Thwarted

Life is funny. 

You never really know what's coming.  You can plan, dream, anticipate, but what's waiting for you at the end of the tunnel is unknown. If I said it wasn't frustrating I'd be telling a big fat lie.  If I said that the "adventure" of it all is what keeps life interesting, I'd be telling you a half truth.  If I told you that the only thing that's constant and trustworthy in this crazy road called life is God, I'd be telling you the entire truth of the matter but I'm afraid it would sound like a cliche.
This year was supposed to be a year of change.  Saying "No", so that we can eventually say "Yes" to so much more.  Not only does the year seem to be going particularly fast, but as we rounded the half way mark there were obstacles in the way that we were not anticipating. How can you? You budget and plan and do your best, but Life just happens!  And even though we are doing well, removing as many rocks from our path as possible I wonder if we will ever see that light at the end of our tunnel.

That's when I remember...I remember the cliche.  He is constant.  He is trustworthy. No matter what Life throws my way I can weather it because I have Him.

Deep Breath.

So I cinch the budget belt just a little bit tighter and get creative with our menus for a few months knowing that in the grand scheme of things it's not such a big deal.

Breath in, Breath out.

I keep on, keeping on; making meals, changing diapers, cleaning house, bathing children, watering the garden, walk to church, fellowship, love, smile.

Listen.

I close my eyes and the lyrics wash over me like a refreshing rain, especially when she sings them!

"In the middle of my little mess I forget how big I'm blessed."

And they ring so true...because we'll get there. Eventually.

**The Star**

The Star

Twinkle, twinkle, little star,

How I wonder what you are!

Up above the world so high,

Like a diamond in the sky.

When the blazing sun is gone,

When he nothing shines upon,

Then you show your little light,

Twinkle, twinkle, all the night.

Then the traveller in the dark,

Thanks you for your tiny spark,

He could not see which way to go,

If you did not twinkle so.

In the dark blue sky you keep,

And often through my curtains peep, 

For you never shut your eye,

Till the sun is in the sky.

As your bright and tiny spark,

Lights the traveller in the dark-

Though I know not what you are,

Twinkle, twinkle, little star.

poem written by Jane Taylor 1783-1824

While reading this poem to my daughter today I was struck by it's simplicity and the fact that we often times only know in part what was meant to be read as a whole.  It reminds me of how truly great is the God I serve and how wondrous His plans.  Right now I see in part, but someday the bigger picture (the rest of the poem) will be made clear and we will see His fullness.  Oh how I long for that day!

April

We are ten days into April already, and spring is upon us!

I love the spring time.  There's new life budding all around me.  I see it in the blooms on the trees, I hear it from the new tweets in the nests overhead, and I touch the swelling bellies of so many of my dear friends.  

Each new year starts in the dead of winter.  January 1st. That day when we view life as a clean slate and a new year begins.  By April many of our resolutions have gone by the wayside and have already been forgotten; but not God's.  He takes His time.  He's patient.  Each drop of rain, each gentle breeze, each ray of sunshine is calculated.  He's working a masterpiece.

Psalm 35:9 

Then my soul will rejoice in the LORD 

and delight in his salvation.

Comfort

It's a basic human need... comfort.

We see it in children all the time, but there's something about being so real, so raw, that we as adults tend to avoid.  It's like we don't want anyone to know that we are hurting.  As if somehow showing our insecurities will make us more vulnerable to put downs.

I think about my son and his comfort.  It's obvious.

He loves his thumb and he loves his bellybutton.  There's something very soothing to him about these two things.  He does it when he's sad, when he's tired, when he's bored...or pretty much without thinking anymore.  I look at him and I see his desire for comfort.  He loves to curl up in my lap sucking his thumb and playing with his bellybutton.  (I like it too.)  He's not ashamed to come to me with a hurt, whether it be physical or emotional.  He's pretty transparent.

