New To This Farm Stuff

A Lilac post from the Farmboy

2012-01-25T19:22:00.000-08:00

Hi! Farm boy writting today. The snow is on the ground here, but not much of it. I have had about eight months to think about this post and am just getting around to writing it.

A couple of years ago we built a new barn. Primary purpose??? Storage-- well actually, LITTER storage. Does that sound cleaner than "manure" storage?

This allows us to keep nearly a year's worth of litter until we can spread it in the spring. Which is really nice --- unless it IS spring. Then there are many, Many, MANY Semi truck loads to haul and spread.

Around May 10th, we were in a hurry to finish cleaning out the barn. I was on my third load of the day hauling to our farthest field away. I was hot. I reached for the air conditioning to turn it on. A couple minutes later I realized the air coming out was hot! Noooo!!!

I'm hot, sweatty, smell like the wrong end of an animal, and can't get some nice cool air? This is going to be a long day.

Maybe it will cool off the cab a little if I leave it on.

NO.

The next time I pulled out of the farm I decided to use the more natural approach to cooling off.

ROLL DOWN THE WINDOW!

I had not gone 100 yards when the most amazing smell filled the cab. The lilacs were in bloom!!! One of God's most fragrant, sweet smelling plants. A few minutes later I smelled another group of them. What a beautiful relief from the foul smell I had been experiencing.

Within a couple of miles there was a man cutting grass with his mower. In drifted the scent of fresh cut grass. Then came another batch of lilacs. How refreshing.

In those brief moments my day had been changed from slightly-annoyed and forgettable to one of my favorite days to think back on.

Many times I am the one whose attitude is poor. My critical spirit leaves an odor much worse than turkey poop.

God, make me a pleasant person to be around. I want to brighten peoples day like the fragrance of lilacs in the early part of May. Help me leave smiles in my wake.

"For we are a fragance of Christ to God among those who are being saved and among thoe who are perishing." 2 Cor. 2:15

In need of grace

2012-01-23T19:48:00.000-08:00

There are moments as a mom that you just wish you could use white out tape on. This picture is January evidence of a September "Mom-Fail" day.

This is our 2011 first day of school picture. Three of my ducks all lined up. Back packs on, dressed as best as I could coach 'em, and all ready to head out. Third Grade. First Grade. Preschool. In that order. And like any mom planning their senior open houses as we tie their shoes, I *NEEDED* a picture of this day. With signs. And smiles. Looking at the camera.

SMILE. Come on guys. Now, smile.

(Beginning to growl now)
S-M-ILE.

This is what I have representing our first day of school this year. It will likely be in all three of their picture books. Nice, eh?

Lesson 100,000,007 of being a mom to an introvert. Scratch that. Lesson 100,000,007 of being a mom to anyone. You can't force the smile. Quickly followed by: Give them grace.

What I overlooked as her mom on the first day of school was that she was terrified. confused. excited. and hating every second of having this moment captured on film. I wish, oh how I wish, that I had given her grace on this day. I would love to roll back the clock take the other two's pictures and save the all together picture for a happy day when the transition wasn't as overwhelming and the routine had buffed the edges.

Lesson #-----Nevermind.

What I'm dying to say is......
..........
..........
I fail at this mom thing all the time. I am wildly in need of God's grace to get through these kinds of moments and all those in between. Because I want to love them like Jesus. I want to carry them to Him. And I want them to know that they know that they know, that Mama loves them-Jesus loves them-when they just can't smile. When their worlds are splitting at the seams and they feel anxiety till they are sick. Right now, I can be those arms to wrap them up and love them like Jesus. Whisper his name, his precious, life giving name over them.

Oh' Lord, make me a woman of wild grace. Help me as I lay my expectations to the side to watch for places I can portray your extravagant love to those around me. Lord, harken my heart to the needs of those precious gems in my care.

2011-10-28T18:36:00.000-07:00

There is a beautiful path that leads from one small town to the next, and occasionally, when I've had one of *those* days, I take the kids to walk. Sometimes we load up their bikes and sometimes we just walk nice and slow. There are so many great places to get on the path, near the grocery store by the picnic tables, but if you take that section you have to cross a big road, twice. And with four. Well, you know. There is another spot to get on, just down from the old bakery that is good for parking, but you have to walk along a semi busy road for a block or two to get on. Recently, we've started parking at the edge of an asparagus field, laid to rest till next spring, and we unload and begin our journey where fewer cars venture and the peace seems immediate.

The moment my feet hit the trail the tight winding of my heart begins to release. Gabriella begins spotting everything from fuzzy caterpillars to sidewalk snails. She has an eye for the handiwork of God. Deeply fascinated with the things He has created and instinctively filled with awe. Sometimes it take me a good fifteen minutes of observing and following before the concerns of this day fall and give way to this shared delight.

A friend of mine has told me many times that "delight covers a multitude of sins in parenting." Surely that is the truth, and the reminder seems to redirect my time with these happy, curious, little people. However this time, here on this section of trail, delight uncovers my heart. It is here in the midst of falling leaves, climbing trees, and occasional squirrels that I begin to finally reengage.

"Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me."

Why is it so hard to see the gifts God has given from the inside of my home? Why don't I come here sooner if I know He is here waiting to win back my heart from the cares of the day?

"Restore to me the joy of your salvation and grant me a willing spirit to sustain me."

I think sometimes I feel guilty if I admit that it would require a change of environment to generate a change in my demeanor and spirit. Today, however, I recognize that it isn't time for THAT battle. It is simply time to just embrace that there is a quick fix for Mama's attitude problem, and rather than beat my head and grumble some more, I need to quick fix my eyes on the Lord. I heard once that a famous pastor's wife used to flip her apron over her head to pray and made a tiny sanctuary of peace, even if for a minute. Brilliant woman hiding from the piles of unfolded laundry.

"Open my lips, Lord, and my mouth will declare your praise."

If we ever encounter each other out on the trail, and you spy me walking slow and drinking in the Lord's goodness and savoring His gifts just smile and understand I am a work in progress.

Psalm 51:10, 12, 15.

First Inclination

2011-10-27T18:51:00.000-07:00

I laugh inappropriately. I'm nearly famous for it.

There.

It's out in the open and we can just MOVE ON.

Like the time during my step-Grandpa's funeral when the wind rattled the creepy double doors in the funeral home right before the funeral began, and I nearly keeled over trying to stuff the hysteria. Laughed so hard my sisters were giggling and elbowing beside me. Totally inappropriate.

There was the time when I took my girlfriend, Stacy, to the hospital for dehydration (read puking her guts out) while her hubby the pastor went to youth group and I laughed like a hyena while she got shots in her rear. All the nurse had to do was say, "Pull down your pants and bend over." and I was GONE. I'm laughing now and that was completely UNFUNNY.

Once, a visiting musician came to our church and was greatly built up by the pastor. He came up to minister to us, thanked us, and pulled out a recorder and played a tune. The recorder?! About a minute in and I was sliding down and off the seat to stop the entire congregation from watching my body wracking from hysteria. I have NEVER laughed at someone like that before and to this day I remember the agony of trying to stifle the bubble up.

And finally, there was the time I was sitting with friends in a restaurant talking about a terrible natural disaster and comparing stories we'd seen or read on the news, and Ryan relayed the devastation of a teenager being sucked out of a sunroof during a tornado. I think he was even buckled up. For whatever reason, it just struck wrong, and I laughed at the irony of it all.

Why in the world am I talking about this terrible flaw?

Because I learned something recently that I think has the power to change me.

This may be a long quote but hang in there with it and make it to the end. It will be worth it.

While I was teaching the video sessions for 'Living Beyond Yourself', God led me to discover the Greek word 'horme' as I researched various passions and their power to motivate. According to New Testament Lexical Aids, "Home is an impulse or urge, a strong and forceful movement toward something, and connotes the ideas of thrusting, propulsion and suddenness. It is not unlike a sudden thought, whim, or dictating inclination." After praying that God would invade every part of my thought life, I added this new dimension to my prayers; "God, fill me so completely with your Holy Spirit that even my reactions and sudden impulses are godly." ....Under stress and crisis, our first reactions at various points may be fleshly and selfish. What if we began to attentively and repeatedly pray for the Holy Spirit to invade and renew us so richly and deeply that even our impulses were godly? That even our "default" response was sanctified.

-Beth Moore "The Patriarchs", p. 62-63.

I actually gave you one of my more forgivable natural inclinations, but what about my inclination to flashes of anger, fits of selfishness, and a razor sharp tongue. I have begun praying that God would change even my impulses, that He would have his way in every recess of me. Join me?

"Search me, God, and know my heart;test me and know my anxious thoughts/ See if there is any offensive way in me,and lead me in the way everlasting." Psalm 139:23-24

I'll try to finish the Revival notes soon. Have an acronym I can't wait to share!

Not to Us

2011-10-25T13:55:00.000-07:00

Revival is a renewed interest after a period of indifference or decline.The Bible teaches clearly and repeatedly that God wants to revive our relationship with Him.He wants to wake us up, refresh our faith-to fire us up again....Revival is getting back on the path, getting the goal in view again, and pursuing with new passion the One who can make your life more than you ever dreamed. Revival is God, gladly at the center of my life, experienced and enjoyed. I see God working.He's working in my life and I'm loving it more and more. That's revival.

-James MacDonald "Downpour"

We can't mince words today. Not about this point. The goal of revival will ALWAYS be Him!
His coming. HIS working. His leading. HIS power.
Revival will not be about me. It will not be about what I did or what "we" did. The goal will be His glory. His honor.
Less of me. My hopes, goals and vision will become second or even fiftieth to His plans and agenda.

Interestingly enough, God is speaking in reverb and just yesterday I received a mailing from Samaritan's Purse with an article entitled, "A Needed Revival" by Hyman Appelman. His thoughts are chilling and have me checking my motives and asking for purification.

"....the chief purpose---is to exalt the Lord Jesus Christ. I am very much afraid that one, if not the chief, reason why God is not blessing our efforts is that we are selfish, that we have no thought for the glory of the Lord Jesus Christ. That is why many of us are not doing anything. Many of us are not in love with Jesus. We have no compassion for the lost. We work for each other, for our churches, for our pastors, but the least little thing throws us off balance. Only by enthroning Christ can we claim the promises of God, the fullness of His Holy Spirit, the answers of our prayers."

The revival that I am begging for and in desperate need of, perhaps you are as well, would bring the Holy Spirit front and center in my life. And honestly, more of the Spirit in me would not make me a freakish streetwalker wearing a sandwich board sign screaming "Repent!" into a megaphone.

More of the Spirit in me could only bring sweetness, greater love, more compassion, and a closer walk with our Loving Father.

After all-
"The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control." Galatians 5:22-23.

This post is the 4th in a series on Revival Fire- Asking God for a Faith that Burns. I spent this summer camped out with the Lord on the idea of Revival and the Spirit just won't let me go. I'm asking the Lord for personal and corporate REVIVAL. I pray you will be encouraged to cry out for the same.

A working definition

2011-10-24T19:11:00.000-07:00

photo credit

Revival? Like a tent meeting?

The image that comes to most American's minds when we discuss revival has some warped picture of large scale, deeply suth-un (liberally apply accent), active shouting, white tent meetings that lasted about a week.

I don't want to knock the efforts of those involved in the tent meetings, but that is not the kind of revival I am talking about. This is not a week of meetings.

Another image that might spring to mind is one of widespread weeping, jubilation, perhaps riotous laughter, and other emotionally extravagent behavior. Revival is not an emotional takeover, it is, at its core, a TOTAL TAKEOVER.

Perhaps to begin, as one of my sweetest mentors does, with a definition. A working definition, if you will.

Revival is a satisfied longing for God's presence and power, evidenced by a NEW working of the Spirit.

This begs the question, "How would your life be different if you were CONVINCED of God's presence and power?"

And

"What fresh work might He do?"
Thoughts?

Smart Phone...a VERY Smart Phone

2011-10-23T12:42:00.000-07:00

There it hung in the cross hairs of the Lord's sovereignty.

My desperate need for a fresh word from Him, a very real desire for His leading and direction, and a conspicuously quiet season with the Lord. I was feeling a kind of quiet anticipation that makes me lean forward in expectation. I had learned experiential after a difficult season last year the Lord enjoys us enjoying Him and that although painful, there is hope of joy at the end dark tunnels.

I heard (felt) the quietest of whispers.

Revive us, Lord, according to your word.

Revive us, Lord? Sounds like a passage I had read before, but address- unknown.

So I did what any diligent Bible Student would do.(note the sarcastic tone) I asked my smart phone. "Revive us according to your word"- GO. And within seconds I was staring at a variation of a verse I'd read many times.

Psalm 119:25, "My soul cleaves to the dust; Revive me according to your word." (NASB)

Revive. Revive. Revive.

Oh' Lord, that is what I desperately desire, to be set aflame by your promises, according to the promises you have made, and not just for me, but for my Farmboy, my children, our church, our nation. Oh' Lord, please.

Right below the Scripture reference on the Google page was a link.

When do we need revival?

Friends, follow the link. Follow the link. Follow the link.

I pray the Spirit moves as you determine if your soul has cleaved to the dust as mine had? Do you need revival as I do?

Cleaving to dust

2011-10-21T17:56:00.000-07:00

"My soul cleaves to the dust...." Psalm 119:25

I whispered the words at night a few months ago. Words dropped, next to tears on my pillow, spilling this way and that as Mike and I ended the day before the Lord. Always wrapped in each others arms, thanking God for what has been and recounting things we desperately desire.

This time it is the dusty cry of a parched heart. "Lord, I am so dry. It has been so hard and I feel so alone. Why can't I feel your presence and Oh' Father, please speak. My heart aches to hear you speak fresh to this set of needs."

I knew He never leaves. Never a moment without His presence. Always protected. Always loved.

But I was desperate for something fresh. I was not alone.

"As a deer pants for streams of water,
so my soul pants for you, Oh' God.
My soul thirsts for God, for the living God." Psalm 42

It isn't wrong, you know. To confess to the Lord that you feel a longing for Him. Or even that you don't. Perhaps, like me, like the Psalmist, you soul has cleaved to the dust and it has left you unsatisfied. Sometimes the parchment is self inflicted- sin, confessed or otherwise, anger, bitterness, ingratitude- all drought producers. Other times, it is a trip through a divine desert place meant for our growth.

"O God, you are my God,
earnestly I seek you;
my soul THIRSTS for you,
my body LONGS for you,
in a dry and weary land where
there is no water." Psalm 63:1

The kind of thirsting that I am describing is the thirst of someone who has once drunk deep of the Spring of Living Water. This parched, cottoned mouth has felt the filling of the Lord and longs to again be satisfied. She has felt the intimacy of a heart cleaving to her Savior. So had the Psalmist.

"I have seen you in the sanctuary
and beheld your power
and your glory.
Because YOUR LOVE is better than life,
my lips will glorify you.
I will praise you as long as I live,
and in your names I will lift up my hands."

"My SOUL WILL BE SATISFIED..."

Psalm 63:2-3,5a

Isn't this the thirsty one? Isn't this the weary, dust cleaving one? Now recounting the glory of the Lord and the love of the Lord. Finding strength to lift up his hands? How? How? How?

"My SOUL WILL BE SATISFIED..."

That night in my bed I cried out for renewal. I had not stumbled. I wasn't in a pit of sin. (But for the Grace of God). I wasn't in rebellion. I was just thirsting for more of HIM. I had a giant dissatisfaction with the world that left me pining for nothing that will satisfy and growing inside me was a deep desire for change.

It wasn't until a few short days later that I realized the renewal that I was hoping for had a different name, a biblical name.

REVIVAL.

The backstory....revival.

2011-10-20T12:16:00.000-07:00

When God leads it may feel more like a subtle current than the rushing of a wave.

This is precisely how I would describe the theme to the summer. God moving me along from one lesson to the next without a clearly determinable path or string of connecting the points.

In April of this year, I was asked to lead a workshop at a local women's retreat. One hour on some undetermined topic to which I agreed. An hour. *Shrug* An hour is...well, let's just say for a talker/teacher an hour is a blink. I agreed and then stewed for a few months.

"Lord, how would you like me to spend this hour of our time? Is there a topic YOU want me to cover? Bible study? Word study? Workshop on juggling?" Naw, not juggling. I can't juggle, anyway.

And so it began. The listening for some detectable leading. And for months, I had nothing.

I read a book about the Holy Spirit. It was wonderful.

I lead a Bible Study through Esther. It was great, too.

We walked beside some of the bravest souls I've ever known. Cried buckets of tears, begged God for physical healing, and walked humbly before Him as I processed a phenomenon I'd never known before.

NO WORDS. Nothing that could be said to make life all better. No wisdom except the Lord's. No words.

It had been a quiet, quiet season.

I don't want to misrepresent, though. The Lord and I still enjoyed our time together each day. I sensed His presence powerfully, and mightily. He answered prayers, gave vision and direction for other facets of life, but in the back of my mind, tucked away, there was an hour long workshop that had NO direction.

This quiet spot is where the cord finally began to weave. A time of prayer. Listening. And finally ONE scripture.

"My soul cleaves to the dust; revive me according to your word." Psalm 119:25.

The Peace

2011-09-18T12:24:00.000-07:00

It is a mixture of slow and rush here these fall mornings.

The nip is enough in the air that I've curled up in blankets with my coffee to meet with the Lord in the early mornings. It's darker when I rise, and though my farmboy has usually started the coffee pot and been up for a while already, I find myself scurrying around in the dark from the warmth of the covers to the warmth of my spot downstairs.

Of course as most Mommy's find, my time is scarcely long enough, and often I'm interrupted by little snugglers, warm from their beds, minutes before I've turned back to the Lord to pray for the day. Brendan wants a spot under the blanket, Lexie wants directly on my Bible, and Gabi wants a place on the arm next to me. Part of me is torn, wanting to just say the time hasn't been long enough, I'm not ready, I haven't prayed for peace and strength, and wisdom, yet. But as my Lord does with me, I gather their sleepy heads and whisper "Good Morning."

Sweet moments dissolve quickly as I shoo them to the table, provide short order service, breakfast burrito, waffle, and cereal. Really? Couldn't we all agree on one food? Should I address this Lord? Are they being selfish or am I? Lunches made, notes signed, bags packed, and I join them at the table for a few minutes together. The most sacred part of our mornings.

I open our book and read to them out of Mark. The story of Jesus, tired from a day of teaching, heads down to sleep on a pillow deep in the boat. You know the story. A storm sweeps up and the boat is rocking, swaying and taking on water. The disciples are not only afraid of drowning, they are a little bothered that Jesus could sleep while they all drowned. He awakes.

And I wonder if He is groggy. Does God in flesh feel rested when being awakened by crying children?

"He got up, rebuked the wind and said to the waves, 'Quiet! Be still!' Then the wind died down and it was completely calm.

He said to his disciples, 'Why are you so afraid? Do you still have no faith?'

They were terrified and asked each other, 'Who is this? Even the wind and the waves obey him!" Mark4:38-41

Always checking for comprehension, I asked my little diners a few questions about the story when LexieBeth turned to me.

"Mom, I know why the wind and the waves obeyed Him."

"Really, honey, why?"

"Because He is God! AND He has the peace!"

This time instead of leading them to Him, they led me.

Didn't I know this already? That I turn to him, obey him, because He is God, and he has the peace.

Oh' yes.

