seven minutes to midnight in 1947. The clock has been closer to midnight, two minutes away after the Eisenhower administration tested a nuclear bomb in 1953. But it is also a long way from its most optimistic setting, at 17 minutes to midnight in 1991 following the dissolution of the Soviet Union. Today's change was the first since 2002."
So this thing is only really a clock in the sense that it has hands, but those hands can be moved whenever these "esteemed" scientists deem it necessary to do so. We've been two minutes away and 17 minutes away, all within the last 50 years, so let's not put too much stock in the idea.
Also, can I just mention as an aside that I'm surprised these "scientists" actually have jobs. I mean, somewhere in the country men are getting paid to sit around and predict when the world will end....and what good is that information doing us? Aside from causing panic in the hearts of many as we anxiously look up to the sky for a Korean war plane carrying a Nuke labeled with a gift tag to the US.
The comfort I can find in this is in knowing that our God is sovereign, and only He knows what will come of the world. I am confident that someday the clouds will part and glory will reveal creation and God's children as what they were created to be. I am also confident in my place in the kingdom of God, not because I boast in myself or my righteousness (certainly anyone who knows me knows I have none on my own), but because the word of God says so and I can boast in Him.
Aren't we so often tricked into thinking that we have a lot of knowledge, and we know what's going on...when it's all proved naught as we frantically move the clock back to a quarter till going, "Oh, we were just kidding that time."
I find comfort in knowing my future is secure and that I can live with freedom in the fact that I am an adopted daughter to the God that has claimed victory. No more fear, no more anxiety, just peace knowing my eternity is secure.
It does beg the question as to how sure you are of your future, and if you aren't sure do you know that you can be?
But having said all that I think it's safe to say that no scientist in Chicago can legitimately say they are confident of the timing end of the world's arrival. And just for the record, can we maybe fire these scientist guys and get them to do something a little more productive, like maybe...I don't know, create a cure for AIDS, or stop world hunger?

No More Searching for the Perfect Gift!

2007-01-16T11:58:00.000-07:00

Look no further!
Here they are folks, Anti-aging comfort booties. Tired of worrying about all those years your feet have been putting on? Well I have great news for you--for only $12.97 you can slip on these dream slippers and "your feet will actually feel the aging process reverse".
It's about time isn't it?
Act now and we'll also throw in this hands-free flashlight. Now you can do your sewing in the pitch dark (and look stylish doing it)

Tired of fumbling around in that dark bathroom trying to fix the plumbing? Don't turn on the light!--simply grab your hands-free flashlight and problem solved.
Act now! Offer ends soon!

Burying the Living

2007-01-12T11:19:00.000-07:00

I recently heard of a couple we know who takes no opposing stand on abortion and it so deeply grieved me that I had to vent about it somewhere, so you're all getting to see me rant (stepping up on my soapbox).
Let's start with some statistics:
*1.5 million babies are killed each year--that means 1/4 of all pregnancies in the U.S. are aborted.
*Abortion is the MOST FREQUENTLY performed operation in the U.S.
*There are more deaths by abortion in the U.S. each year than deaths from sickness and disease, accidents, or war.
*Only 2% of abortions are results of "therapeutic abortion" (when a mother's life is threatened) and cases of rape or incest, that means that 98% of all abortions are elective--the mother simply does not WANT her child.
Ugh!!!!
How can we turn our heads and not interrupt the largest genocide any country in the world has ever seen? The Supreme court has never even declared that the fetus is not a "life". in 1973 they ruled that abortion should be permitted until those opposed to it can prove it is a human life. In response to this, Ronald Regan said "Anyone who doesn't feel sure whether we are talking about a second human life should clearly give life the benefit of the doubt. If you don't know whether a body is alive or dead, you would never bury it."
Not only that but consider the overwhelming evidence that it is in fact a life:
3 weeks pregnant: the child registers heart activity
6 weeks: the child has brain activity
8 weeks: the child can swim in the fluid of the womb and grasp an object
10 weeks: the child has a distinctive set of fingerprints
12 weeks: all the child's organs should be functioning by now and the child can now breathe oxygen from the fluid in the womb, swallow, sleep, change positions, respond to pain, suck his thumb, and hiccup.
18 weeks: the point of "viability" at which it is possible for a child to survive a premature birth.
Consider also that women are able to have abortions all through these stages of development, and many women don't even know they are pregnant until 8 weeks, when the child has DNA, brain activity and a heartbeat.

Now, these are far too graphic to post on my blog, and have really been disturbing me so greatly, but if you honestly need more convincing about the impact abortion has you can look at these photos (you've been warned):
http://www.abort73.com/HTML/I-A-4-photos8.html

In light of this: will we sit back and allow it to happen to our future generations?