I wish we could be more like that.  More like that woman, who when asked told Him the whole truth. Or the man who was not ashamed and didn't care who heard him shouting; he desired comfort..."Jesus, Son of David. Have mercy on me."  Maybe even this man who despite his position came looking for help and for compassion.  Now I realize that these people were opening themselves to Christ Jesus himself, and obviously it would be easier to be vulnerable to Him; but are we not His body?  When we open ourselves up and take a good long look at our weaknesses, shouldn't we take them to Him and in turn be comforted by His arms embracing us through His sons and daughters?  Should I be ashamed to suck my thumb in your presence, to show that I am scared, hurting, and needing consolation? Or can I cry out and not be ashamed that you hear me saying...

"Jesus, Son of David. Have mercy on me." 

"Jesus, Son of David. Have mercy on me." 

"Jesus, Son of David. Have mercy on me." 

"Jesus, Son of David. Have mercy on me." 

What Great Hair Tells Me....

Today I fear I'm going to greatly embarrass my mom. She recently gave me a bunch of pictures to scan in the computer and hopefully scrapbook. This picture of her is one of my all time favorites! Pictured with her is my oldest sister and my brother (who greatly favors my son in this picture).

But what I most wanted to point out was my mom's great hair!

Isn't it the coolest? She worked as a hair stylist full time when she graduated from high school and then cosmetology school.  I think it's evident in how incredibly perfect her hair is in this picture.  I wish it were in full color so you could see the great highlights as well, but the black and white also lends to the nostalgic quality of this photo.  Every time I look at this picture I swell up with pride.  That's MY mom!  At the time a single mother of two small children, & she took the time to do her hair and look her best.  (And not just for the picture! She looked like this all the time... amazing!)  She inspires me to do better and to do more.
  It makes me reflect not just on my own hairdo (90% of the time, a ponytail.) but also what my kids will think when they look back on "old" photos of me  The song Legacy comes to my mind and it reminds me that this job I have is so much bigger than me; so much bigger than the here and now. When I look into the eyes of my oldest child I see myself reflected back in a mirror image that is 26 years younger, 26 years more innocent, 26 years more child like, and I wonder what will she be thinking as she approaches her 32nd birthday? Sometimes I marvel at how my biggest accomplishment so far in this life has happened so completely outside of me!!! He is so faithful.  No matter what my hair looks like, or how not put together I feel sometimes,

 if I leave a legacy in this world it will not be because of me; it will be in spite of me!

Before And After

One of my side bar items is titled "Before and After, how the past can change the future". I've only written a few posts on this subject. I'm not sure if that's because of lack of inspiration or if I've not really thought too much about it lately. However, every time my parents come to visit I am reminded of how much the past really does effect the future!

I've been going through my "memory box" that they brought to me this trip. (Which somehow expanded to four boxes over the years!) Baby shower well wishes, kindergarten papers, third grade reports, newspaper clippings, scads of programs from the years of recitals and performances, journals kept in teenage script, pictures, letters from dear ones, pressed flowers, pointe shoes and keepsakes, have all dusted off corners of my mind that have been closed for quite some time now. I've always been sentimental and yet I try to be a "live in the now" kind of person. This week though I've let myself slip back. Some of the memories have been beautiful, others deeply painful, but all of them have been a sweet reminder of Him.

I've not journaled much recently, but today I lay on my bed journaling away like I did as a teen. How different my scroll is now years later, and the ink rolls from my pen in interrupted strokes. The difference is not just in how I write, or about whom, but rather the security with which I address the page. You see, like everyone of us I was a searching teenager. (What I thought I was looking for, I'm not quite sure!) The words that filled the pages were daily happenings, emotional trappings and more often than not, questions... more than once I penned "I'm so confused".

Fifteen years of experiences later, I'm not confused anymore. The same Truth that I was looking for then is ever present in my life right now. I knew Him to be True then, but I had to have years of dependence upon that Truth to really trust it. It's strength had not been fully tested and It's power was not fully known (still isn't!). But isn't that the beauty of this life? We have the freedom and the ability to completely make our own choices, to listen to the wisdom of those who have gone before, or to rely totally & completely on an invisible safety net...