He is the Prince of Peace, isn't He. And that is exactly what He has left us. He is the one who does not give as the world gives, but instead gives us his peace (John 14:27). It is the very fruit of the Spirit within us. Peace.

I direct my thoughts back to the Lord, the stiller of wind and waves and fix my mind on Him. He has the peace.

He. HAS. the. PEACE.

that I need for this day, whether I feel prayed up or not. Whether the morning is Norman Rockwell or not. Whether we are showered, scrubbed, clipped, brushed, and tied, or not. All I need is to fix my mind on him.

"He will keep in perfect PEACE, him whose mind is STEADFAST because he trusts in you." Isaiah 26:3

Unplugged

2011-08-09T13:45:00.000-07:00

They come here to getaway, or that's what they tell me.

Each time my parents come here to our little spot on the farm they encounter the spot where hi-speed Internet has failed to reach. The land where two bars is the best you can hope for and checking voicemail requires a drive up the road, around the corner, down the hill, and up into the cemetery, which seems to be the only spot they can hear well enough to write down the urgent.

Honestly, Mike and I have joked for years that we should charge all of them (4 parents, ya know) a commission for the getaway time, as they all seem to strike more business deals from this Michigan kitchen table then any other time.

My mom told me the last time they came that she had shared with her ladies Bible study that they were going to get away from it all. And the truth is they did. We have telephones that work, they just aren't theirs, we have computers and Internet, though they are slow, and we have no satellite television or cable. We are 40 minutes from Target, 40 minutes from Starbucks, and an hour and fifteen minutes from the nearest Pottery Barn. We have two fast food choices, and a hand full of other dining options available in a closer proximity. Compared to their homes, we are a quiet retreat center.

When they pull into the driveway they put their phones aside, their schedules aside, their multitasking aside, and breathe in country air. And if they sigh just so on our porch swing, or on a walk around the garden, I can almost feel it too. Space. to . breathe. I, too, find that quiet spot where I can hear more clearly. In my own backyard.

Its almost laughable that anyone would view our home as a quiet retreat center. We have four active, gregarious children, ministries, work schedules, smart phones, email, and a DVD player, for heaven's sake. My home is filled with people frequently, and I like to think it rings with laughter and joy regularly. There is always laundry to wash, fold, put away, dishes to do, bills to pay, and calls to make. It certainly doesn't feel like a retreat center, it feels like a bustling bed and breakfast that provides maid service, taxi service, and homework assistance.

But when my parents walk through my doors and sigh and it all rolls off. I've found myself wondering since they left the last time if I could keep that feeling of peace and retreat here. It has been elusive, like chasing a butterfly that darts each time I think I've laid hold.

So, here are some things I'm working on to try to capture that feeling of retreat.

1. I'm asking the Lord to quiet me.

I realize afresh that my state of mind sets the tone for my family and as I fix my mind on Him the noise I make in this place is less clanging like a gong (1 Cor 13) and more like a melody. I'm beginning and ending my day with Him and His word.

2. I'm asking the Lord to show me the "things" in our lives that need to go.

Less background noise. Fewer movies. Limitations on Internet time (me). Once in a while, I'm silencing my phone and putting a sticker over the message light.

3. I'm asking the Lord to help me see excess and clutter.

More stuff doesn't equal more peace. It means more to maintain and put away and it often leads my heart further away from my husband, family and Lord.

I desperately long for our home to be a place of peace. It may never be our retreat center, but it can be a place of peace.

Have you made the decision to turn something off recently?

Apply Faith

2011-06-16T18:20:00.000-07:00

"Thanks, Lee, that's really great."

I can't even remember what her name is now. Its been well over six years since we sat in that dark corner of the church foyer at two tables pushed into a square. She was thin with short dark hair and probably ten years my senior.

I'd just read her a verse I'd picked out and had prayed over her for the last week. She was a new believer, if she was a believer at all, and I'd sensed she needed encouragement and an opportunity to see how relevant God's word was. Is. And so she thanked me and told me that she appreciated my prayers and the verse.

Three months later, as we packed up to move to Michigan, the tables turned and it was that same brunette who held the mirror to me to shine truth back. This time she was the one who penned the words to coach and encourage. It went something like this...

"Dear Lee,

I'm glad you are finally getting the resolution you have been hoping for! Moving to be around family. I know you have been anxious and unsettled about the moving process and how it will effect your new little family. I hope your knack for picking out verses for people will help get you through this spot. I think the words you gave each of your friends in Bible Study are appropriate for you now. Time for you to apply your words. Time for you to be the one to claim peace and faith.

Best Wishes,

Skinny Brunette"

Okay, so I *actually* have no idea if that was even close to the original first four sentences of her card. But I'm certain those were the gist of the final two.

Those words stung and brought me great embarrassment. Someone saw an area of unbelief in me.

So, why share? Because today I found myself applying faith to one of my sweet friend's situations believing whole-heartedly that my God is with her. HE is holding her. He has a plan for her. And in the next moment despairing from lack of peace about a difficult relationship we are involved in.

That still small voice brought Skinny Brunette's voice to my mind and spirit again.

Time for you to apply your words.

Time for you to be the one to claim peace and faith.

And so I busted out an oldie but a goodie.

"Trust in the Lord with all your heart,

and lean not on your own understanding.

In all your ways, acknowledge Him,

and He will direct your path." Proverbs 3:5&6

Enough whining and despairing.

Time to apply faith.

Dear Sixteen Year Old Me...

2011-06-15T19:23:00.000-07:00

Dear Sixteen Year Old Me,

Happy Birthday! The little red car in the garage with a bow on it is yours. It's a gift from your parents. Don't freak out. Its a stick, but you'll take your driver's test in the Grand Prix. And you'll pass. Practice cleaning it out once in a while, it'll give us a leg up in the future.

The gap between your front teeth will never close. Braces couldn't hold those puppies together. But never fear. You'll finally have them capped- much to your pleasure.

You get an allowance right now that seems small. It is exactly twenty dollars more a month than you will have as an adult to blow on coffee and entertainment. Enjoy it. Continue to treat your friends to lunch periodically. And hey, when they hand it to you, stop and thank your parents for it. Gratefulness is something you are going to have a lot to learn about in the future. As is savings, but let's take it one step at a time.

Do me a favor, don't enroll in that Chemistry class next year. It is going to be the only class you ever fail. And it won't matter how hard you study, you just aren't going to "get it." Physics isn't in your future, I promise. But English on the other hand, you are going to use that so pay attention.

Sixteen year old me, you need to REALLY listen.

The guy you are dating right now, he is not your husband. He's not even someone you will see after graduating from High School, heck, you guys won't even be "Friends" on Facebook. I don't know how to break this to you, but the next five guys you date, yeah, they aren't your husband either. Its gonna be a rocky road and though you think you are making better choices, you have some colossally stupid decisions just around the bend. Take the hint- being alone is not the end of the world. Find a hobby, make close friendships, learn to balance a checkbook. There will be a day when you will beg for a little time alone, enjoy these free moments without needing a male present at all times.

Sixteen year old me, listen close.

Fidelity isn't going to come easily to you. We both know you can't stay focused on one person right now to save your life. I need to tell you that it doesn't get easier to be a one man kind of woman. There are no blinders handed to you at the altar that keep your eyes from roaming. Practice right now being faithful. You don't have to serial date, there is a man God designed just for you and he's not that far in the future. This would be the perfect time to start getting it right and start being faithful to him. Sixteen year old me, you are not defined by the mistakes you've made in this area, but this is the perfect time to start getting it right.

Girl, listen. I'd give fourteen year old me and seventeen year old me the "what for" if given half a chance, but you have your head on and you are heading in the right direction. I'll tell you why.

The decision you've made to start going to youth group is going to change your life. You are going to see Jesus in people there and its going to to set your feet on a path to eternity.

I know being a "Christian" is something you are confused about, but you are on your way to discovering the lover of your soul. Your healer. I know you are wounded and can't even identify all the ways yet, but that Bible you hold in your hands is about to become the salve for your heart. I know about the tabs you put in that second hand Bible, don't be embarassed when it takes you a long time to find those passages they talk about in Sunday School. The experience of being new to God's word is going to be invaluable in your future. Sink deep in that word and treasure the teaching you receive here. It is good and your mentors here are directing you well. This Word is the light to your path and the stirring inside you to learn, that is the Holy Spirit. Just so you know.

Sixteen year old me, one last thing.

Its gonna be a hard year. You are going to loose a really close friend, unexpectedly. You are headed toward some of the greatest times of growth for your faith, and one of the largest pits of your life. I wish I could mark it all out for you so you wouldn't have to fall, but hear my heart. The decision you are making right now to learn to follow Jesus IS EVERYTHING. I can't get you through the next few years, but HE will. He does. He is good to us over and over again.

Your attention is waning, I can tell from here. You can head back to doing whatever it was you were doing. Unless it was watching 'Days of Our Lives.' There just is no good excuse for watching that show, sixteen years later, they same people are still hookin' up and breakin' up and there's already enough drama in your life. On second thought, go sit on the porch swing and enjoy the night sky and the mountains.

That view definitely won't be the same in sixteen years.

I watched a video on you tube the other day called Dear Sixteen Year Old Me about Melanoma. The thought of sending a message backward was intriguing. Honestly, I'd like to write a note to many years, but that's another story. What would you tell a sixteen year old you?

Benched

2011-06-14T06:18:00.000-07:00

Is it enough just to be on the winning team?

This is a question that just rolls and rolls and rolls around in my mind.

Can I be a bench warmer?

There is this THING in me. This nagging, self sickening place inside me that is desperately afraid of not being MVP of EVERYTHING. Just writing that brought stinging to my eyes and it may take a minute to come back from a really ugly cry. But truth be told, oh' how I just long for truth, well, the truth is that somewhere in my mind is that 90's slogan that "Second is just another way to say first loser." Could it be, Lord, that in the hidden recesses of my heart that I've hook line and sinker bought that second is a euphemism for not good enough?

Let's get one thing straight. There is nothing wrong with doing your best.

"Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord..." Col. 3:23.

I'm positive that the Lord is honored when we put our heads down and work with all our hearts for HIM and it succeeds. And we win the race. And we sang in tune. And the event was a success. And the house was clean. And our kid's graduated. I'm sure He gets a great big kick out of it when we look back over our shoulders and grin at Him and say, "How in the world did you do that through me?"

It isn't these moments that throw me. Its the lingering doubt that I'm okay with God choosing to use someone else this time. While I was reading to my kids out of 1 Samuel after breakfast, I read the story of little Samuel hearing from God. The point I was supposed to be making (and did-somewhat distractedly) was that Eli the priest taught little Samuel how to hear from God by saying "Speak, for your servant is listening" because "Samuel did not yet know the Lord: The word of the LORD had not yet been revealed to him." (1Samuel 3:7). Little Samuel didn't know the voice of God, yet and it was time for someone to help him learn to listen to the voice of God. And while I sat reading, praying ever so that my children will too, hear the voice of God and become humble servants of Him, I was really fleshing out the shoes of Eli.

Because the night that little Samuel heard that voice calling his name, and while he mistook that voice for the old priest's and heard for the first time the fresh, mind blowing, sensory lifting, EVERYTHING voice of God, a priest and his hopes were shelved. Benched.

I picture Eli awakening from the grogginess of sleep for the second time by a child who thought he'd heard something (been there-done that) and harkening to the realization that this boy who slept mere feet from the Ark of God, was probably, actually, hearing the voice of the Almighty who had been conspicuously quiet. I wonder if, as the old priest gave the instructions and the word's for leaning an ear to BREATH HIMSELF, if that frail body ached understanding that the WORD was not coming to him. Not only were his sons, hell bent- literally, outside of God's plan for the future of the priesthood, but this tender child would now be the vessel and the tool rather than him. Surely the realization that he was being passed over for the reception of God's message did not pass Eli by.

And oh' there are times when I confess this desperate longing to be the best at everything. The best wife. The prettiest girl. The nicest voice. The best, most patient, most creative, always dolled up mother. The best housekeeper. The best friend. The most talented. The most gifted. The most intelligent. The one USED. The most FILL in the BLANK. You are beginning to grasp the scope of the problem.

The problem is that I just want to be a rock star. To You. To Me. To God. And to anyone else that might notice. I WANT TO BE THE MVP and I want to be the one receiving the message.

But it doesn't always work that way with 6 Billion other people on the planet. And greater still Jesus said, "whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first must be your slave- just as the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many." (Mt 20:26-27)

There's this really catchy Psalty song from growing up that says something like "if you want to be great in God's kingdom-you gotta be a servant of all..." And if I want to be like THE SERVANT, I am going to serve.

And so here it is. The lesson from Eli.

Even when I desperately want to be the one in the game, even when I desperately want to be the one God is using, even when I want my opinion to be sought and valued, or to be every one's favorite, what is most important to me is that God's voice is heard and that I am relevant and a superstar in God's mind for being faithful with what He HAS given. I have no doubt that Eli wished he could hear the voice of God himself and to be privy to God's mind on the matter, but he was faithful with the job in front of him.

This time, well, this time he was the MVP's trainer. The one bringing in the water bottles and watching the little one play the game. And instead of focusing on not hearing HIS voice, Eli trained little Samuel how to hear God speak and waited (albeit a little nervously and fearfully, I suspect) with expectation for the little boy's message. Because Eli knew, he just knew, that the word of God, whatever it said was worth listening to.

"So Samuel told him everything, hiding nothing from him. Then Eli said, 'He is the LORD; let him do what is good in His eyes.' " (1Samuel 3:18)

I don't want to romanticize Eli, he is certainly not a biblical hero, I just fellowshipped with him this morning over scrambled eggs and reheated waffles.

Nobody wants to be a benchwarmer. But just to be on God's team. Oh' Lord, just to be on your team will be enough. I will lay down all my aspirations of grand slams just to wear your jersey.

I see that greatness in God's economy comes through service and that His star players are the ones who are willing to lay all the fan fare to his Son, Jesus. If I look at him and just direct my thoughts to him, that I don't deserve to even be on the field at all. Just to be counted as His, and to have His eye on me is enough.

There are no small sacrifices to an all-seeing God. There are no unnoticed acts of service, no mundane jobs done well. The eye of God and His approval is infinitely enough- and if I just lift my eyes to Him I will see that there are prizes waiting not just for the MVPs but for the benchwarmers, the watergirls, the cotton candy guy, and yes, even the janitors.

And it leads me back here again.

"Whatever you do,
work at it with all your heart,
as working for the Lord, not for men,
since you know that you will receive
an inheritance from the Lord as a reward.
It is the Lord Christ you are serving."
Col 3:23-24

Stalked

2011-05-23T07:15:00.000-07:00

The feeling of being watched by a predator is suffocating.

That consuming rush of adrenaline, fear and survival mix in a moment making everything inside me take notice. Light. Shadows. Sounds. Wind. Everything in me heightens waiting and planning simultaneously. And I tighten my grip.

I've been out late and the parking lot is dark. The walk in was filled with a light and airy sense, spinning a quick plan of activity and normalcy. A hop, skip and a jump in. And now, the darkness has spread itself like a cloak over the area that such a short time ago seemed vibrant. Light feelings have fled and in turn this short walk seems epic. Unknowns. So much could happen here in the dark. So much lurks here. I would have to fight and I tighten my grip on my keys.

This time it isn't the unknown that swoops over me. It is real, and it is ugly. A nest of turkey vultures has been built by one of the nastiest creatures I have laid my eyes on, and it is in the tree line at the south west corner of our land. They nurture the ugly and feed on death and just the thought turns my stomach. I mow our lawn, a little, most every day and as I near their nest they launch into flight and turn tight maneuvers over my head. Haunting and dark, though they do not touch me, they cast shadows in broad daylight that cover me entirely. Shadow over me with wings shadow six feet wide. I am intimidated but I have a job to do. I feel threatened though untouched and I tighten my grip on the wheel.

And this time is also real, though I can not see my adversary. It is not in my imagination. I am threatened, those I love are in peril, and my eyes are of no help. My plans, though important, do not predict an outcome and my fight is of utmost importance. My enemy desires nothing more than to devour everything I love, yet this time I am not alone.

"The thief comes only to steal.

and kill,

and destroy." John 10:10a

"Be self-controlled and alert.

Your enemy the devil

prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour." 1 Peter 5:8

This is not a game. This is my every day life. I. Have. An. Enemy. Me? Really? And though he looks like a simple serpent in the kid's Bible, he desires to kill me, destroy me, devour me. And mine.

I wasn't alone in the parking lot and I wasn't alone on the tractor. And greater still in this daily battle with enemy unseen and yet tangible, I AM NOT alone.

"The thief comes to steal and kill and destroy,

but

I HAVE COME THAT THEY MAY HAVE LIFE

And have it to the FULL." John 10:10.

"Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you.

I do not give to you as the world gives.

Do not let your hearts be troubled

and do not be afraid." John 14:27

"The LORD is good to those who hope is in him,

to the one who seeks him;

it is good to wait quietly for the salvation of the LORD." Lam. 3:25-26

"Put on the full armor of God so that you can take your stand against the devil's schemes....

so that when the day of evil comes,

you may be able to stand your ground,

and after you have done everything,

to stand."

Belt of truth. Breast plate of righteousness.

Feet fitted with the the gospel of peace.

Shield of Faith.

Helmet of Salvation.

Sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God."

Ephesians 6:10-19

Same enemy. New day. Same God.

SAME GOD.

And I tighten my grip.

Dandelions

2011-05-16T19:15:00.000-07:00

"Thank you, sweet girl. You know Dandelions are Mama's favorite, right?"

My favorite flower hasn't always been a Dandelion. One of my dearest friends from High School became a florist and introduced me to the wide world of flowers. Reds, oranges, yellows, violets, and pinks. Our God is so creative. I'm not gonna lie. I still love a beautiful bouquet of pink roses that scream FTD, but nothing the florist could deliver captures my heart like one picked by a hand I love.

Lilacs are arranged in our every day, barrel glass cut with a Gerber pocket knife by a hand calloused from hard work and smeared with grease from the day's unexpected trials. Fragrant and sweet purple lovelies. My Farmboy brings them home every spring and leaves them on the center of my table just to say, "I love you."

Vibrant orange tiger lilies arrive with no stem at all and I struggle to stifle the laugh that bubbles up. They just picked one of the heirloom flowers we wait all year to enjoy. My sweet friend and grandmother in love gave me these charming delights that are well over one hundred years old. They belonged to my Farmer's grandfather's grandmother and have been on the farm bring nurtured from generation to generation. We wait for them to spring forth from the earth each year with anticipation, there is nothing as anticipated in our landscape. So, as the girls come running in with tiny flower in hand, no stem for vase, I know this one is to only be enjoyed for this short time. How can I be disappointed with the gift? They brought me the lovely, and deemed me worthy of such a beautiful gift. They come with our best and I'm so pleased.

Friends and family cut roses, hyacinth, tulips, daisies, and so many more and offer bouquets of love and friendship and I am blessed. There is rarely a time when my window sill is not full of something beautiful.

But the Dandelions....well, now they are my favorite. Everyday my children run outside to pick the yellow sunbursts and bring them in. "These are for you, Mommy. These are for you! I know you love them! We could put them in a vase, couldn't we?" And they are delighted with the gift they offer and I am delighted to my core to be blessed with these gifts.

Tonight I stare out into my yard, full to the brim with Dandelions in bloom, I choose to see the lovely. The yard is ripe with weeds able to creep in and steal joy, but these I will call gift because they bring joy and opportunity for love to be spoken without words.

"Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things." Phillipians 4:8

2011-05-16T18:05:00.000-07:00

Mom, something is wrong with this one.

2011-05-15T19:29:00.000-07:00

I pry up the lid of a jar nearly every day.

I never in a million years would have predicted that my life would involve ANY kind of food preservation. I mean I ate out with my family probably 5 or more times a week growing up. Cooking was near torture and Applebees our favorite place. Couple a fierce sense of defeat with any attempt in culinary pursuits that fails and you've got one seriously insecure cookie on your hands.

I've been waring with domesticity from day one. And I'm not going to even try to sell you a load of compost (wink) and tell you that I've grown to treasure my time in the kitchen. I'm not there yet. I still cook out of sheer necessity. And the fact that there are really only five or six restaurant possibilities in the county may play into it. As does the fact that I know every person behind the counter at McDonalds and that I'm sure they keep a mental tally of my visits.

See, I'm beginning to realize that eating out is a whole lot more about escape, entertainment, and freedom from responsibility for me than it is about enjoying the food. Some days I just need freedom from the four walls and a few other adults within eyesight. They don't even need to talk to me, I just want to see another person taller than 4'. And I don't think that's always wrong.

But I'm being tutored now in the area of being "busy at home" a la Titus 2 and some of my favorite lessons have been canning food for my family.

I can't believe I've even written these words.
Those who know me best are giggling alongside.

Do you know what goes into this? Canning involves a whole lot of time. First, you prep your kitchen and make sure you have a somewhat clean environment. Get all your utensils ready, start the canner boiling, wash and prep the fruit. Prepare, cut, pour, wipe, lid and ring. Then you sink those dazzling jars of love right down into that bubbly water and wait the prescribed amount of time. Lift the jars our and wait for the magical sound. If all goes right- Ping! SEALS pinging in a symphony of success. If you've ever canned, you've listened too. The next day those beautiful jars are ready to be carried down to the canning cupboard to wait for the time when snow swirls and the wind bears down around our home.

This act of domesticity involved much thought about those I love. It has been a labor of my hands and my heart for the nourishment of their hearts and bodies. It is learned and it is as unnatural to me as parting my hair to the right instead of the left.

Imagine my feeling of disappointment when Brendan called for me to look at a jar sitting on the countertop. "Mom, something is wrong with this one."

Oh' no. Probably didn't seal. I bet I forgot to wipe that one, or I filled it too full. Or I didn't process it long enough. I admit feelings of defeat before even looking.

"Well, this one doesn't say "Ball" on it like the others do, Mom. But that's alright. I wrote it on there for you."

"Oh', well, thanks, bud. That's great."

I think sometimes we are our own biggest critics as moms, wives and children of God. Is there an area in your life that you suffer from "immediate defeat syndrome?" Do share.

How Love Behaves

2011-05-11T19:26:00.000-07:00

For quite some time now, two of these three angels have bickered.
And I mean pick, pick, pick.
Never good enough for each other, never quick enough, never kind enough.
Grumpy, don't mess up my stuff, bad attitudes.

And as a mom, it not only drives me bonkers, it breaks my heart.
I find myself saying to them over and over that this is not how

Love
Behaves.

Love makes sure there is a long fuse and a slow burn.
Love seeks to encourage and engage warmly
Love deals softly with feelings and words spoken.
Love isn't jealous of time or things
Love doesn't say I'm the best
It isn't snide
It puts itself after the others.
It doesn't jump at a chance to be upset.
And it doesn't keep score.
Love doesn't jump up and down when another gets what's coming.
It rejoices in good decisions.
It always fights for others.
It always gives another chance.
It always expects the best from another.
It always has faith.
And Love always tries again.

But best of all
Jesus says it will never fail us.

Loving will always work out for us.
Maybe not right away, but love always wins.

It's always MY turn to love.

Maybe this isn't just a lesson for the kids afterall.

(1cor 14)

Infected

2011-05-10T07:50:00.000-07:00

Be prepared to itch.

I'm gonna tell you about one of the most HORRIFIC experiences in my seven and a half years of motherhood. Scratch that. In my entire life. No lie. I'm twitching just sitting at this keyboard thinking about it.

The Wednesday before Halloween started off relatively normal. We were running behind getting ready for school. I was fixing Gabi's hair as quickly, delicately, and yet somewhat stylishly as I could due to the thirty second time constraint. I glanced down at her scalp and spied something about the size of a half a grain of rice. Tiny, nearly clear, brown thing. I put my fingernails around it and pulled it out of her hair setting it down on the bathroom counter top.

And then it crawled.

NO.

No.

no. way.

I parted her hair and saw another. I tried to grab at this one and it ran into her hair farther.

Another part. A little white dot. Another part. A little white dot.

Rush to the computer. Google search- "What do lice look like?" Up pops a picture of the guy you see in front of you. The self same thing I had just pulled out of my daughter's hair.

THE HORROR. My child had lice. I calmly loaded her into the car, dropped my son off, and slinked into the Kindergarten room. I could not have felt smaller as I whispered my plight to Gabi's teacher. "Gabi. has. lice. WHAT do I do?"

Questions just flooded me.

"How do I get rid of these thing?" "What are people going to think?" "Do you have to tell her whole class?" "We shower every day. I wash her hair every other day...." "How did this happen?"

Gabi's teacher is so sweet and asked me if I still had that information on headlice with the coupon for lice shampoo that was sent home the first week of school.

Umm, no. We weren't going to get lice. HA!

The next hour of that day is absolutely etched in my mind in slow motion. Trip to the small town (read know every soul in the store) pharmacy. Search the aisle for lice shampoo. Found it next to the lice sprays for your bedding and unwashable items. What? You mean this might be in my house??? Try to hide the incriminating evidence until handing it to the cashier who I'm pretty certain thought, "Why don't you just bathe your children regularly?" Okay, maybe I'm making that up, but that is definitely what I thought she thought. And panic drive home. Start reading the directions and did that really say, comb through her entire head twice today with this tiny comb? Do they have any idea how curly and thick this child's hair is? Okay, fine. And check anyone who shared a bed with her. Well, that was great. Gabi slept alone. Right?

Something in me just knew I needed to check Lexie Beth, too. First part, first swipe of hair. LICE!

And that's when I started to itch. And I couldn't decide if I was itching because of the bug that I just picked out of my daughters' hair, or because one crawled across the counter in front of me or because I knew deep down that this was going to be a TON of work, or because I might have those things in my hair too.

I called Mike and bless his punkin heart he came home as quickly as he could to help me, because I not only needed to kill the lice that were alive on their heads, I had to pull every single nit out as well. And from what I could tell from google reading, these puppies weren't just white and obvious, but also itty bitty, nearly unseen pin head size sacs. I'm just gonna fast forward here and tell you I pulled HUNDREDS of tiny clear pin head size nits out of their hair. I took everything I owned to the laundry mat in town, and while I pulled it from the car I called my friend and cried my eyes out. While I was hauling the bedding from every bed in our home inside, I began super itching. I felt wandering on my scalp. Hot shame tears coursed all over my face. By the time I got home I had my Farmboy confirm that which was obvious. I had lice, too.

************************************************************

The spiritual implication here is too good not to make.

You see, just like we were all exposed and infected with lice (somehow-never did figure out how), I became VERY aware that I have been exposed and infected with sin.

I was infected from birth with something much more consequential than little, nasty, scalp feeding bugs. I HAVE A NASTY SIN CAPACITY.

What is sin? Sin is ANYTHING that separates us from God's righteous standard.

And unfortunately we are born with a bend towards it.

"Surely I was sinful at birth, sinful from the time my mother conceived " (Psalm 51:5)

"Just as sin entered the world through one man (Adam), and death through sin, and in this way death came to all men, because all have sinned...(Romans 5:12)

But sin isn't just the DNA code I was born with, a little rebellion in me. Sinfulness is also the thousand choices that I make every day that choose my way over God's way. It is pride and self giving priority to all things ME. It is that nasty party of me that I wage war with every day.

And here it is. Lesson one from the lice.

Upon further inspection, I'm just full of the little nits of sin. I have tiny little bits of self scattered throughout my entire life lingering just under the surface, till it becomes so painfully obvious that others can pick up on the living, breathing, feeding sinful yuck walking across a counter top. And unless the Holy Spirit calls that sin to light it continues to hatch and spread and hatch spread.

Romans 5:20-21 says, "When you were slaves to sin, you were free from the control of righteousness. What benefit did you reap at that time from the things you are now ASHAMED of? Those things result in death!"

I've chewed this sin thing over and over again as it relates to the lice, and one of the most consequential whisperings of the Spirit is that sometimes I am desperately unaware of the signs lurking just below the surface....by the time it is obvious, it is often a MAJOR deal.

To be continued......

Visit

2011-05-05T13:23:00.000-07:00

My mom flew in today.

That means games.

Cupcakes.

Crafts.

Special treats.

Movie Nights.

Steaks.

Late night talks.

Nature walks.

A trip to the Dairy (read icecream).

Even as I type the tribe has been in the yard hitting golf balls for thirty minutes.

Its a beautiful thing.

Forgive a day or two of quiet. My Mom is here for the treasuring.

From THERE to HERE Grace

2011-05-04T19:00:00.000-07:00

Memories can just be flat difficult to overcome.

I've spent the last week pursuing Christ in the book of John. I've said it once and I'll gladly say it again, I am the woman at the well in John 4.

I have the been there done that wardrobe. I've sipped more than my fair share of this world only to find myself drunk on emptiness and desperation.

But by the grace of God go I.

As I revisit this Samaritan chapter, I feel the same creep of shame begin its subtle approach. Moments long forgotten. Years of darkness and wounding choices. And this time, I take that new memory of the past and capture it afresh.

I've learned if I can hold onto that thought and turn it over and over again in my hands, the Lord will reveal truth at every side. I whisper prayers for discernment and healing. And breathe his name into the memory.

Jesus.
I repent, again.

Wonderful, brilliant light now visits that dark moment. I remind myself, and the Lord, that this moment, too, was one that my Savior died for. I own every part of that nasty memory and confess my behaviors unworthiness to my King. I repent of sin against Him and then confess injury of all the others involved. I am grateful to no longer be shackled to those same sin patterns but perhaps even more grateful that even this memory past is not going to be lacking of His powerful redemption. And then I breathe in the forgiveness.

And the residual guilt it just doesn't weigh as heavy as it once did. My Savior carries that burden, too. I ask for help letting go. But prayers serves me well, "Spirit, prick me if ever I take a foot down this path of destruction. I NEVER want to return."

And He is faithful, the next time the memory returns, somehow, it has lost some of its sting. I am the one healed. My Lord? Well, He is the One lifted higher than even my memories.

May it always be so.

(Photo by Quyelen)

Come Away With Me

2011-05-03T11:11:00.000-07:00

It isn't usually this romantic.

Generally it is about 6am, and I'm wearing an old t-shirt, stretched out yoga pants and my copper framed glasses. I whisper hello before I even lift my head off the pillow. I tell him I love him and that I am glad for another day to be his. I enjoy the thought thoroughly before I even sit up.

I sneak downstairs to make a pot of coffee, certain that there will be great enjoyment ahead. Connecting. Searching. Pursuing.

I sit curled up in a blanket and offer him my time, my mind and my heart. They are his to direct as a water course. And often I simply wait for the sleepy fog to clear before I move towards him. I try to remind him every day that I'm desperate for him.

I need you.

I can't do anything without you.

Please visit with me today.

Here. Now. Speak.

And then I lovingly open His word on my lap. Awed again that I could possibly hold a word that lives and breathes. And I meditate. Savor. Linger. And feel the pierce of the sword that reminds me that there is still shaping to do within me. He is faithful to remove the dead, debreed my wound and offer healing balm.

I breathe breath prayers and He heals me from guilt, shame, selfishness.

He is mine, and even still, He judges my thoughts and intentions and the writer says

"There is no creature hidden from His sight,

but all things are open and laid bare

to the eyes of Him."

Even as He wounds, greater still, He heals. I only have to remind myself of the changes in me to be certain that He deeply loves. This hand with scalpel is working for my good and so I lean into the word without recoil.

"Therefore, let us draw near with confidence

to the throne of grace,

so that we may receive mercy

and find

GRACE

to help in the time of need."

Hebrews 4:12-16

This has been our way together, our intimate meeting, and I say again thank you for His word.

I am not worthy of his time or attention and I am grateful and feel full. I am loved in return.

Every so often someone asks me what has helped me to grow the most in my relationship with Christ. And I can say without hesitation that is has only been since I committed to daily time in His word that I've experienced continual marked growth. Is it always so romantic? Umm, no, not always. This past fall I experienced the darkest of days since coming to know my Savior. Even still, I fought to draw near to His word. While the anxiety I experienced was nearly paralyzing, I knew my healing would come from His word and I wrestled with Him there. On the darkest days, Mike would read to me and I would cry, and try to agree with every word. I felt the struggle for my mind very keenly in those stormy times.

It has been five and a half years since I committed to daily scripture reading, before that time it had been several times a week for most of my adult life. Don't get me wrong, anytime in His word is good time, but now I fully understand a day without His word is one in which I've starved myself. Are there seasons where the meetings have been brief? Yes, one hundred times, yes. But He is faithful and ordains our seasons and knows our hearts. Let's feast on His word, He is always available for the nourishing.

Photo credit to my Mom. I love her so.

Mourning your enemy

2011-05-02T10:33:00.000-07:00

Its a complicated thing to mourn someone bent on evil.

As I rose this morning and staggered downstairs, messy haired, glassy eyed, my farmboy spilled the headline news. And it dripped all over my mind.

A man determined to take American life, outright murder the innocent, annihilate the unsuspecting has met his Maker at the hand of an American soldier.

The death of this "enemy" leaves a quandary of emotions and thoughts to wade through.

Relief. Justice has been served.

Pride. In soldiers who have served well.

And the strangest one to add to the mix.

Grief. A life lost.

I've been trying to put my finger on why I'm feeling a little uncomfortable with the jubilation of some. And I remember a passage out of a book that my family read together during Advent.

The scene is the rescue of a little boy named Jotham from a terrible group of men who are determined to take his ten year old life. The men are decidedly evil and the act of killing them obviously was right.

"What plan?" Jotham asked excitedly.

Just then the clatter of metal against metal and men screaming drifted through the trees.

"That plan," Nathan said, hanging his head. "May Jehovah be with them."

Jotham gave a little shudder at the sounds of men dying, and Nathan held him even closer....

"Decha's men are dead, " he said flatly.

"But how can you know?"

"Because if Decha had won," Nathan said with just a touch of sorrow, "he would be celebrating loudly. Since it is quiet," He listened for a moment before finishing, "we know that our friends are in mourning."

"Why mourn for that camel dung? Jotham spat. Nathan stopped walking and dropped to one knee, facing the boy.

"Jotham, it is a terrible thing to take the life of another, even when it is necessary. Decha and his men are Jehovah's children, even if they don't act like it. To take their lives was a sad and difficult thing. (They) mourn that it was a necessary thing to do.

.....

"Jehovah, forgive your servants," (Caleb) said softly, "for what we have had to do on this night. Judge the spirits of these men as you will, and judge us in light of your mercy."

All the men said, "Selah," then they stood and, on by one...

Jotham's Journey: A Storybook for Advent

by Arnold Treeide

Selah, indeed.

I will be processing through this with my oldest tonight and will bring out this excellent resource again. Are you mulling this over as well? Care to share?

Sometimes you just want to be left alone

2011-04-30T10:37:00.000-07:00

It isn't all about me.

Even a few minutes around our family would reveal to a stranger that we have two high functioning extroverts in our ranks. Three enjoy people but recharge alone. And one of us is an introvert who loves the people she knows.

There are moments, I'm learning, that I need to stop inviting people over. Stop encouraging play dates. Stop accepting invites. Much to the extroverts' shagrin. Much to my shagrin.

Serving my family means that sometimes I'm going to feel a little isolated so that the rest of my family can recharge. Life isn't all about my wants being met. A life well lived is the one that abandons self, isn't that the one Christ applauds, and don't I want that most of all?

And even though it is SUPREMELY difficult for me to say "No" to people (or "NO" to myself), sometimes that is exactly what would make me more like Christ. Because the Lord very rarely speaks directly to my heart when I'm running my mouth. In fact, the most poignant moments I've had with my Lord are the ones where I've been all alone.

I want my children to have time to hear the Lord speak.

I want my husband to have the free time to head to the woods (alone) to hear the Lord speak to him.

And if I program us with activities every day of the week, we may miss opportunities for growth.

Father, I see some selfish patterns I've made in the way our family spends our time. Sometimes we need to be alone. Even though you've created me, wired me,to engage and enjoy people, I really want to hear you speak. Help me to understand the needs of my family and to make sacrifices for them. I want to honor You with our TIME, too.

I know this is a two way street. Sometime the introverts need to step out.

Any tips you'd share on margin? I'd love to hear them.

Sometimes the celebration isn't Hallmark

2011-04-28T13:31:00.000-07:00

I love a good commercial.

One of my favorite types are the ones where the mom walks down in a white terrycloth bathrobe, pours a cup of steaming hot coffee (previously brewed) and sniffs the aroma. And I watch in expectation. Remembering years of pouring cups, wearing a clean bathrobe, and remembering to preset the coffee pot. Current reality? Umm, no.

Several years before children, I went to a Women of Faith conference in Denver. It was a snowy drive up with a woman I hardly knew and I sighed relief as we pulled into our hotel that night. I'd gone, virtually a stranger to the entire group, longing for a connect with other women and carrying a heart that was seeking renewal.

The conference was full of what I was hoping for and needed. Worship in a sea of many. No men to distract, and relative darkness to sing, yes even dance, with abandon. The speakers spoke to wounds I was nurturing as a disillusioned newlywed, and I remember Luci Swindoll pulling out a mirror and beckoning us to reflect the Lord's light. Unexpectedly, the light the small mirror reflected was nearly blinding as she panned it over the audience illuminating our faces. It is a teacher's dream to hit a sweet spot like that, being used of God, bringing a teaching which the Holy Spirit seems to sear into memory even 11 years later.

Though the mirror is still a visual I draw from personally, the second most memorable moment was watching a woman talk about motherhood. She was on her knees on stage putting a strewn diaper bag back together and for ten mesmorizing minutes, I understood that motherhood was not going to be easy.

Its almost Mother's Day. And I have been working on that monologue. This time I have four children and I understand each and every reference to exhaustion, bodily functions and insecurity. As a matter of fact, I've done several revisions of the wording to lighten the tone and to take the edge out of the voice. Motherhood is not about bitterness for me today. But it is about sacrifice.

I can personally relate to the sentiment of loneliness despite the presence of four little companions. I can fellowship in the suffering of picking up 10,000 legos only to do it again the next day. My living room is cluttered, my dishwasher is always full and my laundry basket is clearly broken. It never seems to empty itself. And like the character in my script, I am desperate for God to show up in my kid's lives despite their mother. Oh' how I pray I don't ruin them.

Fast forward again to an email today from my pastor about the script. He said, "This script doesn't seem like a CELEBRATION of motherhood." Lord, love him, I know he's not being critical of me and I won't feel one bit sorry if we pull the plug in an attempt to bring a lighter tone.