Yes Virginia, There is a God

2006-12-22T11:17:00.000-07:00

This is quite possibly the best Christmas ever...and who would have thought. The blizzard of '06 has hit Denver and left us stranded with no flight until Christmas Eve. I was certainly a little bitter about it, but day after day my prayers have been answered and this is turning out to be one of my favorite Christmases ever. God is so gracious to us!
Some things never get old. Hearing Lincoln laugh about the same things over and over, building snowmen and baking Christmas cookies. How is it that I missed these things? At any rate-the blizzard left John and I miserably sitting at home wondering what to do and living out of the suitcases we've had packed for our trip for days. It would seem to be a waste of time being at home, nothing to do, nowhere to go.
But it turned out to be a wonderful blessing in disguise. John and I had a great time laughing, throwing snowballs, building a fort and a snowman affectionately named Frosty Schmidt.
Anyways, it's a great reminder of all the Christmas magic that floats around this time of year. That elusive, glittery stuff that only comes when you're not looking for it. To quote the Grinch:
"Maybe Christmas," he thought, "doesn't come from a store. Maybe Christmas...perhaps...means a little bit more!"
It's so great how God used a horrible set of circumstances (the mess of the plane, being trapped, snowbound and cabin fever crazy) to make me realize how grateful I am for all the wonderful Christmas fun we get to have as a family.
Merriest of Merries to all....

I am woman-Hear me...Snore?

2006-12-13T15:52:00.000-07:00

What nail will you hang your day on? You must hang it on something every morning. Your agenda. Your priorities. Even sleep. or God's agenda.
These were the words of wisdom I recieved recently that changed the way I think about what I do.
I was never one of those "quiet time every day first thing in the morning" girls. That was too legalisitc for me. But when this point was brought up to me it really struck home. You see as women we are given the unique ability to single-handedly set the temperature in our home each day. When I come downstairs with a grumpy--"what can I be excited about today?" or "how many hours till my husband gets home?--let me kill the time" attitude (which is unfortunately, all too often I must admit), the thermostat slides down to a chill 40 degrees in the Schmidt house. But--when I take the extra few minutes to focus myself, remind myself that I am God's daughter, and I need to act like the beloved one I am--I hang my day on God's agenda--I focus my priorities and see the day as a gift--well then it's creeping up to a cozy 70 degrees in our abode.
It's great to be a woman! God really created us to be amazing. Maya Angelou said in the poem "Phenomenal Woman":
I don't shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It's in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
the palm of my hand,
The need of my care,
'Cause I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

How exciting can it get? We all know we have some certain intangible power over the life of our household. We're the encouragers, the supporters, the thankful ones, the cheerfulness, the joy, the laughter, the lilt, the thrill, the hand holders, the help meets. We get to boost the spirits of our home. We are created to be phenomenal.
But I can assure you that if I choose to hang my day on anything less than the strength of God's word and intentions, (by choosing those extra 15 minutes of sleep--or just plain not trying--- whatever) my character is anything but phenomenal.
Oh to get to the point where it's no longer a struggle to choose this every single day---to get to the point where it comes naturally to me. It seems like something I'll never attain.
But I'm just one choice away at any moment from a warm day---or a cold one.

Good news of Great Joy that will be for ALL nations!

2006-12-06T15:08:00.000-07:00

Joy!
The Lord is come, Let earth recieve her KING
Let every heart prepare him room
And heaven and Nature SING!

If you miss the point this Christmas...it's not because you didn't hear it--it's because you weren't paying attention.
There's something about this idea of God choosing to come to the earth and in the humbe form of a baby...and then (as my pastor pointed out on Sunday) you'd think he would have appeared to the righteous, the leaders, the upper class...but he came to shepherds...the outcasts, because he wanted everyone to know it was for EVERYONE. And if he'd told the religious leaders--no one would have believed it.
On top of that he chose a 16 year old girl to get pregnant out of wedlock and introduce the king into the world. Then he was born in a stable of all places with absolutely nothing.
You can't make stuff like this up. And if anyone can hear this and think we serve a God who is redundant, sleeping, traditional, predictable, or even angry---they haven't listened. Because he chose to show himself in the least predictable, most humane way he knew how--a baby.
And if anyone has ever been around a baby you know that there is nothing they can do on their own...the God who can do everything-came to earth in human form-as a person who can't do one thing for himself, and shared in our weakness, relying totally on a 16 year old girl to care for him--all because he loves us tremendously and wanted to save us all!
Get your head around that....
and if your heart isn't shouting JOY right now....maybe you should check your pulse!