I wouldn't trade my teen years for anything. Every experience in my life has lead me to where I am now and it is a very good place. The pain has made me stronger and the good memories bolster me in making good memories with my own children.

I would encourage you to take the time every now and then to take a look back... if you let it, it can change your future!

WD40

I've been out of commission for a while, and don't really anticipate being back to my normal self for at least another week. Today as I lay in my bed trying to rest, I heard my children rolling around in the rest of the house. It was all I could do to stay and rest, to not resolve the conflict about to implode in the hallway. As I lay there pondering my absence and now my lightweight role at home I smiled. It's what I've always wanted. They can get along fine without me, I want them to be independent souls as well as children who can take instruction from other authorities. But they still need me.

My role as mom is to be the WD40 of our home, to make the household function.

In my absence dinners have been lovingly prepared and school work has dutifully been done, diapers have been changed and dishes washed, but the fluid movement that is our day is different when I'm not here.

Selfishly, I'm glad. We all know that we are needed, but sometimes as a mommy you wonder, "What would it be like if I weren't doing ________ (fill in the blank)". We know the truth, that we serve a much bigger role than we could ever really imagine, but when you see with your own eyes the hole that you leave it solidifies that knowledge.

Today however, do me a favor. Since I've seen it from a place I'd rather not be would you please trust me? You are a treasure. You are a foundation. You are of greater worth than you could ever imagine. You are the precision needed for your home. You are the WD40!

A Safe Place

Isn't it funny how simplest things cause you to contemplate life and it's complexities?

The other day my son, now two years old, did nothing out of the ordinary. He picked out his favorite book, wiggled himself squarely into my lap, leaned into my chest putting his thumb in his mouth and his finger in his belly button quite content indeed. I inhaled deeply the scent of him and the outside world seemed to melt away. I kissed his fuzzy head and slowly opened the favored book to begin reading a story I can say by heart. He's two. He's transitioned to "toddler", but he's still my baby and as I finished reading the book and he says "de end!", he hops down off my lap and I almost cry.

You see, I love it when he does this. I love to be his place of peace. I love that he's comfortable here. I love that my lap, with arms supporting on either side in a constant hug is one of his favorite places to sit. I love that he fights for this space when older sisters have claimed it and he says "No, Dowa. No Dacy, Sammy turn!". I love that his comfort comes from my embrace when he's hurt, sad, or just woke up from his nap. It's safe there. He fits there. He belongs there... for now. Someday he will "outgrow" my lap.

It's so easy for me to see this with my son. It's not so easy to see when I'm on the other end. When I'm the one who has become so independent that I don't seek out that safe place as often. But He loves it when I do. He loves that His arms are the ones that I run to, that support me in a constant hug. He loves when I fight for that space when the day to day activities of life threaten to claimed that time. He wants me to be comfortable there. No pressure, no guilt, no pleading, but the constant desire to always have me near.

He wants me.

It's the simple things in life that make you contemplate it's complexities...

Blessed

Today has been a good day.

The laundry is done, the kitchen sink is free from dirty dishes, and the children were excited about school. I put on a pair of Old Navy gauchos that I bought at a thrift store for 25 cents, and they look fantastic! After being "car less" for two days, my husband brought our only vehicle home from the shop. I know not every day will be like this so I take delight in the fact that today has been a good day.
Every day is the opportunity, the chance to do something great. Our Father wipes the slate clean and extends new mercies each and every morning. What a comfort. What a joy. (Especially on those days when things look dim)
Yesterday my amazing husband asked this question on his FaceBook status: "What will you be about today?" It's the question we should ask ourselves each and every morning when we wake up. Not to wonder about the never ending task list of things to accomplish, not what will you do, but rather what will you BE.
Today, as it has been a good day, I have been praise. As we lit our candle to begin our school day we sang a song and I thought about praise. As my younger daughter took to drawing in her journal with exuberance, I was about praising her excitement and a job well done. And for the first time in a long time I didn't focus on what I had to get done. For that He gets praise!

What will you be today?

"Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ!" 1 Peter 1:3

Emotional

Three simple colors; red, white and blue,

and yet they provoke a sense of pride.