I can't let this one pass without saying, sometimes the celebration of Mother's Day isn't going to be Hallmark approved. Sometimes my celebration is my children spilling coffee all over my Bible. Praise Him, it was open in the first place, it meant I met with Him today. Sometimes the celebration is the child in time out up stairs because it meant I was taking a cool down moment to gather my thoughts from my anger and beckon the Spirit to speak correction through me. And sometimes the celebration is just the staying here in the thick of it and laying my head down again to do it all over tomorrow.

My farmboy said, "I agree with the Pastor. This doesn't feel like a celebration."

I'd agree. Some days don't feel like a party. Its not always pretty and it isn't always much fun, but its good.

And that is reason enough to celebrate

That nagging voice

2011-04-27T19:05:00.000-07:00

So you want to be a writer?
Ummm. Yes.
What do you want to write about?
*pause*
About all the things the Lord speaks to me in the mundane moments of life.
You think people would really read about that? YOUR boring, mundane life?

I guess I don't really know. But I have been told things in the dark that I must whisper to the light. Moments so precious that I KNOW He drew near and whispered them to me.

I don't know what this is going to look like. But that voice of doubt and sneer is not from above, and I've gotta be faithful to record the messages.

The Holy Spirit speaks and I must breath in His words and exhale His words.
Read or unread, this journey to the heart of God must be recorded.

What a lovely sight, what a lovely sight

2010-12-16T10:49:00.000-08:00

There were days when I thought I'd never hear Gabi sing. Days when I sat on the floor of my kitchen holding her while she cried and screamed and I cried and screamed on the inside. I didn't know what she wanted and she couldn't tell me.

Mothers are supposed to have a handbook somewhere that tells them how to know if there is something wrong with their children. Or at least there should be a digital screen on the kid's forehead giving you a diagnosis you can google. Ear infection. Pink eye. Tummy Ache. Faking It. Whatever. Though I'm sure if Gabriella's screen read "Apraxia" I would have hit webmd.com and freaked out. The road to the diagnosis was a long one. MRI's and a phone call the day after Christmas three years ago let us know that Gabi had grey tissue in the speech and language section of her brain. "This is probably the result of trauma in utero. We see the same kind of thing in stroke victims."

A stroke in my baby. And the long term prognosis for speech was a little unsure. First of all she was delayed, second, her brain was adding sounds in words that made it next to impossible to understand her when she DID talk.

Word by word.
Excercise by exercise.
Specialist to specialist.
Fear to fear.
Prayer to prayer.

And now this.....

"Gabi, baby. Sing Mama that song about the stars."

"What one?"

"Angels and stars"

And then the most precious voice.

"On the first day of Kissmuss. Dere were stars up in the air. Stars up in the air. What a lovely SIGHT! WHAT A LOVELY SIGHT. On the first day of Kissmuss. Dere were ANGELS ev-eywhere, ANGELS ev-eywhere! What a LOVELY SIGHT! What a LOVELY SIGHT to see..."

What a lovely gift, Lord. What a wonderful gift.

12 Days....

2010-12-15T11:43:00.000-08:00

I made a Christmas Pledge this year. It involved many things, mostly keeping the main thing- the main thing. You know....remembering that JESUS is the reason for the season and those cliches that try to point our aching world back to its Creator, Sustainer, Savior. And I appreciate those reminders because retailers are speaking in an OUTSIDE voice in my living room, and sometimes even in my head, and the Holy Spirit, polite as He is, is only whispering to my heart.

But whisper He did this year and I pray to be faithful to proclaim in the light what He's whispered in the dark.

Give the gift of words.

That's it. That's what I heard, almost audibly and as I quickly sift through whether this was in fact the Holy Spirit or just self, I realize that I would gift much more extravagantly and spend us into debt trying to give a gift that could heal her heart, impossible. This must be the Holy Spirit and so I ask in a return whisper, "What, Lord, would you have me write?"

Give her 12 Days

Ahhhh, the 12 Days of Christmas. A gift for a hurting family given secretly, ding dong- ditch style for a dozen days leaving little gifts that tells the family that we are thinking of them. My Mom started this tradition when I was five and our neighbor was dying of brain cancer. We've done this for hurting people in several states and my sister and I to this day can rattle of a list of hilarious moments trying not to get caught.

12 Days of Words

He knows I don't have the money to be extravagant this year or I'd show up on her doorstep. Maybe we both have something to learn in the absence.

12 days of words. I pray they are just what He wants.

Dear Mom,

Its the first day of Christmas, and this year I'd give anything to leave a little something on your doorstep and run. Words tucked quietly into your inbox will have to do, and I pray that the Lord will pour out love over miles.

On the first day of Christmas...

One of the gifts I see in you, Mom, is the gift of hospitality. I'm not talking only about the selfless way your give of your home and your resources, but the spirit of hospitality that you carry about as you go through your days. Wherever you are.....for so many people, but especially for me, is home. It doesn't matter if you are in a grocery store, an airport, or a New York City street corner, the people around you are going to feel like they've known you for a lifetime....

2010-11-11T11:42:00.000-08:00

Veteran’s Day.

Today is a day to reflect, isn’t it? This country affords its citizens the right to both honor and dishonor whatever they wish with as much gusto as we choose. How many do that? And how did I get here, Lord, instead of somewhere else?
On these days when there are flags proudly posted every 20 feet in our small town, I am grateful for the freedom to drive where I wish without papers or permission. I have been to a country that denied its citizens and me that right that I take for granted.
On a sunny Monday in May, when my friends get together to kick off the opening of the sand dunes to off road vehicles and we say hello to summer, I remember those who gave their lives to protect mine.
Those sticky July 4th’s when I gather at the edge of our small, beautiful lake in the center of town and watch my kids dance to the band, and we stare collectively at the sky for the glimmers to come, I am grateful for founding fathers who wished they had more than one life to give for their country. Who says that anymore?
These chilly fall days when we hang out our flags and thank our parents, uncles, friends, and neighbors for their fight, I give my honor.
AND I want to choke the days that I see great dishonor to people who fight to protect us, hear stories of people sneering and spitting on heroes. I’ll just be honest. I prefer they didn’t have the right to bring ugly signs to funerals of brave soldiers. Or burn a flag that I pledge allegiance to.
I hate clichés. But I can’t stop help myself. I’m so dog gone grateful for the right to speak freely, worship openly, share without fear. And I pray with everything in me that God continues to protect this country. And that we will boldly be the launch pad for true freedom. The freedom that Christ gives to EVERY captive bound by chains, or threats, or pain, or just themselves.
Let freedom ring, Lord.
May I be the brave in the land that I love and hold out your truth to those you want freed.

When it hurts

2010-11-10T11:33:00.000-08:00

I can’t paint this time, this season, pretty.
With one phone call came a rush of emotions that left me, literally, heaving.
People you love aren’t supposed to leave.

“Love never quits.”

Especially when they are the ones who walked hand in hand with you along the most uneven paths. Through times that life didn’t make sense and my original family was broken apart. And I hated middle school and my first love went away. And I’m finally leaving home and do you think he’s the one for me. Those kinds of roads. He loved and he gave and he protected. And now he left her and I’m the one who fell apart.

“Love never fails.”

The man I’ve prayed would come to the Lord probably a thousand times. Cried and begged the Lord to gently and swiftly bring into His kingdom. Its not done yet, Lord.
“Love always hopes.”

Where do they write the book for grown up children who have children of their own whose families fall apart? Which aisle in Barnes and Nobel tells you how you are supposed to feel about your step parents, who have raised you as their own,don’t want to be a family anymore? I need that section.

“The Lord is near to the broken hearted.”

I know this is true. HE has been near to her. My mom's sustainer has breathed into her and filled her chest for three months. His Word in. Blowing life giving, death reviving, grief penetrating breath into her. And I marvel that the His promised peace would arrive just as He said it would.

“My peace I give you.”

This is the time when HIS WORDS matter more than mine. A season of unparalleled grief for me, the ripping off of scabs never properly healed. The days for feeling to be reconciled to truth.
“Never will I leave you or forsake you.”

“Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude…”
Maybe someday the Lord will give me the words to sing over the broken adult children. But only His Words bring the salve AND the healing.

“He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted.” Isa 61:1

Breathe Here

2010-10-11T18:02:00.000-07:00

These are the times of sheer back to school, new activities, and harvest business. No moments for sitting and pondering. No extra seconds for planning and studying. This is one load of laundry to the next, clothes in baskets, car tank always at a quarter full, dropping off, picking up, making lunches and dinner, nursing back to school bugs-kind of days.
I'm in over my head. B.U.S.Y.
I've been preparing lessons on the fly without the normal amount of book time to study up. All this forcing me to do some serious personal reflections with the Holy Writ. No time to see what MacArthur or Piper have to say. This has been a time of the Holy Spirit, my Bible and ME. And the steering wheel, or the emptying of a dishwasher, or even a thermometer stuck under an arm.

What are you trying to say to me, Lord? To them? Oh' how humbling to be the vessel.

Last night, after another day of packed activity and conversations that probed my very soul, I arrived home to one hour to clean the house and finish up my notes for the lesson for the high school girls headed to my house. I had just gotten done putting brownies in the oven and picking up the kitchen when the doorbell rang. 4 students. 40 minutes early. Have mercy. My notes were going to be left unfinished and I was going to have to bank on what the Holy Spirit had been whispering to me all week. Hopefully, it would be a concise relayal because there had been no shortage of material covered in my tutoring by the Enlightener.

Sheets on my front lawn, a perfect fall evening, and a group of girls who would smile and nod. I closed the door on our time together and breathed out. Relief. Message lived. Message delivered.

And you know what? I would speak those same words again. Given hours and hours more to prepare, I'm certain I would share the same stories and scriptures. He BREATHED in ME. And that is enough for me.

They left and I wondered if hope was to be had with them. Would they understand and connect? Will any of them want more of Him? More of our time together? And I realized again, I don't control any of that.

All I can do is cry out to the Lord and ask Him to BREATHE HERE. Blow that life giving breath through us. Through them. We did not take our first breath of life without Him giving it, we did not utter one repentant cry for salvation without His drawing in for us. Not one holy fire has fanned itself to flame. The Holy Spirit must blow.

And may He do so here. May He gather us in his hands, press us close to his mouth (close enough to hear) and blow. And for heaven's sake may I have the good sense to fan that aflame.
May we all.

Looking for every open window

2010-08-15T18:22:00.000-07:00

A couple of nights ago I was riding in the backseat with Gabi. I can't remember for the life of me how the conversation got started but out of what seemed like the clear blue, Gabi started to talk.

She said, "Mama, I prayed and I asked Jesus to come into my heart and be my Savwer."
Me: "You did? That is wonderful, honey!"
Gabi: "I said, "Thank you for dying on the cross to be my Savwer."
Me: "I'm so excited! Baby, you are right! Jesus died on the cross for your sins to be your Savior. "
Gabi: "Yea, I told him He could be in my heart but I still wanted to live with you, Mama."

*sigh* She's beginning to understand sin and her need for a Savior. I ask, some nights I beg, for all of my children's hearts to be HIS, for Christ to claim them as his own. For years now, I've asked every single day for my kids' salvation. This is a prayer that God wants to say yes to so I'm just watching for those little windows, like this one with Gabriella, to open. And it is moments like these, when I realize He is readying their hearts. I am most powerful on my knees.

I approach God's throne with confidence because of Christ's death for me. I plan to go in boldly again and again. Want to join me?

Overgrown

2010-08-13T04:28:00.000-07:00

It has been the perfect summer. Weather wise it has been consistently hot and humid for a long, long time. It has rained almost exactly when we needed it to and my farmer is in his glory. For heaven's sake, he had corn that was head high by the forth of July. And in our garden it was at least waist high. He's such a show off.

It just never ceases to amaze me how we can beg for a drop of rain some years, plead for it to quit in others, and be just near desperate every day for the Lord to show up in some way or another. It is amazing how dependent farmers are on the hand of God.

We'll just leave the element of two faith filled farmers on either sides of the highway praying for different things.....one for rain for the corn and the other for no rain that will split the cherries....yes, we better leave that alone, for now.

I'm certain He just wants us dependent. Like the Israelites and their manna. We just can't do anything to change the weather or make the corn grow. Anyway. The thought at hand. There just HAS to be a reason for talking this much, right?

The garden this year is glorious. We've had people marvel over and over again at how wonderful the garden looks this year. And it does. The tomato plants are as tall as I am. The raspberries have filled in their row and are laying up for a bumper crop next year. (Do you know how raspberries grow? Next year's fruit bearing shoots are already visible this year. That has to be a post in itself at some point.) The corn produced 17 quarts of frozen corn in just two short rows. With ears, I kid you not, as long as my forearm and some of them just as thick.

The problem with all this growth, and the pepper plants that have bushed out but have produced nada, is that stuff is just crawlin' all over each other. The zucchini is crowding out the squash and the pickles have taken over the tomatoes and are crowding the green beans. And for land's sake we found a PUMPKIN growing at the top of the tomato cage. THE TOP! Mixed in between those plump little dandies was a real deal pumpkin growing. The plants are just staging a coup and taking over whatever they feel like and they just don't seem to care if they are killing each other.

Reminds me of us. Just doing whatever it takes to rule over our own little kingdoms. Making the warts in myself a little less obvious by getting busy and spreading all over. Until one day, at a time when my guard is down, I open my mouth and come face to face with the real condition of my heart. Something slips out of my mouth that I hardly recognize. A choice morsel to a person who shouldn't hear. An unkind word to Mike or my kids. A white lie that didn't even need to be there. A pumpkin, FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE, at the top of the tomato cage.

I was tempted to leave that pumpkin there just to figure out how big that thing would get and what it would do to the tomatoes! But my farmer did exactly what we all should do, just cull that sucker. Get real mean and pull that thing off. Unwind the tangling vine that is threatening to topple and choke the tomato plant. Draw some hard lines and make some swift cuts to protect and rid us of compromise.

Yes, that's exactly what needs to be done with that kind of overgrowth. Draw real firm boundaries and just let that pumpkin plant know who is boss.

And then came Ryan..

2010-08-06T11:12:00.000-07:00

I'd like to *really late* introduce the youngest member of our tribe. The one who was born a month after Mike's knee surgery and four and a half months from this moment. To say that I am behind in posting about life's events would render the same I'm so behind circle I've spun before. So, let's just not delay game any longer.
This precious little bundle is Ryan Michael. He entered the world on a Sunday afternoon following the most intense hour of labor and delivery I have had. I would have rather been sawed in two then push for a second longer. He was a whoppin' seven pounds, fourteen ounces and came out twisting his Mama's heart around his finger.

He had me at hello. Or whatever it was that he breathed out in that first moment.

Have I mentioned how desperate I was for another little boy to love? There is just something about little boys who come in sweaty at their temples, hair ruffed up, smelling of sunshine, dirt and sweat, that makes me melt. Don't get me started about the days they smell like sunblock, beach and tired boy...I'm already tearing up. Another boy. God is good.
Ryan found two adoring parents, one extremely proud big brother, an older sister who is the best second Mama I could ask for, and one little older sister who would love to poke his eyes out, I'm sure, all ecstatic about his arrival.

The first evening went off without a hitch. He breastfed well, slept like a champ, and seemed to know that God had placed him in an experienced home. The next morning I showered, blew out my hair, put on makeup, and saw my toes for the first time in months. I was flying high and waiting to go home, hopefully that day, with my baby.

Seven AM- I had Ryan between my legs on the bed and was just finishing changing his diaper and snapping him up. He started to spit up a little and I said, "Oh' dear, you are spitting up, aren't you?" I turned his body to the side while I grabbed a little cloth and when I looked back at him I saw a mouth full of goop. Thick mucous. I swiped with my finger and kept him on his side for a moment. He wasn't clearing it. He wasn't breathing. I flipped him over and started patting his back while he struggled in my hands. Fighting for a breath. Both of us desperate.

"HE'S NOT BREATHING", I shouted to Mike about ten seconds later. Mike, my precious man who had just had knee surgery and spent a month and a half on the couch, took off running for the nursery.

Ryan turned blue and then he turned gray and went limp in my hands.

I screamed with everything in me, "HELP US! PLEASE, HELP US!" Screaming and crying and patting. Good GOD, DO SOMETHING. Please help me, Lord Jesus.

I heard them call a code for our room. Code blue, I think. Several times. In flew a nurse who grabbed Ryan from my hands. She yelled at me, "Just give me the baby!" And then she left as quickly as she came. And I sat there. Trembling and sobbing. While close to thirty other people descended on my room, nurses and doctors. Then all but four of them headed to the nursery to help with Ryan. The other four sat with me, trying to help put me back together. But how exactly do you put someone whose child stopped breathing back together at a moment like that.

They couldn't. Truth is I wouldn't be put back together for over a month.

Several minutes later one of the nurses holding my hand and watching me breathe got a call letting us know that Ryan was breathing again. Mike was with him in the nursery. It would be almost ten more minutes till I could convince them I was okay enough to go see him.

Trembling, they walked me down to the nursery. Makeup I had so care freely applied this morning now streamed off my face. I couldn't care less. The child I had known for only 12 hours lay ahead of me in a nursery surrounded by a team of people bent on helping him breathe again.

They said it was just thick mucous out of his lungs. But they needed to keep him there for a while. I could touch him and kiss him and then I needed to let them do some blood tests and monitor him. They kept him there for only three hours and returned him to us on a monitor that made sure he kept breathing. But from that moment, for a month of moments, I would not rest or tire of making sure he was breathing. Ryan turning gray and stopping breathing was all I could think about. He would choke and sputter up thick mucous for another 24 hours. I was terrified.

My very best friends would come and love on us all and try to remind me that life would be normal and we would all be okay. And you know what? I would try to gather strength from those words, things would be okay. But in the back of my mind, I knew that God might take Ryan from me. My Everything might demand my child. Could I survive such a thing?

Holding Ryan, loving him, nursing him, rocking him, I just clung to every moment in fear of what might be required of us. I found myself pleading with the Lord to please just let me have this baby.

It would only be a few hours till the Holy Spirit would reveal a truth now seared inside me. God is Ryan's sustainer just as He is mine. Ryan's days are numbered by the Lord, just as mine are and I will not be able to add one day to either of our sums. I must trust and walk forward in the grace given for this day.

Ryan came home just a half day later than originally planned. I would watch him inhale and exhale for weeks, but now as I type I hear him screaming his sweet lungs out letting me know my time to journal is drawing closed. Screaming. A sound that still makes my heart glad. Who would have thought?

Purposeful Thinking

2010-02-04T18:34:00.000-08:00

Have I mentioned patience isn't my forte?

If I have something to tell Mike, I want to tell him RIGHT now. And if I know that I should wait for an hour till he gets home and not bother him at work, then I could very well HAVE to remind myself to be patient every five minutes. Literally. Every five minutes. I need a literal, mental reboot.

I feel ashamed to admit this and actually somewhat pleased simultaneously. What I am busy doing while I fight myself, is taking thoughts captive and making them obedient. It is absolutely vital that I learn to be obedient in the quiet.

So when I tell you that I'm asking God for the ability to respond lovingly when I'm feeling impatient, you can now imagine the battle. Again and again. Desperate for God to show up in me and through me.

Nope, not talking about Mike, who is currently sitting beside me enjoying a last snack before he must begin his fast for surgery. A bagel and some crackers. Not exactly the last snack I'd choose. I'd be doggedly pursuing the bottom of the bag of conversation hearts. You know. To each his own.

More tomorrow.
Lee

A Puritan Prayer

2010-02-03T10:34:00.000-08:00

I'm sensing that God has a message for me this year.
"IT IS NOT ALL ABOUT LEE."
This is a great prayer our pastor shared last year from Kay Warren's book "Dangerous Surrender." I'm mulling these words and trying to make them my own.

The Covenant Prayer

I am no longer my own, but yours.
Put me to what you will, rank me with whom you will;
put me to doing, put me to suffering;
let me be employed for you or laid aside for you,
exalted for you or brought low for you;
let me be full, let me be empty;
let me have all things, let me have nothing.
I freely and heartily yield all things to your pleasure and disposal.
And now, a glorious and blessed God, Gather; Son and Holy Spirit,
you are mine and I am yours. So be it.
And the covenant which I have made on earth,
let is be ratified in heaven.
Amen.

Seventy Years

2010-02-02T18:16:00.000-08:00

Last weekend I was in Texas visiting my family for my Dad's 70th birthday.
From the moment I got off the airplane (solo-Thank you so much to my mom in law-Karen and Mike for holding down the fort) it was a whirlwind of activity and surprises.
One of the things on the agenda was a portrait with my siblings. :)
From the top, Me (preggo), Lisa, and Casey, and on the bottom on the left Tommy and Gary.
It was the first time we had been all together in over 15 years. WOW.

I wish I could put into words how much God taught me on this trip to visit my family. But right now, words just fail me. I realized that God is working MUCH MORE in each of our lives, in separate places, occupations, even states and stages of life-than I have given Him credit for.

I am not the authority of what growth should look like in my family members lives.

If I were, I would be a biased judge of character and a short sighted planner of things to come. And what I need to say is that I am banking on God. He is so good, He loves my family and He is working in all of us.

Just Make It Quick.

2010-02-01T18:27:00.000-08:00

Football in the snow-Broken Nose
Basketball with Middle Schoolers-Broken Nose
Dodge Ball with Boy's Club-Torn ACL

I hearby declare youth ministry dangerous to my husband's health. But if you spread those out over the 11 years we've gotten to work with students of all ages, it figures into only one major injury every 3.5 years. *wink*

In the beginning of January, Mike hurt his right knee playing Dodgeball. It has taken a few weeks to sort through what happened (MRI) and get into the right doctor. So, here we stand at the cusp of a knee surgery that will bench Mike for a month and then healing time and some physical therapy.

That surgery will be Friday morning.

Another opportunity to trust. Remember yesterday? Standing on the edge and knowing that I can't, but God IN ME-CAN DO ANYTHING.

Yea. Believing that, again today. We'd covet prayers for Mike's healing and a sucessful surgery.

We are afraid its not in us....

2010-01-31T19:14:00.000-08:00

This morning in my Sunday School we embarked on another lesson about the fear of man. A woman in our class pointed out that as the Israelites stood on the edge of the promise land and sent in their spies, they were not unlike us. You see, they received scary reports about the giants in the land and they could not imagine (although God promised) that they COULD, nay WOULD, see these fortified cities destroyed through them, by the hand of God.
She said, "WE know ourselves too well. WE know that kind of victory is not in us."

And I think she is right in some ways. We stand on the edge of that land and KNOW our shortcomings. We can't imagine that God could do something so brave, so magnificent, so memorable through us. Sure we know HE can do anything HE wants to do. He could slay those giants while we wait on the edge of the land.

BUT

I could not have imagined or dreamed of this life I now live fifteen years ago. I would have been right to stand trembling on the edge of the promise land. I knew it wasn't in me. I was already conquered, I'd already been defeated.

BUT NOW....

"Greater is He who is in me."

I can not say the same thing now. I can't begin to imagine what God can accomplish through me and I stand on the edge of my promise land. I know it is my God who fought for me and now it is God who will fight through me. IT is not in me. BUT HE is.

To stand on the edge of the next battle and worry about if I have what it takes is putting the em-PHA-sis on the wrong syllable. Greater is He who is in me, than me alone. Greater is He who is in me; HE who CAN and WILL use me. Greater is He who is in me, than any giant, anywhere.

Bring on the promise land.

On purpose

2010-01-28T11:02:00.000-08:00

I have been hearing only quiet whispers from the Lord recently. Times like these drive me crazy. I much prefer hearing Him speak through the megaphone of His word, a near shout as I reflect in solitude, a tugging during a time of worship, or even with a 2x4 via a sermon. But for heaven's sake, don't whisper to me.

I'm scared I'll miss your voice, Lord. I fear nothing more than You not speaking. It is so easy to be distracted. Pregnancy, schooling, kids, events, housekeeping, trips, worries. They lay hold of me and captivate my attention.

So, I'll act on what I hear as I push aside distraction and fight to put things in their proper order.

LIVE PURPOSEFULLY.

You are whispering to my heart that I need to change some things. Sure up some things I've allowed to slip. Regain focus. Rethink the whys of what I'm doing. Be certain to not allow business to dictate my attitude and actions.

PURPOSEFULLY follow Christ. Resolving to go to bed earlier so I CAN get up earlier to be with YOU.
PURPOSEFULLY serve, love, nurture, support Mike.
PURPOSEFULLY parent. Motherhood is not a game. There are no moments off duty. No words without weight. EVERY MOMENT MATTERS.
PURPOSEFULLY pursue relationships you give me. Disciple consistently. Watch my tongue. Look for ways to encourage.

I hear You.
I'm sitting still purposefully to hear You.

Helping Haiti

2010-01-17T14:38:00.000-08:00

Watching the news right now leaves me with this sinking feeling. I reel as I mull over tragedy that I can't begin to process. My thirty year old eyes have beheld devastation that I scarcely knew existed in the past and surely could not occur at the dawn of a new decade. Bodies being transported by loader and dump truck, wrapped in sheets and anonymously pit buried outside a city in ruins. That which is too graphic for television now broadcast for the world to see during prime time. They can't edit out or sterilize the story. It. is. that. bad.

And as I have wondered as I stood outside an orphanage in Kostrama, Russia, or as I beheld the immense poverty of Guatemala, I wonder again, how my "safe God", the one I adore, has let this disaster through His Hand.

Just typing those words feels like a violation of relationship.

Dare I question the One who holds the stars.

Something I am learning in the midst of processing something I can't comprehend, is that my God is not sitting by. He is working actively, saving, drawing, comforting, calling a people to Himself. He is busy moving a complacent people (a complacent me?) off the couch to love my neighbor. Serve. Give. And more than anything, pray.

We've chosen one place to give to broken Haiti so far. Orphans and their plight, our adoption, and God's heart for the fatherless, leave us haunted by the increase this tragedy will leave. Our prayer is that God will meet the needs of the Haitian orphans through us and that red tape will be cut to bring children to homes that will love them and raise them to know the Lover of the their souls.

To learn more about The Global Orphan Project click http://theglobalorphanproject.org/

And to my precious Maker, I trust you with their lives and mine.

Journal Entry- January 15, 2010

2010-01-17T14:22:00.000-08:00

Journal Entry- 5 Sentences about what you've seen on the news about the earthquake in Haiti.

1. We saw Haiti after a earthquake.
2. We saw a baby with a head igry. (injury).
3. We saw a woman with a brockein leg. (broken).
4. We saw a gril trapt in a hole. (trapped in a hole).
5. I am sad for the people of Haiti.

Me, too, Brendan, me too.

Resolved to make every moment count. Whether at playtime, school time, family time, or church time. For the Glory of God.

Christmas 2009

2010-01-06T08:24:00.001-08:00

Well, suffice it to say, it has been a busy 6 months. Starting off (again), Christmas was incredible this year. We spent Thanksgiving with my Dad and stepmom in Texas and enjoyed seeing my little sister and her family for the first time in over a year. It was a wonderful time and the only draw back to all the travel was a pregnant me riding in the car with a terrible cold. All the kids traveled like the little pros they are and we headed home after ten days of relaxation.

Brendan threw up in the hotel about ten hours from home, and the story of the sickness begins. We thought Brendan was a little under the weather as he slept and ate very little on the trip home. Actually, that was the beginning of 8 days of fever, chills, cough, and then a full blown resperatory saga. Seasonal flu-meet the family. One by one we dropped like flies. Suffering for approximately 8 days of full blown on the couch recovery. No eating out, no church activities, and no school for Gabi. Brendan was less than thrilled that he was continuing schooling most of that time. :) The joy of homeschooling.

We filled that time with Advent activities. Enjoying quiet evenings at home, reading our Bible to follow some of the Advent readings from Countdown to Christmas. The highlights of their days were coloring these ornaments and, well, bath time.

Staying at home forced me to slow down and be a little more intentional about our time. Mike and I purposed that the kids would understand Christmas this year. I think, all in all, Mike and I probably benefited the most from this snow and sick bound time. We savored our Lord's coming to earth, spent time on the details of our promised Messiah and revelled with our kids in God's foresight.

And the wheels are falling off....!

2009-07-09T11:03:00.001-07:00

Okay, so here's the problem. This little pumpkin (who is not Lexie Beth, just looks like her) is SIX today. SIX, PEOPLE! My precious, adorable, Bubbsy is SIX years old.

The thing is that I gave birth to him, yesterday. I'm sure of it. This tiny 6lb. 6oz., little smidge who took a whopping 18 hours to deliver, and was terribly jaundice, couldn't possibly be riding bikes and swimming now.

Or, think again.

Training wheels are off folks and just last night Brendan was zooming down the hills in the back yard at absolute full tilt, smiling all the way. He had not an ounce of fear in the process.

While my heart can't seem to recover from the shock, I am grateful to the Lord for every minute with Brendan. Mike and I are better Christ followers because we've been allowed to parent, know, and love this boy, our son.

Brendan, today you are six. You love Jesus with your whole heart and are not afraid to tell others about him. You are suprisingly articulate and unbelievably smart. You are dearly loved by all of your grandparents and the best friend Gabriella could ever have. You fight for her and take care of her and Lexie. I'm so proud. You love toast with peanut butter AND jelly and sometimes pound out three whole slices in the morning! You crack up at Tom and Jerry, and enjoy country music. You love history and learning about countries, presidents, and flags. Your favorite person in the world is your Dad, although you have a tender spot for your Mama, too. Thank you for loving me, Brendan. Thank you for being obedient. I pray that you will love Jesus EVERY single day for the rest of your life. I pray you continue to develop a fervor for God's word that will not be taken from you. Grow humbly. Every. Day.

I treasure you,

Mom

Its the first again

2009-07-01T12:24:00.000-07:00

You see what I have to work with.....It is impossible to get these goons to look the same direction.

Don't even get me started about having them clean at the same time.

First and Fifteenth club is still under way. Beth Moore, who I adore and who seems to have as many deep rooted weeds in her past as I do mine, is an incredible Bible teacher and has been the catalyst of some monumental growth in my life in the last few years. She challenged her blog readers to memorize a new scripture verse on the first and fifteenth of every month. I love it and I'm casting aside the notion that I can't remember references and I'm running for the finish line. TWENTY FOUR VERSES in one year.

My first of July verse has everything to do with FREEDOM! The battle cry of my life in Christ, the reason my Savior died, my own personal fourth of July celebration.

"It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by the yoke of slavery."

Galatians 5:1 (NIV)

Christ set me free from the chain of death. I will stand firm in that freedom and have asked the Holy Spirit today and everyday, to point out any area of my life where I am giving an inch back to the enemy. No turning back, NO. NO. NO. NO! No turning back.

The Power of a Year

2009-06-29T18:00:00.000-07:00

Is this beautiful little girl REALLY the tiny, chubby cheeked little baby they handed me in the Westin Lobby four years ago?

Its been a quick year, I tell ya. So very, many changes have happened in Gabriella this year and as we are now almost a month past her fourth birthday, it is high time we look back over God's miracles.

Gabriella has a rip roaring year, from barely putting two words together to full sentences. A year ago we interpreted EVERY thing she said to someone else and that was IF she was willing to converse. Fast forward to her second MRI in December, a snowy and scary ride to the Children's Hospital, and another confirmation from a specialist. Gabriella's speech and language issues were a result of something greater than typical childhood lag. But this appointment helped us resolve in our minds to help her rehab quickly and to make up ground lost. January brought a brand new therapist into our lives and a trip to a nationally recognized and method published Apraxia specialist in Detroit. Mike and I both mark this as the turning point in our year.

This specialist gave us HOPE and a new way to communicate with Gabriella. We needed to begin building pathways in her brain for spontaneous speech. Ask better questions and give her answers to say in response.....etc.....To make a long story short, God allowed our prayers and begging for answers and direction to finally make visible headway. Glory to Him who is able.

That brings us to her 4th birthday.

Gabi is talking and conversing intelligibly with everyone. She has the SWEETEST spirit and compassion for others that moves my heart. She is protective and tender with her siblings. She likes hot cocoa. Every morning. She wants her music on and her door open at night. She likes a stuffed tabby cat named "Pretty Kitty" best. Gabi likes tomatoes and princess fruit snacks. She can ride a bike with training wheels and can point out Africa and Guatemala on a map. She knows the story of Jesus and is developing more and more curiosity about the things of God. (May He claim her as His soon.)

In short, she is absolutely a gift from God. She touches my heart in a way that I can not seem to put into words. I would not love her more had she sprung from my womb. Gabriella, your stubborn spirit is a gift from God. He created you to stand strong and fight. May you do that for His kingdom all your days. You are a blessing I will never stop counting and thanking God for.....Grow strong in Jesus, Baby. Mama loves you.

Overheard

2009-06-28T19:16:00.001-07:00

This evening we spent some time weeding and rototilling in the garden. Mike and I went waterskiing last night and we are both a little sore, so any bending over or major rotation gives pause for consideration. Anyhow, I was picking the strawberries and doing my best to remove the crab grass population from the row and I overheard Brendan and Lexie Beth talking.

Lexie- "Bair-wee, peees."

Brendan-"Here ya go, Lex."

Lexie-"Num. More Bair-wee, peees."

Brendan-"Well, Lexie. I don't have a MAGIC WAND, but I can give you another berry."

I laughed out loud. What a hoot!

Hello...again...hello.

2009-06-28T14:05:00.000-07:00

A la Neil Diamond.

When I was in Middle School and High School I loved to journal. I'd write faithfully for a week or two and then miss a few days. They were always really busy days, or I would have written in the first place. So, being the recorder I was, I felt a desperate need to catch my "Dear Diary" up with all the latest and greatest happenings. In fact, so great was my desire to record life's great daily happenings that I would feel guilty for not writing and that would actually keep me from starting the next entry at all. Somewhere around my senior year of high school (shortly after I'd given my life to Christ) I started journaling. Not as a way to record life's daily events-though surely I do that too, but rather I began writing to my Heavenly Father as a prayer. Not with "thee's or thou's or even bless so and so's or even me, rather I just began to assume (rightly) that He had been with me through the day, no need to recount the day unless I wanted to talk to Him about parts of it.

This change was wonderful for me.

Another great step in this journey happened at Moody. I became fascinated with a guy on my brother floor (Mike's floor) named Brad. Brad was a writer, actually now he's a chaplain, but that's neither here nor there. I watched him write during chapel from nearly start to finish. He couldn't possibly be taking notes because sometimes he'd write through the worship. He didn't seem disconnected from the world like some wierdo as he was just as personable as the next. He just seemed to enjoy this little book he carried from here to there.

To make a long story shorter, Brad and I sat next to each other on occasion and I asked him to explain to me the method to his writing madness. I can remember two or things he said to me that day, but the one that is pertinent to today was that I should feel no OBLIGATION to my journal. If I made it there that day to write, GREAT! But if my heart wasn't connecting with the pen and paper before me, then to move on. I didn't need to catch up my journal with all the great events, I could just enjoy recounting right where I was. This obviously is true of writing to my Father. I don't need to catch Him up as if He wasn't right there with me, He was and is a part of every breath.

So, just like my journal. Let's start from today. Its been a busy few months, I'll try to catch you up as we go, but let's enjoy the journey from here,

Dear Friend.

First and Fifteen- Verse 10

2009-05-01T07:15:00.000-07:00

Here we go again. This was Beth Moore's verse this time. Interesting timing and it seems straight from the Lord and I'm claiming it as my own.

Though you have not seen Him, you love Him; and even though you do not see Him now, you believe in Him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy. 1 Peter 1:8 NIV

One of my all time favorite verses is Hebrews 11:1.
"Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see."

Sometimes I ask myself if I'm sure. Am I sure of what I hope for. And after a few seconds of pondering my soul shouts back with a resounding, "Yes. I love him, so. I'm so changed and it couldn't possibly have been me doing the changing. So many times, he's worked with me, through me, in me. So many times all there is left is the knowledge that he loves me." I'm ready to give an answer today for the HOPE that is within me.
The living, risen, powerful King Jesus Christ inside me, a relationship with the lover of my soul.

Its raining today.

2009-04-30T11:17:00.000-07:00

Its raining here today, and the deluge could not feel more appropriate. While the earth receives what the Father has decided it needs, our hearts are heavy and our cheeks are continually wet.

Last Saturday we lost a dear friend and mentor, Dr. Dan Hasty.
I've never written a tribute and I'm certain I'm not even in the top 100 people experiencing grief because of Doc's home going. But it would be an injustice to not build a memorial, if nowhere but here and in my heart, to a man who has deeply touched 4 out of 5 of my family members.
Doc entered paradise on Saturday morning and as sure as the rain falls today, our friend hugged our Lord Jesus immediately. Doc taught many adult classes, but shortly after Mike and I moved here, we joined the Spiritual Gifts class that Doc was so famous for. We spent over ten weeks learning and absorbing all Doc taught us about the importance of the gifting of the Holy Spirit, the unity and strength of the body of Christ working together, and evaluating and processing through our spiritual gifts.
(Both Mike and I are Pastor/Shepard first, depart for our secondary gifts, and then scored together with teaching as our third. I remember Doc laughing with us about the irony of having a husband and wife with the same spiritual gift. I can't thank the Lord enough for the opportunity to have studied under Doc. I will thank him again when I see him because putting my finger on something I'd wrestled with has opened such incredible doors in my life and my heart.)

Dr. Hasty also spend a gazillion years leading our Cubbies program. Bless his heart, some days he must have come straight from his dental practice to our kids. Never one to miss a teachable moment, Doc has taught literally 1oo's of kids about the word of God. But my gratefulness will stem especially from his love, care and teaching of Brendan and Gabriella. Doc praised Brendan's enthusiasm for God's word and triggered great home conversations. Bubbs was forever asking, "When I sing 'Peter, James and John in a sailboat', Dr. Hasty asks if Jesus got sand in the nail marks in his hands. What do you think, Mom?" and other great ponderings.

As a matter of fact, one of my favorite memories with Doc was when I took Bubbs to his dental office for his preschool dental check up. Brendan (literally) flipped his lid. Wouldn't sit in the chair; wouldn't let Doc anywhere near him. Threats were to no avail---adoration had ended and he was just not sitting in Doc's chair. So, that weekend in the hall of church Doc told Brendan to open his mouth and Brendan let him peek around in his mouth and told me to just bring my paper by the office. Bubbs' teeth looked great. :) What a guy.

And Gabi. Well, let's just say that Doc set her in his lap and helped her obey on more than a couple occasions, or so I've been told. He was always teaching and was ALWAYS adored.

I've had 4 or 5 recent conversations with Doc that have blessed my heart. Words of affirmation and encouragement...and somehow, when they came from him, they just held more weight.