Simply organized stars and well patterned stripes,

but somehow it makes me tear up.

It's just fabric blowing in the wind,

however I see sacrifice.

It's only a song,

but it's history is deep.

We call it the "Fourth of July",

but really it's Independence Day.

So much pride, so many tears, so many sacrifices

have peppered our history to give us our independence!

Happy Independence Day.

Reflector

Corinthians 3:18

"And we with unveiled faces all REFLECT the Lord's glory."

This weeks is our kids camp at Church.

I am teaching the kindergarden and first grade kids.

I may not have time to blog and reflect my thoughts here, but know that I will be back with you shortly after I'm done hanging out with SIXTY 5-7 year olds this week!

May you ponder HIS greatnes and HIS reflection in YOU!!!

unexpected surprises

I planted a garden this year, and it's growing fabulosly.

This I expected.

Great soil, plenty of rain, and warm California sunshine. What I didn't expect was the four year old watermellon seeds to take root
OUTSIDE of my planter box!

Don't you just LOVE unexpected surprises?

Throwback Thursday

Do you ever take the time to ponder the world of digital photography?

It's pretty amazing. Tonight I uploaded to our external hard-drive the pictures and video clips from our camera. (I even put some of them on Facebook for friends and family to see). The world of computers that we live in truly is a marvel. To know how far the technology in photography has come in just the past 60 years makes you wonder where it will go in the next 60.

Growing up my dad had two really old cameras. Every once in a while he would get them out and let us look at them. He would oh so carefully open the case and with his pen as a pointer, show us the intricate details of how the cameras once took pictures. The brown leather case was old and worn. I used to think how fun it would be to have copies of all the pictures that camera had taken. I wonder who first owned it. How did they come by it? Did they save for ages to buy it? Was it a gift?

To have a camera in your possession, to take pictures at home was a big deal in the 1920's. And though it became more common to own a camera as the 1950's and 60's arrived, to look at the quality of the photographs makes you again curious about the technology. I remember as a child posing for a "photo shoot" in my living room holding a pink carnation in my teeth, dressed to the nines with my hair and make up graciously done by my older sister. I was a star. Snap, click, whirr, slowly the camera would spit out the photo, and we would carefully hold the edges and set it on the stereo to dry and develop. Just like that, I was a star.

Today, I snap a picture and my 21 month old baby mimics his sisters by saying "see it". Click , "hang on, just a second, let me hit the playback button" says photographer. Giggles. They are stars.

Will they ever see the photo printed? Maybe not, but I think it holds the same fascination for them as it did for me.

Today I'm grateful for the advancement in photography. (And for people who use it well! Like her, her and her!Oh, and her and her too!)

I'm grateful that I can take a picture in my memory as well as on a nice little pocket sized rectangle!

The Promise

"Draw near to God and He WILL draw near to you." James 4:8 (emphasis mine)

What a promise.  There are times that I "feel" far from God, times when I seem so spiritually dry.  It's in times like this that I hold to the promise of God.  If I can humble myself, and draw nearer to Him,  He will move as well.  I liken this to a marriage in which both partners make the effort.  The responsibility of relationship is not a burden that rests solely on me. Nor does it lay entirely upon Him.  It is indeed a shared responsibility.

Recently I have been reading in Richard Foster's book, Celebration of Discipline.  Oh what deep wells of wisdom to draw from!  The spiritual disciplines have not been stressed in my faith tradition and though I was aware of the promise earlier stated I don't believe I've ever really known how to draw myself to Him until now.  Meditation. Prayer.  Fasting.  Study. Simplicity.  Submission.  Solitude.  Service.  Confession.  Worship.  Guidance.  Celebration. 

Disciplines to live out, to love and embrace so that you and I can be blessed by the Promise!