And now, what's left to say except that my heart is broken for my sweet friends who lost a husband and father. Our prayers for them are endless these days. Never far from our minds.

But heaven gained a true Christ follower. I take much comfort in knowing that this great teacher has finally met THE GREAT TEACHER and has never been more joyful, I"m sure. Jesus wrapped up in his saving arms one of his beloved, and how much sweeter the reunion will be for me when the Lord calls me home to see Doc there as well.

Fifteen already??

2009-04-15T11:42:00.000-07:00

Verse number 9!!

Oh' how I need this prayer. Every single bit. Every word. For myself. And how I need to pray this over others.

I have had a couple absolutely mind boggling things happen recently and stood clueless on how to respond. Just a couple hours ago I asked Karen (my MIL) how I should respond and she said, "Ask the Lord for wisdom, Lee. He promises to give us wisdom when we ask."

First and Fifteen verse #9

Philippians 1:9-11
"And this is my prayer: that your love may abound more and more in knowledge and depth of insight so that you may be able to discern what is best and may be pure and blameless until the day of Christ, filled with the fruit of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ-to the glory and praise of God."

Please Lord,
May my love abound more and more in knowledge and depth of insight. Please help me to discern what is best through the prompting of the Holy Sirit. May I respond purely and blamelessly as a representative of Christ. I want to be filled with the fruit (the works) of righteousness that is even possible through the work of Christ, not just the knowledge, but the action, too. Thereby bringing glory and praise to you you, Father. I love you, Amen.

New Verse

2009-04-02T05:46:00.000-07:00

First and Fifteen club check in moment.

"Turn my heart toward your statutes and not toward selfish gain. Turn my eyes away from worthless things, preserve my life according to your word." Psalm 119:36-37.

I'm not even sure I can make comments that don't leave me feeling overly vulnerable. I do not want my heart turned to pride or the strokes or shuns of man (women). I want my heart turned squarely to God's word and His work in me. That God is at work in me is more flattering than anything ANYONE could ever say or do....oh' that He finds me a worthy project for his refining (albeit sometimes painful) work.

I must turn my eyes from worthless things-over and over again. I must choose to watch, listen and participate in only worthwhile things. This is REALLY difficult right now because it may be choosing to turn my eyes from something that is good, but not best. I waste a great deal of time on worthless things when I can preserve my life (and in some ways the lives of others) by studying, reading, worshipping, praying....

Preserve. Not necessarily extend in number of days, but certainly capture freshness, protect, and save for a certain period of time. The days God affords.

I'm at a loss for words so I'm just going to go make my kids breakfast. That will help preserve them. :)

The heart of the matter

2009-03-19T19:01:00.000-07:00

First and Fifteen Club a few days late....

"If anyone speaks, he should do it as one speaking the very words of God. If anyone serves, he should do it with the strength God provides, so that in all things God may be praised through Jesus Christ. To Him be the glory and the power for ever and ever. Amen." 1 Peter 4:11

It is AMAZING how the Lord seems to beat a certain cadence in our lives at certain times. Recently, I've been feeling the weight of my words. I realize that words have the power to heal or destroy, to draw close or push away, to mark or to praise. What I say is extremely important and my words can be life giving, if I speak words of truth in love. And not just what I say, as in Lee (cause honestly--who am I anyway?), but everyone has this life giving-or taking ability.

So that's where this verse puts the beat in the cadence..... "as one speaks the very words of God." My words should be careful spoken, for heaven's sake, because they should be as if God were saying them!!! AGH!!! What an incredible CHALLENGE! I need to be serving in the strength God provides.......no wonder certain things have been draining and others fulfilling..... And in the the end it is for his glory and through his power and that's it.
Less of me. None of me.
I pray that everyday, I would disappear a little more and Christ Jesus would be a little more evident. More of you Lord Jesus, more of you.

Calgon....take me away

2009-03-11T08:34:00.000-07:00

Whatever crud lurked, frozen in the snow, showed its ugly face as the Spring thaw began. Brendan, Lexie and Mike have all suffered (and survived) this Bronchitis and Strep Throat bug that seems to be plaguing all my local friends' homes. And now....I'm nearly down for the count. I went all day yesterday fever free and then today I'm back to running a low grade and feeling downright puny.
And while I'm down for the count and the kids are ODing on PBS and videos, I've rested and worked on my Beth Moore, "Jesus the One and Only" Bible study.
This week, I'm reminded, again, that Jesus TOUCHED those he healed. AGAIN and AGAIN and AGAIN he touched those with diseases that make you not only unclean, but diseases that could literally kill those who came in contact with them. Dr. Luke notes this touching reality several times in his gospel and you can almost hear the undertone of his words.....He didn't use gloves.

"While Jesus was in one of the towns, a man came along who was covered with leprosy. When he saw Jesus, he fell with his face to the ground and begged him, "Lord, if you are willing, you can make me clean." Jesus REACHED OUT HIS HAND AND TOUCHED THE MAN. 'I AM willing," he said. "Be clean!"

Luke 5:12-13 (emphasis mine.)

In a Lysol and antibacterial world, I am amazed at the God man who reaches out and touches because of his deep well of compassion and love. A God man who heals out of his powerful and yet, humble deity. What a wonderful merciful Savior, my Lord Jesus is! Touch me, Lord and change me. (I sure wouldn't mind if this could happen in real time, Lord. My throat is awfully sore). I don't want to go back to the idea that Christ stood at a distance saying, "tsk.tsk." I have a hands on Savior who has the power to change with merely his mouth, but is so moved that he touches.

My soul overflows.

A man of prayer

2009-03-06T13:02:00.000-08:00

One of the reasons my HUSBAND ROCKS is because he is a man who believes in the power of prayer.

Prayer is one of the most incredible resources we have as a couple. Joint access to the creator and lover of our souls, has only fanned our marriage into a flame. Mike asked me, over 4 years ago now, to pray with him every night before we went to bed. Save about 20 nights total, we have approached our Lord's throne with our praises, our requests, our hurts, and yes, even some of our fights. It is an incredible blessing to know that Mike and I may scrap, but at the end of the day, we will hold hands and ask the Lord for his forgiveness and blessing. What an incredible man I have.

This is a picture of Mike praying over Bubbs last summer on his birthday. Five years old and still wrapped up in his Daddy's arms and brought before our Lord. Every child. Every Birthday. And can I just tell you there is just something about a grown man humbling himself and asking the Lord's help in raising a boy to become a man of deep faith and commitment, that makes you love him even more.

JUST another reason why MIKE ROCKS.

Scripture Memory- A padlocked door

2009-03-02T06:37:00.000-08:00

The key to this castle is in that little blue box.

I've been feeling a great burden on my heart for quite some time to begin memorizing scripture and their references. That book has endless treasures for me only shackled until I open its pages and allow the spirit to penetrate my soul. I know that the WORD in me can keep me from stumbling, or just down right sitting down in a heap and feeling hopeless and afraid. So, this past summer the kids and I memorized Psalm 23. Brendan and I made up a few signs that reminded us of certain phrases and together we learned it over about two weeks. It was so refreshing to commit something to memory and have success! He was memorizing with me and I was teaching it to him so it became something fun to do together and not a chore. It was ACTIVE and alive, just like God's word. Even Gabriella got in on the action and began to learn just through the passivity of being around it.

Fast forward to a challenge from Beth Moore on her blog to memorize two scriptures a month for the entire year of 2009. The first and fifteenth club. I knew that Cubbie and Sparky verses weren't cutting it around here, and that I needed to be memorizing verses that I needed.

So, the journey began.

January 1- Isaiah 33:6- "He is the firm foundation for your times, a rich store of salvation and wisdom and knowledge, the fear of the Lord is the key to this treasure."

Praise Him. Praise Him for being the firm foundation for my times. This verse has popped up literally DOZENS of times in the last two months, as I have been teaching of and on in the ladies Sunday School at church. What are we studying? Isaiah. Amazing.

January 15-Verse two

Joshua 1:9- "Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified, do not be discouraged. For the Lord your God will be with you where ever you go."

As the month unfolded, so did a trip to Arkansas to visit my mom. She told me she'd been memorizing some scripture and shared it with me. I told her about the First and Fifteenth club and she wanted to memorize along with ME. So, in those five days she committed the first two verses to memory. I can't begin to explain the cement that is between the two of us, that while we were already tight, now we are just glued together. These are OUR verses and they have all been the right ones.

February 1- Psalm 62:1-2

"My soul finds rest in God alone, my salvation comes from Him. He alone is my rock and my salvation, he is my fortress, I will not be shaken."

Talk about a balm to my soul. He is my fortress. I am the princess in the castle. The castle of God. I will not be shaken.

February 15- 1 Timothy 6:6 "But godliness with contentment is great gain."

AND 1 Timothy 6:11-12 "But you (wo)man of God, flee from all this, and pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, love, endurance and gentleness. Fight the good fight of the faith."

For whatever reason, this last one has been harder for me to commit to memory. I NEED it, but the recall has been more difficult. But now it is locked in there and ready for recall.

And now, March 1- Ephesians 4:29-"Do not let ANY unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to THEIR needs, that it may benefit those who listen."

This one is familiar to me, but it is time I lay it down in cement with its reference for once and for all.

God is doing a new work within me and I'm growing again. I praise God for the wonder of his LIVING and BREATHING scripture that can transform even a wretch like me.

Want to come along? First and Fifteen? Need one of mine-they are completely free for the taking.

We were dancing in the moonlight....

2009-03-01T19:37:00.000-08:00

No. Not really. I was dancing in fluorescent lights, actually. LexieBeth spiked a fever last night of 104 degrees, and she was doped up on IBP so we decided we should probably take her in. Normally, in Colorado, you'd just zip down to the local Emergi-care, but here in the sticks, you have to zip to the local ER.

They took her temperature and ran an RSV test, as that was their first hunch. She endured a chest xray, pokes and prods, and you know when you have a fever that high even your eyelashes hurt. So, we danced in our room and I got to love on my "not normally cuddly" baby girl. The xrays showed some inflammation in her chest but no pneumonia and the RSV test came back clear. Praise the Lord. They gave her a shot of Rosephin and we were able to head home. She's been pretty punky most of the day, but tonight, while I was at youth group, Mike and the kids watched a dozen deer frolic on the hill by our house. It was Annie Oakley, no, Lexie Beth who grabbed the toy gun (from the snoopy golf bag that Brendan calls his "case") and shot at the deer.
Whose child is that? What in the world? The irony of it all. :)

Wild Animal(s)

2009-02-27T18:16:00.000-08:00

No, not Lexie Beth.

Just a few minutes ago, I was sitting in our study working on my Sunday School lesson. Mike was asking Jeeves what the star that is shining SO brightly tonight, right next to the moon was.....(VENUS). Have you looked outside tonight? The view is A-MAZING!
Anyway....
All of the sudden, I heard yelping and some SERIOUS scrapping out front. Windows are all shut tight, heat is running, and it sounds like somebody is fighting in the living room. Mike raced for the door, to check outside, and declared...."COYOTES!" They were barking/howling/yelping up a storm!
It was really cool, so we drug Brendan out of bed to let him hear, he was less than enthused. Especially when we had to open the front door and freeze him.
Okay, back to your regularly scheduled program.

THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT

2009-02-27T13:25:00.000-08:00

One of my favorite adoption blogs, Spirit of Adoption, wrote a post (linking her husband's blog which is also WONDERFUL) about this issue. The tax credit many of us have received towards adoption expenses is set to expire this year.
I want you to know that NO ONE adopts to receive this tax credit. This is only a credit for money spent during the process. You spend $300...you get a $300 credit, you spend over $30,000-*ahem*, you still only get $12,000. Actually, 3 years ago the credit was $10,000 so that's the number we worked with....
If you are an adoptive parent you know the benefits of this credit and should contact your Representatives, and if you are not an adoptive parent, but have ever thought adoption was used by God and should be supported **double AHEM**, then you should call or write too.
Please GO read the link. This is important to me and to the future of adoption in the U.S..
**smooch**

So the day has arrived...

2009-02-26T11:45:00.000-08:00

I don't know what got into us.

About mid December, Mike and I were talking through some speed bumps we were having in our financial road (read a few huge things had popped up). It was really a great conversation about paring down to the basics and was honestly a precursor to the major surgeries going on around here recently.

Anyhow, we began talking about ways we could begin to save major money. And one thing led to another and we stumbled on Brendan's school tuition. I said, a little tongue in cheek, "Well, I guess I could always homeschool Bubbs, next year." And Mike, not missing a beat, "Yea, you could."

I'd pay good money to rewind the tape of my life back to the TENS of times I have said, "I will NEVER, COULD NEVER home school."

I'm not one of *those* girls. I enjoy teaching and reading. I enjoy my children, but have somehow been ticking minutes till I could have free time back in my day. School=healthy/educational babysitting.

Then, I took Brendan to full day, three days a week kindergarten this year. AND cried almost every day for a month after I dropped him off. So much so, that Brendan would come home from school and ask me if I cried that day. TALK ABOUT ROLE REVERSAL.

This is taking forever....

To make a long story short, that conversation led me to start asking questions about homeschooling to somehow prove to the both of us how this wasn't really a good idea. I interviewed and drilled 5 dear friends and read everything they put into my hands. Researched curriculum options and have prayed endlessly. I'd say, "I don't think I can do this..." and Mike would assure me he believed we should consider it. I'd say, "I can't wait!" and Mike would say, "I don't know if this is a good idea." But praise the Lord our hearts are finally united and peace is coming in waves.

We have the perfect scenario for homeschooling. We have a farm family. Land. Resources. Close friend. A tiny-itty bitty library. And hearts that are convinced this is what God has called us to for this season, for that camo dressed boy.

When the sheet came home in Brendan's folder yesterday for pre-enrollment for next year, we took a huge breath and checked the "NO." box. Brendan is coming home.

Mike Rocks.

2009-02-13T11:28:00.000-08:00

Does Mike still rock??
Yes.
Because he is a romantic.
He loves getting dressed up, though it would be hard to tell when he comes home covered in ....ummm.....nasty stuff. But give him an inch and he will plan a beautiful evening out and request special attire.
"I want you to get dressed up."
I love him.
He wants me to feel special so the evening is special. Smart man that he is.
He loves a great wedding. He watches chickflicks and his favorite movies, save a couple action flicks, are my favorites too.
He's the one who lights the candles. He's the one that writes the notes.

He is wonderful. And HE ROCKS.

We're in this thing together

2009-02-04T11:05:00.000-08:00

One of the things every parent wants to see is their kids loving, protecting and comforting each other.
Although-when Brendan was assigned a time out for poor behavior, his littlest sister came unhinged and sat right down beside him. Quickly followed by the middle child who needed to provide encouragement and strength as well.
OH BROTHER.
And doesn't Brendan's face look pathetic?

Cooking up FUN!

2009-02-02T12:47:00.000-08:00

HEY!!!

Back on the bandwagon.... again. :)

You can only imagine the fun we cooked up in December.

True to form, I missed/forgot about starting the Jesse Tree (Advent) stuff and refused to scramble and add one more thing.....MARK MY WORDS-I will be remembering next year.

SO-We cooked up a bunch of family nights and books that celebrated the birth of our Savior and brought new memories and traditions into our home.

The first was sugar cookie making.

Mike started the dough with the kids on one night. It took Brendan and Gabi a little while to understand why they couldn't stick their hand in the KitchenAide, but fortunately, they obeyed and no one lost a finger.

The dough chilled and we decided to postpone the rolling and cutting for a day.

The next night we started with three clean kids and a clean kitchen!

Dumb.

We ended with three dozen or so cookies and three floured children.

Gabi looked positively caucasian she had so much flour on her.

Don't ask why every cupboard is open.....I don't want to talk about my cooking skills.

Anyhow.

We baked up a storm of cookies and treats this year and shared them with friends, family, B's school buddies....

and we talked about the gifts we'd give to Jesus if we could.

Gabi said she'd give Jesus her heart....BELIEVE me, I can't wait to further that conversation. But right after she said it she skipped off and would have nothing to do with me.

Typical. :)

In short time, Lord, draw Gabi to a full understanding of her need for you.

Christmas on the beach

2008-12-18T12:12:00.000-08:00

I am so sorry. I hate having been neglectful for weeks on end. The truth is life has felt a little like the picture above. Paradise, in the middle of an onslaught of storms. Winds kicked up and storms brewing. Actually, this is Poipu Beach on Kauai. The signs says, "Caution, Falling Coconuts" and it happens to be a great reminder for me of the dangers of life on the beach.

Could someone please giggle with me?

For a short update...with promises for greater faithfulness in the weeks ahead.

Brendan's Christmas program is tonight. He is an angel and he is WAY excited. Way. He is singing and dancing and jumping and WAY excited. I'm interested to see how he does with being home from school for two weeks. He is sharp as a tack...reading very quickly and very well....Beth gave him the complete collection of Curious George books (in one hard bound edition) for Christmas and now I'm wondering why bother with a trip to the library. *wink* Brendan and Gabi always dash straight to the Northeast corner of the kid's section and scoot the stools over and climb to the Curious George section....

Gabriella had an appointment with a new Speech Pathologist for a complete evaluation yesterday. She did exceptionally well. They scored her well above average in receptive language and that just eased this Mama's mind. There are so many things you don't know or wonder about when your child has speech issues, and this is one concern that could be put to bed. Praise you and thank you, Jesus. Gabi has an MRI and will be sedated on Monday morning, and an appointment with an Apraxia specialist in Detroit on January 7th. It is a busy time, but I can only offer up thanksgiving that answers are coming. I feel like we are making SIGNIFICANT progress here at home and she is just eager to work through her *homework.*

LexieBeth is driving now.....just kidding. Seriously, the girl is 15 months going on 16 years old. She is exceptional in every way, including exceptionally dramatic. She has broken about 10 of her Meema's ornaments---so I have not put one on our tree. Just white lights this year. No presents under the tree....they have to wait until Christmas morning....and then they'll experience the onslaught sent from Texas, Arkansas, and Colorado. My family is insane. They are all being sent to present rehab in the New Year.

Mike is doing well. Work is always a challenge as he tries hard to manage the water distribution during freezing temperatures. He is praising the Lord for new boots rated for 30 below and a new pair of waterproof Carhart's. His new gear has been SUCH a blessing already. Mike is home throughout the day on and off for his clothes to be put through the dryer and to put on some new dry apparel. I can't imagine working with water in some of the freezing conditions that he does....I honestly thank God for his willingness to serve our family by working. He's in our close friends', Calvin and Megan, wedding on the 27th. Gabi is their flower girl and Bubbs is their ring bearer. We are so excited to be a part.

What else? I have about 100 posts in the making and a desire to spend some time writing, but this season lulls me into cups of coffee and quiet moments. I pray today you find one of those....as one friend tells me, "The world yells and Jesus whispers."

Let's not miss the whisper of the babe in the manger.

IWillLiv4You

2008-11-19T10:31:00.000-08:00

IWillLiv4You

This weekend we were able to be with Michael and Mandy and their youth group serving as teachers at Ignition.
First, it was incredible weekend. God SHOWED UP. Mike led one of our seniors, Jordan, to the Lord, and I think God flipped a switch in Mike. Its not that Mike hasn't had a heart for the lost, surely, as I breathe he does, but whatever God pressed in Mike is lit up. A new man has emerged with a faith, I hardly know how to respond to, leadership in our home that is new and fresh, and a passion for scripture and a loyalty therewithin. What can I say, I am amazed.

Second, we were able to hang with Michael and Mandy, Michelle, Tim, Holly and Michael....all VERY dear friends. I can't tell you the depth of some of these relationships that time has yet to injure. Praise Him.

Third, our house this weekend was filled with some of the most incredible Seniors we have EVER encountered. Their leaders have hearts the size of Texas, hearts for the Lord and his purposes and hearts for their students. Incredible. Those students are hungry for more of God. May HE be pleased as they run after him.

But the sucker punch to my soul came from my son.
IWillLiv4You
The band that came together this weekend was AMAZING! They led us boldly before the throne and we worshipped there. I love that. My kids were shell shocked that music could be so loud. Gabi and LexieBeth hated it. But Brendan. Oh' Brendan.
When we finally made him step down from his perch on a chair in the back row, he seemed so sad to be leaving such an atmosphere of worship. It was right in the middle of a great song too.
Mike and I led him back to the room where he would leave with the darling college students who loved our kids to pieces this weekend. Brendan was busy writing on the white board in the room while we finished wrapping up the last minute stuff...and this ....
IWillLiv4You
was what we found on the white board....a lyric from the song we were just singing. Mike and I both had tears in our eyes and loved on him and praised his heart and sent him off for the rest of the weekend.
Sunday night, we were tucking the kids in bed and Gabriella and I were talking about Christmas coming and about things we could give to baby Jesus for HIS birthday next month. She thought some clothes and toys. Sweet. Precious Heart.
When I went into Bubbs' room, Mike and Brendan were finishing up reading his Bible. I told Brendan about Gabi's idea to give a present to baby Jesus and I asked him what he thought we could do for Jesus.
He thought about it and gave me seven great ideas.....buy toys for a kid who doesn't have any, give our pennies, etc....and then the eighth idea.....oh that our hearts would agree.
"We could LIVE for HIM, Mama."
Oh' that we would. That our hearts will be so aligned. Praise you, Jesus.

Sometimes you just launch...

2008-11-07T13:50:00.000-08:00

Have you ever noticed that there are certain events in your life that just propel you in a totally different direction?
When I was growing up, we had a friend who had a trampoline. I was never very excited about trampolines. Something about flying through the air, and perhaps hitting a double bounce (you know when you land only to be bounced at that exact moment, sent careening even higher into the air??).
FREAK OUT.
Firstborns,being out of control, and all that.
Now, trampolines hold even less appeal. Something about peeing your pants in midair that brings endless shame as an adult....whatever.
I'm just talking about the double bounce, anyway.
There are times in life when you are jumping along at a totally safe safe pace, enjoying the minimal thrill of your toes remaining on the tramp and every once in a while leaving momentarily.
And then comes the other person. The circumstance. The disease. The job loss. The incident. The affair. The election. The great big whatever.
Its timing always variable. But the results;one of two.
One. Your knees buckle and you tuck your tail and land on your butt. SCARED to death. Refusing to grab the air offered.
OR
Two.
You jump for cotton-pickin' all you are worth and take the double bounce. The chance to learn and grow and experience the lessons God is offering you in the air.
The landing is sometimes painful. Never safe. The landing place totally unpredictable.
But oh' the air.

Happy 31st...

2008-11-06T12:41:00.000-08:00

Taking a cue from Ryan, here are the top 31 reasons I love Mike.

1. Cause he loves Jesus with his whole heart.
2. Cause he is a fantastic father.
3. Cause he is hilarious. Don't tell him, I said that.
4. Cause he is a hard worker.
5. Cause he makes prayerful decisions.
6. Cause he loves people. I mean lets them in to the center of his heart.
7. Cause he is faithful.
8. Cause he gets better looking every year. :)
9. Cause he always tells I'm a good cook.
10. Cause he's always up for an adventure.
11. Cause he believes in family.
12. Cause he avoids peanut butter for my sake.
13. Cause he cuddles at night.
14. Cause he can't remember where he is going to save his life.
15. Cause he is a GREAT builder.
16. Cause he is a GREAT farmer.
17. Cause he grew the best garden this summer. Almost singlehandedly.
18. Cause he is ticklish.
19. Cause he's a romantic.
20. Cause he lets me sleep in on his Saturdays off.
21. Cause he loves my family.
22. Cause he has incredible biblical insight.
23. Cause he is very mechanical.
24. Cause he can fix stuff. And it actally works again.
25. Cause he's always up for a diaper change.
26. Cause he's a great secret keeper.
27. Cause he loves country music but listens to Northern Christian Radio.
28. Cause he tries to be interested in what I'm interested in.
29. Cause he is a great travel partner.
30. Cause he tries hard. Always.
31. And the thirty first reason why I think Mike is better than sliced bread is 'cause he's a good man. At the core of his being, he's a terrific guy. That I am just SO blessed to know and love.

This is 2 days late for those of you who noticed. Not because I didn't remember his birthday. I did. I even bought him a present. :) Ask him what it was. :)

I voted.

2008-11-04T11:02:00.000-08:00

I have nothing more to say.
No passionate speech to give.
This election season has left me speechless.
While two weeks ago I caved to anxiety and tears with fear for the future, today I cast my ballot.

Two weeks ago, I would have begged for you to vote the same way I voted today. I would have pled with you for the future of my children and for the morality of the country. I would reason and debate, I'd pine for a glimmer of hope that righteousness would win on this date.

But thirteen days ago, I realized my hope was not in reason and debate. My hope will NEVER lie in the hands of the people.
NEVER.

In CHRIST alone my hope is found, HE is my light, my strength, my song. This cornerstone, this solid ground. FIRM through the fiercest drought and storm.

Today, I voted for a man to lead our country.

BUT that man is not my hope. My hope is secure come what may in the days to come.

My HOPE is eternal and this life but a breath.

No pow'r of hell, no scheme of man,Can ever pluck me from His hand;Till He returns or calls me home—Here in the pow'r of Christ I'll stand.

What are we doing?

2008-10-20T08:04:00.000-07:00

Harvest 2008 has begun and Mike says the weekend was full of soybeans, though truth be told, I had him home Saturday and Sunday. It was wonderful.

Mike says soybeans have to have very little moisture and are more susceptible to climate and weather than corn so the push is always to get the beans off. Well, from my seat in my Pine Needle green office it is a soggy, overcast Monday. Not exactly bean weather, and I'm sure not corn weather either. Don't tell anyone, but I love days like this. It isn't cold, it is just a little cool and the trees, because they are wet, appear black. The leaves are so stunning this year that the yellows, golds, oranges and reds pop against that black bark and demand another cup of coffee to admire the view. I love this time of year.

We are looking forward to Friday. We have to leave around 1pm for Gabriella's appointment at the neuro ped. I pray for God's leading in the appointment. I just feel so clueless. Mike is going, and I'm so grateful. I feel like when he's there I can make certain that I don't overstate or understate. He's just so balanced. I love him so much.

AND

This weekend is missions conference. I love hearing the burden of our missionaries' hearts. God is just so magnified.

I pray this week that He will be magnified in me. Blessings....to you, today. Enjoy the fall.

Photo credits to Gabi

Register and Vote

2008-10-17T11:25:00.000-07:00

This week I had the awesome privilege of speaking in the girl's club at Awana. (Their parent's were there....have mercy, I was nervous.) When I was preparing, I'll confess to complete cluelessness as to what to teach on. I pondered the pumpkin carving demonstration complete with candle inside. *You know-You are the light of the world....*
Instead. I settled on "The Choice is Yours." a boost from a kids devotional.

The verse we studied was in Joshua 24:14-15. "Choose this day who you will serve."
I was struck not necessarily by the call for obedience and loyalty (which is where I parked my teaching-that we have an important decision EVERY day to choose God. Not just parents on election day. Though, surely, that keeps my mind reeling.) , but honestly I spent a good bit of personal time camped out on the chapter before.

Joshua 23.
v.14-16b

"Now I am about to go the way of all the earth.You know with all your heart and soul that not one of all the good promises the Lord your God gave you has failed. Every promise has been fulfilled; not one has failed. But just as every good promise has come true, so the Lord will bring on you all the evil he has threatened,until he has destroyed you from this good land he has given you. If you violate the covenant of the Lord you God, which he commanded you, and go and serve other gods and bow down to them....."

I can't begin to count the good promises the Lord has made, friend. Not one of them has failed. How very un-human. How faultless. How captivating. No wonder Joshua called the children of Israel to choose God that day.

With confidence and complete know so he recalled their weakness for all things trivial. Joshua went up Mt Sinai with MOSES. Moses! He he must have been half way up the mountain when Moses received the 10 commandments. Joshua heard the revelry in the camp as the Israelites built their golden calf and forsook (is that a word) the Lord who had just delivered them from Egypt. He had seen God deliver and the people quake in their boots. Save his people and watched them turn their backs.

PRONE TO WANDER. THEY WERE.

I AM.

Joshua spoke to the unfaithful children of Israel and to me.

Choose this day. Every day.

SERVE THE FAITHFUL.

Day of Remembrance

2008-10-16T12:27:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, Monica, wrote about the National Day of Remembrance of children who have died, been stillborn, or miscarried.
I was so choked up I couldn't get to this post.
I want to say, three years and three months worth of days have passed since our T-2's due date. That precious baby, who rests in the Lord, departed my life after 11 weeks in my tummy. Such a short time. Never out of my memory, just not such a deep gash in my soul.
I want to offer this hope.

I PRAISE God for taking T-2 (our second baby).
Because through that loss and pain, we found Gabriella.
And not one moment of one day do I regret that. I glory in God for the loss because His plans are always right. Not always comfortable and fuzzy. Not nearly romantic. But always right.
I can stand and say on this day, that God is good. I will choose him. Again and again and again.
He was good the day we lost T-2 and he is good today.
A few tears were shed yesterday and now today, because I understand fully that God heals pain but doesn't erase the memory.
Love and prayers to those who are part of this club. The one you would never choose to be in but are awfully glad is there. And to one of my dearest friends, I love you and am praying.

Speaking of hitting the road

2008-10-09T06:35:00.000-07:00

They are ready.

When faith hits the road

2008-10-09T06:18:00.000-07:00

It is easy to be a big faith talker.
I believe God's presence is near and I can see him answering prayers in other people's lives.
I believe God can and will accomplish great things through the struggles and trials of my friends and acquaintances.
I've heard myself say to Mike recently, "God will provide for them. He is enough and his resources are limitless." AND I BELIEVE EVERY WORD OF THAT.
I believe God is enough for you.
I believe that any sacrifice made for HIM will be credited.
I believe he turns sorrow into dancing and our darkness into joy.
I've watched that one play out in my own life.
I believe God is a friend to the friendless and is leaving a hollow spot in all of us for the sole purpose of drawing us to him.
I believe he STILL performs miracles and that he is moving among us.

But quite often I believe that for YOUR life.

In my day in and day out, I often live defeated. Deflated by the sorrow, need, and odds that seemed stacked in someone else's favor. I act hopeless. I weep without any thought to the possible grand rescue plan already in the works for things I've written off as hopeless. I churn ideas all day for redeeming MYSELF.

It is time for my faith to put on its boots and hit the road.
Believe, Oh' my soul.
Believe GODS PROMISES for me.

Gotcha #3

2008-09-24T06:52:00.000-07:00

September 11, 2001 is not a day many of us wants to relive. Images are seared in our minds that we pray, by the grace of God, we hope to never see again. And on that day, we remember.

But September 11th is a day of JUBILATION in our home. That is our GOTCHA DAY!!
Mike and I traveled to Guatemala to pick up Gabi on September 3rd, 2005. We had to spend a day pining for her in Guatemala City by some random miscommunication and during that day we enjoyed a little more of Guatemala's culture and energy. We ate at a few yummy restaurants and enjoyed all that the Westin and a few city blocks offered. Mostly, we waited with anticipation.

The following noon, Gabi arrived with Elva, her foster mother and Elva's family. They were so good to Mike and I and we spent days enjoying many sights, sharing meals and even opening their home to us. We came to love their precious family and especially the woman who gave care to our baby for the three months she spent in Guatemala. This is a picture of newborn Gabriella with Elva, her foster Mama.
Days flew by with appointments at the Embassy Physicians and the Embassy. We made our last trip to Antigua and held Elva and her family and cried a farewell. How do you thank a woman for protecting and nurturing your baby for THREE months? We went to the zoo and when we were about to go crazy, it was time to leave.

September 11, 2005, Mike and I made the journey home to Arkansas with our baby girl. We woke up our precious sleepy baby and packed the last of our things and took our 4am ride to the airport. As we watched dawn break on Guatemala one last time, our hearts sang. We would always remember the sights and sounds of this mysterious place, but we were ready, nay, more than ready to bring our baby girl home.

When we arrived in Houston, we dashed off the plane. For some reason, my eyes stung with tears as we rounded the jet way and crossed into the airport. I yelled, to Mike's dismay, "COME AND GET HER NOW! HA! WE'RE HOME!!!" Something incredible happened when the wheels touched down in Houston, Gabriella automatically became a US citizen and Gabi gained rights and privileges that people in Guatemala can not begin to fathom. And a defense behind me to protect the baby my heart conceived of since age 4.

Two hours later, we arrived home to Brendan pointing and yelling, "It's GABI!" Like she had been with us his entire life. We knelt down to him, with our close family and friends surrounding us and introduced him to the sister he'd been praying and waiting for. Dave-O led us in a prayer of thanksgiving and we held tightly to some of the people who God used to gird us through the wait.

I can not fathom life without my girl, Gabi. She whispers sweet things to me each day that make life so much fuller. We reassure each other that we will always be best friends and just how proud I am that she is mine. She has an incredibly tender heart and is an incredible little sister and older sister. A darling princess and a fantastic plastic food chef. A horse afficionado and animal lover. A great giggler and a very smart cookie. She is such a gift. My heart sings just trying to put into words.....

Praise you, Father. Praise you. You saw our family before we knew breath and drew us together at the fullness of time. You are glorious.

And who said "Girls Can't Pack Cars"

2008-09-22T06:27:00.000-07:00

Three weeks ago, my dear friend Jenny (hey girl!!), called on a Thursday night and said, "Lee, wanna do something crazy?" Like what? "Like go on a road trip to IKEA, in Chicago." Sure, Jen. When? Tomorrow? What?

Well, we had to wait a week and while we were scheming and planning we conned two more friends to come along! These girlies are three of my favorite people on the planet. So, from left to right, Jenny, me (duh.), Stacy, and Crystal.

We headed out for Chicago and picked up Crystal and Stacy along the way. We just rolled on down the road, stopping occasionally for a bathroom. Now, the person who had to potty shall remain nameless because talking about going to the bathroom can be a sensitive subject to a mom of three kids. Woops. Never mind. When we arrived in Schaumberg, the girls indulged my deep need for PF Changs' lettuce wraps and it was almost constant laughter. Just what the doctor ordered for me, I think.

We ate quickly and headed to IKEA to shop till we drop.

AND SHOP WE DID.

We bought Chicago.

A desk, a set of bookshelves, a queen head and foot board, a bedside table, two dressers, a bench and two cart loads of miscellaneous.

And the great part was trying to figure out how we would possibly put it all in my minivan. But we did. And Emeril (my van) has NEVER been stuffed like this.
The girls had to sit with their heads hovering off the headrests, because the floor in the back was packed full of boxes. Ikea kicked us out at 10pm and we did what everyone should do after experiencing such shopping exhilaration. We went to Starbucks!!! Can I get a "Glory!"?

We headed back to the hotel where we enjoyed great conversation and laughed until 2:15 in the morning. I can't remember the last time I did that. It was a blast.
The next morning we hit Panera for breakfast and headed back to Ikea for a few things we couldn't live without. Actually, this is when we picked up the bench and lamps.

This is the morning picture. Don't the girls look fresh after blessed little sleep?

This cart was the next morning. Day two of Ikea.

We finished up at Ikea, hit the outlets in Indiana on the way home (and Dairy Queen), and laughed and talked all the way home. It was fabulous. Refreshing. And a total blessing.

Jenny, we may never be allowed to leave the house together again, but it was TOTALLY worth it.
Stacy, you are the most fabulous tour guide and shopping buddy

And Crystal, I was proud of the way you cut loose and bought Chicago.

I think I'm going to go repent now...

;)

I Am meme

2008-09-21T12:46:00.000-07:00

I AM

i am: a Christ follower.

i think: in corollaries. All the time.

i know: I should eat breakfast. But I don't like it and probably never will.

i want: to learn Greek.

i have: been to Russia, Guatemala, Hawaii, Mexico, Puerto Rico, Aruba, and the US Virgin Islands.

i wish: I didn't put my foot in my mouth all the time. its called discretion.

i hate: lying.

i miss: my mom.

i fear: failure.

i feel: moved by music and scripture.

i hear: pretzels rattling in little bowls. And Lexie Beth jabbering.

i smell: fall air.

i crave: meaningful conversation. and moments

i search: for ways to tell my kids I love them without using words.

i wonder: if my generation will see Christ's return in the clouds.

i regret: , but I know that in my darkest place, Christ is able to shine the brightest. But by the grace of God.

i love: holding Mike's hand. and Starbucks. and Borders by Watertower Place. I LOVE that Borders. As a matter of fact, I would love to hold Mike's hand and a Starbucks and be in Borders at Watertower.....

i ache: when I think about a certain little boy in Russia. Who isn't a little boy anymore. He's probably 17.

i care: about what people think.

i always: want to be in love with Jesus.

i am not: going to like the smell of peanut butter. EVER.

i believe: in my kids. and that Jesus is the way.

i dance: with my kids. Every. day.

i sing: and like harmony. I miss it often. But I always try.

i don’t always: buy things when I have money in my wallet. Even though my dad says a dollar burns a hole in my pocket.

i fight: when I'm hurt.

i write: and want it to mean something.

i win: every time Gabi says a new word. or an old word the right way. and every time she says, "I wuv you, Mama."

i lose: sleep over things that rarely are deserving.

i never: want to visit Antarctica.

i confuse: having to work late with wanting to work late. Poor Mike.

i listen: to David Crowder Band. Almost every day.

i can usually be found: with a coffee cup in hand.

i am scared: of poverty. And of falling down the stairs

i need: more of Jesus. More of Him in me.

i am happy about: fall coming and pumpkin spice candles and applesauce. And that Lexie Beth is walking.

So have I mentioned I have tomatoes?

2008-09-17T11:19:00.001-07:00

What do you do when life hands you SEVERAL bushels of tomatoes?
Make 15 pints of salsa!!! And I still have more tomatoes!! I'm going to be trying Pizza Sauce later today....
It feels good to preserve the bounty the Lord has provided! Even though last night the canning didn't end till midnight. Actually, it was late because Mike brought in 4 cucumbers and I hadn't had 4 cucumbers come in almost in total all summer. So, I decided to make our favorite relish. The process didn't end till late.

Then Lexie Beth and I had a par-tay at 1:15 to almost 2:00am. Zzzzz! :)
Hope you have a blessed day, today.

You say tomato, I say...work.

2008-09-17T11:19:00.000-07:00

Lexie Beth has forsaken crawling. She is now toddling about 75% of the time, but it still surprises me every time I see her upright. She is darling and spirited, and about the most similar to Curious George of any child I've EVER met.
This is Lexie inspecting some of the tomatoes "Little Grandma" and I washed for canning. That's a cute little Romas in her hands.This is Lexie putting down the fifth or sixth tomato she'd taste tested for quality. It was difficult to not laugh when I was taking the pot away from her and she broke down in hysterics. But THERE WERE bite marks in far too many tomatoes to allow her to keep up the process. She's such a helper.
Here the finished product. 12 quarts of tomatoes, half of them are juice and half are whole stewed. Yum!

A good rule

2008-09-15T19:48:00.001-07:00

Brendan asked for a piece of paper just before dinner so he could make a new sign. He's been making signs off and on all summer, usually something along the lines of "No GIRLS."
Tonight this was his sign.

It says, "NO GRABBING PEOPLE AROUND THE NECK!"
Enough said.

What's Up?

2008-09-15T07:10:00.000-07:00

Hey there friends!
So, what's up with us that we aren't blogging, anyway?

Well, Brendan started school and is doing really well. He's so excited every school morning that he dances around acting loopy and refusing to sit still for breakfast. You'd think this school buzz would wear off, but he danced around like a goon the entire year last year. It makes me happy to be a Mom, actually.

We've all been struck by a cold. Gabi's cold and mine have included sores in our mouths that make the inside feel raw and often bleed. I've only had this kind of thing two other times in my life and one was right before our wedding. (stress induced-I'm not really stressed-so I think it might just be a virus-albeit an uncomfortable one).

Lexie Beth has decided walking is a preferable means of transportation and has been walking pretty much all the time. She is in desperate need of bubble wrap for her head and body. Good thing God created their little bodies to survive the toddler years. Scares Mama to death.

Gabriella starts SPT this morning. Hopefully the therapist will be here in a half hour. I think it is time to start working again. Gabi is hilarious right now. She has pretty much given up on nap time and instead strips to her skivs and plays wildly in her room. Last week I went in to wake her up and found her sleeping soundly from the night in a blue tutu. I am positive I put her to bed in pink jammies. But you know....Midnight costume change. You never know who you are going to meet in YOUR BED.

Mike was off this weekend and it was WONDERFUL. He assembled my desk and bookshelves from IKEA and I love them. I can put all my office stuff away and still have a set of good sized bookshelves for my study stuff. I love it. And Mike was SO relaxed about the whole project. Projects have never really been a marital strong point until the last year. They are more like a test of your solidarity, actually. Glad we've been winning the battle against project rage this year. We've had our fair share of projects, for sure.

Okay, pictures of the events of the week to follow. Blessings today.

Peaches...final count

2008-09-04T19:39:00.000-07:00

I guess I'm not willing to say I'm done canning peaches for the year, but I HAVE finished all the peaches we have in our possession. Which brings the count to 22 quarts and two pints.

I opted for peach slices this year instead of halves and I bet I put double if not more the amount of fruit in each jar that I did last year. This was a LOT more work, but my darling hubby peeled while I canned.

It is a hot job, but I'm telling you, it is like sunshine in January when you pop the top of a home canned jar of peaches.

Sidenote- It is raining! All day long! God has been so good to us.

First Day of Kindergarten

2008-09-03T18:30:00.000-07:00

Be still, Mama's heart. My boy is too big.
Brendan bounded out of bed this morning and into my room at 7:00am. He headed downstairs and enjoyed some blueberry pancakes with his Dad and was still eating those pancakes at 6:45. The child could not eat his breakfast he was so excited.

It was such a mixed bag of emotions. Mostly heartsick. Mostly pride. Lots of prayers.

He hardly looked back and was too busy to wave goodbye. He sat in front of the girl he thinks hung the moon and across the aisle and down a ways from good buddy, Rece. That's Rece down below.

Gabi, Lexie and I made a morning of it. Enjoying our coffee and working on MOPS projects, our time was up before it began. Bubbs only had a half day today, full days start Friday.
I asked him how the day went, and he said, "Great MOM! We did the hokey pokey!"
Awww....he's still a little boy.

PS-Isn't my blog fabulous??? Thanks, Fairy Blogmother. You are wonderful!!

FINALLY!

2008-09-03T14:19:00.000-07:00

Dear Lee,

I'm not sure who had it in for us but we have finally beat them! Your new blog design is up and running. I hope you love it! Please let me know if there are any changes you would like to make. Your family is beautiful and I will continue to follow along. I hope some day we can change your blog name to "old pro at this farm stuff".

Blessings,
your fairy blogmother

Just a little wild

2008-08-29T07:29:00.000-07:00

Mike ROCKS! for so many reasons, but today he rocks because he's got just enough wild to make him completely attractive. Mike is a guys guy. While he IS sensitive, compassionate, a total lover, hold hands and snuggle kind of guy, he's got just enough reckless abandon to drive a girl plum wild.
He's sporty enough to keep up with the guys on the basketball court, but he's not Michael Jordan. Actually. He's had his nose broken playing basketball and football over the course of our marriage. Good times. The guys want him on their team no matter the sport, but good heavens,
look out if you are playing volleyball. The guy HAS game.

He's a bit of a scrappy competitor in a totally irresistible, but not for a moment cocky-kind of way. He's humble enough to say he's athletic, but not particularly skilled in any one area (except volleyball).

He's a snowmobile lover, the best tube-roller I know, and a pretty decent downhill skier.

Now. I know there are other more moving ways that Mike ROCKS, but have mercy when he turns his hat backwards and acts just a little wild. That man is totally taken.
*swoon*

(Notice the #8 car....Brendan thinks his DAD ROCKS too!)

Steppin' Out

2008-08-29T05:01:00.001-07:00

That gorgeous boy and fabulous Mama are my darling nephew "Little Chase" and my stepsister, Lisa. Now, I hesitate to even say stepsister because that fabulous, God fearing woman is so intertwined with my soul that I hate admitting that we've only been related for, let's see, I think it has been 18 years. There was a starting point in our relationship, but by God's grace it will have no end.

Anyhow. I interrupt my random stream of consciousness to tell you that today is Lisa's last day of work. She is a sucessful CPA and works as a supervisor for a very large firm in Colorado. She has a great job and a great salary to go with it, of this, I am certain. But today, in faith she is heeding a call she heard four years ago, to leave her job and stay home with their two kids.

I can't imagine the pressure on my brother-in-law, Mike, and Lisa as they step by faith into this new season, but I know that my God will hold them.

This, my friends, is what faith looks like. You hear the call and your drop what you have in your hands and run after him. (I feel the need to make qualifying statements, but I can't.) That is just how it is. God says move and baby, you go. It only looks unsafe and wreckless to the untrained eye. As my Mike once told me, "The safest place for me to be is right where God is calling me."

You are safe, Lisa. Right smack dab in the center of God's, perfect will. You have had this confirmed over and over. Fix your eyes on Jesus, sis. You will walk on water.

Not to mention my gorgeous niece and nephew, who will one day call you, "Blessed."

Serious Drama.

2008-08-25T10:35:00.000-07:00

Nope not the kids.
Me this time.
I performed a monologue in service yesterday and it was really a lot of fun. It has been quite a while since I have done any quick extensive memorizing....and it was tougher that I imagined it would be....
Didn't help that I was memorizing by my lonesome. Mike has been kayaking in Canada with his buds. More about that later, I'm sure.
Anyhow, Mike usually helps me memorize listening to me over and over. Helping me with subtle changes and fine tuning, but I was in this thing alone.
I started memorizing on Wednesday and tried to work on it at nap time for 15 minutes and bedtime for 20. Saturday, I worked for a good portion of the day interspersed with about 30 (literal) phone calls. So, by Saturday night, I was pretty sure I was going to flop. I subscribe to this theory that "whatever we do, in word or in deed" it needs to be done for the glory of God. Now this is definitely at play in ministry situations....and I wanted it to be well done. I still wasn't comfortable Saturday night until I lay my head back on the pillow and said the whole thing allowed with only a couple minor pauses, prayed about it and fell asleep.

So, Sunday morning, I woke up and made coffee. I had a good time with the Lord and didn't even think to run through the skit. I had just committed it to the Lord and He'd brought peace. The run through went well as did the service. Praise Him.

He's always there when I need Him. Not to pull me out of a pit from procrastination, but to bring peace and allow his will to be accomplished through me as he sees fit. I do my part, he does the rest.

Now if only I'd put as much time into cleaning my bedroom as memorizing, Mike would have a spic and span house when he gets home tonight....alas it shall not be....

Husband Rocks-late

2008-08-23T06:22:00.001-07:00

Does Mike still ROCK? You bet he does.

Mike rocks in a myriad of ways.....but today, I have to make mention of the joy he brings to those around him. People are encouraged, upheld, loved, hugged, teased and thoroughly edified (that word is for you, Mom) when they are around Mike. I think that is the mark of someone whose life is surrendered to Christ. That they have joy bubbling out of them.

YOU ROCK BABE!

Could she be...any more beautiful?

2008-08-22T06:00:00.000-07:00

We are all about Lexie.

Her smiles, her screams, her sleep patterns, her giggles, her first 4 teeth, her paci, her big blue eyes, her incredible vocabulary, her sweetness.

She is an incredibly determined child that brings her Mommy limitless joy.

Though she is a Daddy's girl.

Humph.

Taste and See

2008-08-21T10:30:00.000-07:00

First off, I'd like to brag and tell you that this is just TODAY's picking of the garden. It is busting literally at the edges. The goodness of the Lord is astounding. The way He makes things grow....oh' to put into words the lessons learned about God and his goodness, creativity, abundant spirit. It has literally been comical at times as I've giggled to myself at yet another zucchini.

I haven't blogged much about the garden, or posted many pictures due to the absolute absurdity of our Internet connection. But I've added some pics and tried to squeeze in labels to give you an idea what's crammed into this large parcel.

Does it need to be weeded? Absolutely. We just returned from a wedding and a week at the beach. But our friends and family helped water and pick it while we were gone. I can't begin to tell you how much we've been able to "put up" for the winter. Canning at times and freezing the majority. It is a blast. The most fun is sharing. Enough said.

The current problem?

Trying to get Mike to retry veggies he *thinks* he doesn't like!

How about you guys? What would you like to grow in your garden? Or what DO you grow in your garden?

Was I...?

2008-08-04T08:37:00.001-07:00

Brendan just walked up to me and asked

"Mom, was I ever a toddler?"

Yes. Like yesterday.

Can you live without a picture?

2008-08-04T07:35:00.000-07:00

This weekend has been filled to the brim with emotion and work.

Mike worked this weekend and is still in the throes of cherry season. It means the water used to clean the cherries is dumped into a "pond" and then used to irrigate fields that our farm-farms. Mike has been busy. But then so have most of the people we know. There is no room for complaint in this environment when the people you are working and living alongside are in the same boat.

Add to that a list of responsibilities and summer jobs around the house that need to get done and every minute of every day is filled.

And I'm trying to struggle through exactly what my response right now should be.

My first thought is that I feel extreme gratitude that Mike has a good job, that he loves and that more than meets our needs. That he works in an environment that encourages him to live with integrity and work among friends. What more could a wife ask for?

When there are certain seasons of business, I need to remember the times that we've had together and look expectantly forward to when it again slows and we'll have downtime.

I am taking a hard look at the activities that we have in our life right now that I am filling some of our nights with. They are all GOOD things, but are they the BEST things for this season of our life. I struggle so much combating the isolation of being a stay at home mommy and craving time with and around people. So, it is in my nature to want to dash to community when Mike gets home and I have the opportunity. But I'm not sure that encourages our family time and Mike's influence and leadership in our home.

I'm praying through this. If there is anything I'm learning, it is that in the end, my response is pivotal. And while I love my new home and Mike's job and our community, I am struggling with the seasons of life right now.

So, this is the time for contentment. And the time to seek God's face and blessing. It is the time for me to grow in maturity and understanding. A time for me to be less demanding and find my needs in the Lord.

A pouring out of me, me, me and a filling up of the contentment of Christ.

Day trips

2008-07-31T05:00:00.000-07:00

This summer has been filled to the brim with activity. Gone are the days of wishing fall would come quickly. Actually air conditioning flipped on a few of these nights has probably helped that nice summer sentiment along.

Anyhow. This summer we've made several little "staycations" as GMA would say. Our favorite daytrip so far this summer could quite possibly be our trip to the zoo. The John Ball Zoo in GR is a drive, but when we squeeze my good friend Jenny, and her two boys in our van, the drive melted away. Nothing like a good friend to pass away the miles.

Her oldest son is a month older than Brendan. They would actually have been born even closer if her son, Rece, hadn't been a preemie. He's the cutie on the back of the camel.

This camel ride was a HUGE experience for my kids. Brendan and Gabi took their money up to the people at the zoo. Alone! Climbed right up on that camel. Alone! And the three buds took off on the short (1/10 of a mile, maybe?) ride. It was a fabulous sight.

No elephants at this zoo, but the kids really liked seeing the monkeys.
We are busy making memories this summer and exploring with everything we've got. What are you doing this summer?

Canned

2008-07-29T19:10:00.000-07:00

Well.
Yesterday I made a batch of tart cherry jam (7 pints).
Today I made another batch (7 pints) and froze 5 qts of blueberries.
And we had friends over tonight. And I mowed a 1/4 of the lawn. And I did laundry.
And I started off today reading the intro to my quiet time. I'm becoming desperate to finish it. Desperate for time in God's word. So I'm going to make this brief.

I'm also desperate for God to move in our country. The election and the direction of this country leaves a knot up in my throat that is almost tangible. We MUST pray. We MUST vote. We MUST repent.

In Need of....

2008-07-28T10:49:00.000-07:00

Well, I'm springing back into life here in farmville at a snail's pace.

I have a bounty calling for my attention currently.
9 lbs of blueberries that I want to make pie fill from
A sinkful of tart cherries to jam
Zucchini and squash to freeze and store

And a mound of laundry that would take your breath away. And what do I *want* to do.
That's right.
Take a nap.

Ask me tomorrow what I accomplished. Its accountability.

Family Death

2008-07-22T16:06:00.000-07:00

My uncle passed away last Friday night. I flew out Monday morning for the funeral (held today) and am in Texas until Thursday. Bear with the silence. I'll be back with a vengence next week. Your prayers for my family are coveted.

Also, a very dear girlfriend's brother drown in a lake in Michigan on Sunday. This is a very difficult time. Please pray for Stacy and her family. God alone brings comfort in such a devestating time.

Party Recap

2008-07-16T19:34:00.000-07:00

Brendan's birthday started with a "Guess what, MOM! Its my BIRTHDAY!!" Happy Birthday, Bubbs! We headed downstairs together after a good morning snuggle and found Mike was already long gone for the day. BUT, about 15 minutes later, Mike's truck came bombing down the driveway. And he walked in with a bag full of sprinkle doughnuts for the birthday boy! Super Dad, strikes again.

That afternoon we had Brendan's party with the usual guests. Aunts and Uncles, Grandparents, Great Grands, and cousins! This is Mike praying over Brendan at the party. I love LOVE love this tradition we have. Thank you, Father, for our son.
(See our new living room curtains? I'm not 100% sold on them but they are 100% better than the bare walls.)

Brendan wanted a race car cake. His driver is Dale Earnhart Junior. A race car cake you shall have. (Chocolate cake, white icing-only the best for my boy. **wink wink** That happens to be my favorite cake.) And the big ole bowl of sweet cherries? Courtesy of Gram Riley.

Cousin's Max and Abigail joined B&G on the porch for their cake. See the green grass growing all around? Beautiful night.
And finally time for presents. We got Brendan a fishing pole. A great choice my boy! Daddy helping Brendan figure out the pole.

Brendan's best......

color-green

number-88 (DEJ's number)

career-farmer builder firefighter soldier

music-psalty the singing song book

food- chex mix

place-great wolf lodge

parent-Dad hands down

day-Saturday-when Daddy's home

thing to do-ride his John Deere Gator.

friend- Best Buddy Zack.

Grrr

2008-07-16T05:37:00.001-07:00

I can NOT post picutres this morning.
So, you can just have a recap of yesterday.

Wake up, quiet time, breakfast, grab samples and lipsticks and put together orders, pack beach gear and lunches, drop off orders in nearby town, head to the beach, sit for HOURS with friends and let kids play, haul gear back to the car (worst part of going to the beach), put kids down for a rest, nobody slept, make dinner, wrap presents and head to double bridal shower, enjoy said shower, head home, crash on the couch and watch Discovery Channel.

It was a great day. Today is almost identical except we have Speech Therapy, swimming lessons, a lipstick appointment, and dinner with Mike's parents.

Who said summers were slow?
More as soon as I can post pictures.

Praise and Glory to our Lord, today, for His goodness, kindness, and faithfulness

An Award.....what?!

2008-07-14T07:09:00.001-07:00

Honest to goodness.....I have to confess that I NEVER imagined I'd receive an award for blogging. So, what a great suprise this morning to find one of my new favorite bloggie girls, Katy Lin at http://honestandlasting.blogspot.com/, had given me an award. Katy Lin, is a fellow Colorado Springs girl and she is the wonder who started the "My Husband Rocks" Fridays. I have to tell you that I love Katy's heart and her two best friends were two of my FAVORITE youth group girls from my time on staff at a church in the Springs. What a riot to meet each other on the www. She has a dynamite heart for her husband and Jesus.

This award has rules:1. Please put the logo on your blog.2. Add a link to the person who awarded you.3. You must nominate fellow bloggers for this award.4. Add links to the recipients.5. Leave a comment so the recipients know they have received an award.

So, here goes. I read a zillion blogs. Most of them don't know I'm alive, but these are a couple of my absolute favorites. I'm only picking two, the rule breaker that I am. I really hope you enjoy these.

1. Monica at http://thehomespunheart.blogspot.com/. The Homepsun Heart is one of the few blogs I found that I visit EVERY day. Her words are a refuge for weary hearts. Full of Christ's love and encouragement to make every day count in the lives of your family.

2. Tammy at http://www.tammysrecipes.com/. I am fascinated by her days and love LOVE love reading about her cooking adventures. I've tried her recipes and have enjoyed all of them.

Rocks Friday!!

2008-07-11T06:16:00.000-07:00

BAnh BAAAAA!

(That's a motorcycle like noise some of our clan makes about things fast, cool or wild. Brought to us by Best Buddy Zack)

Another reason why Mike ROCKS, you ask. Because Mike is absolutely, positively always up for a fun time. Beach day, you bet. Wild tube roller, check. Snowball fighter. Prank Player. Goofy laugher. Kid wrestler. Game player.

Have I told you about the time Mike beat me 28 times in a row at Backgammon? True story. I told him if I lost one more I wasn't going to play again. I won the next game.

More fun times. Always up for an adventure like helicopter rides and go carts.

Did I mention he is competitive? Oh my word. But not in a mean way. He'll just nag and bug you till you are nearly hysterical and far too distracted to concentrate on the competition at hand.

When my Dad and stepmom were up last year, Mike took my Dad slick kart racing. It was just the two of them on the track. Now I ask you, where should your loyalty lie in a time like that? With the father who raised you? The man you married and sleep beside? The old man driving like a maniac? (sorry dad-you aren't really old.) Or the young guy threatening to kill your dad? :) Makes my cheeks hurt thinking about it.

That picture is Mike, Bubbs and my Stepmom working on shooting up the fountains. The three of them need no encouragement on how to have Big fun.

Anyway. Mike, you ROCK, babe. Not that you read this, but you do anyhow. You are my best friend and I can hardly believe that I could marry such a godly man who is so much FUN!