Preparing for Easter

Normally at this time I'm focused on pretty dresses, new white shoes, bunnies, colorful eggs and entirely too much chocolate.  This year, things are different.  I have not brought out the baskets, the plastic eggs my kids so enjoy or the little tree from which tiny wooden painted bunnies and eggs dangle.  They've stayed tucked away.  I brought out purple curly ribbon in an attempt at a reminder. Asking the children to help me tie it on things that open.  Together we made crosses from twigs in the back yard.  But it's not enough. It's never enough.  My desire to do good deepens the knowledge of how bad I truly am.  How can one prepare for Easter?  Is it within our ability to prepare?  Or is that the point...?  All we can do is wait.  Anticipate, and wait.

A few years ago I was blessed to play the part of Mary Magdalene in our church's production of the Easter Story.  As I approached the tomb I placed myself there. To bury my Lord.  I cried.  It became real to me.  As the "angel" spoke the words "He is not here..." and the crowd waited for my solo to begin a swell rose within my soul.  He. Is. Not. Here.  HE IS RISEN!  The words that came from my mouth suddenly echoed what was in my heart...You have turned my mourning into dancing!  He arose.  He lives.  We anticipate this day, this celebration knowing the outcome, knowing the happy ending to the sad story.  Knowing that it doesn't end with our shortcomings (Praise God!) but with His mercies, His sacrifice for ALL and with His unconditional love.

Please join Ann as we prepare for Easter.

Of First Importance...

What is most important to you?  Sometimes I think it's crucial that we take time to focus, reflect and ponder this question.  I was taught from a very young age to "keep first things first", and "seek first His Kingdom", and these phrases while impressed upon my mind often have a way of slipping my heart so to speak.


In 1 Corinthians 15:1-4 it says:   "Now, brothers, I want to remind you of the gospel I preached to you, which you received and on which you have taken your stand. By this gospel you are saved, if you hold firmly to the word I preached to you. Otherwise, you have believed in vain.

For what I received I passed on to you as of first importance: that Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures, that he was buried, that he was raised on the third day according to the Scriptures"

There are so many areas in my life that seem so very important, and they are very important, but they are not of first importance.  I forget that sometimes.  I'm a ministers wife and all that that entails. I'm a stay at home mother of three, and all that that embodies.  But first and foremost I am a child of God.  Sharing Him, His love and His sacrifice should be on my "list" of things to do, but frequently it slips down to a lesser priority.
I wish that I were a writer that could articulate like Ann, or Elise.  But I'm not...yet.  I wish I were a speaker like Kathi.  But I'm not... yet.  Maybe I never will be.  When I was a sophomore at a small Christian College, I took a class called Personal Spiritual Development.  We took a spiritual gifts assessment. I was so disappointed when my test came back.  I wanted so badly to have an "important" gift.  Exhortation.  That was my area of giftedness.  At the time, I didn't think it was anything special, but that was over ten years ago.  Do you know what I've learned in the past few years?  People need exhortation.  People need to be encouraged.  Proverbs speaks often of the use of our words:  "A word aptly spoken is like apples of gold in settings of silver." Proverbs 25:11  And in Philemon (1:4-7) Paul himself speaks to what encouragement does for him, "I always thank my God as I remember you in my prayers, because I hear about your faith in the Lord Jesus and your love for all the saints. I pray that you may be active in sharing your faith, so that you will have a full understanding of every good thing we have in Christ. Your love has given me great joy and encouragement, because you, brother, have refreshed the hearts of the saints."
  It's time.  It's time for me to finally embrace the exhortation gift.  To learn how to use the talent God has given me for His glory, His great good.  Could it be possible that a weekend could give me the tools I need to begin? I don't know, but I'm willing to find out.  Thank you for listening to me, for hearing my heart and my simple confession.  Thanks Lysa for the opportunity to dream.

I just recently found out about the She Speaks conference from Chatting at the Sky.  I don't know much about it, only what I've read on the website, but I know this: any time godly women get together to sharpen one another and encourage His gifts in one another, GOOD things come from it.

Lent

Time. Sacrifice. Hunger. Longing. Devotion. Temptation. Repentance. Desires. Self-less.

During this season of lent I find myself reflective. I'm not Catholic. I would even venture to say that others from my faith tradition think me odd for using the word, the concept, the practice of lent. And yet, I feel drawn to it.

"As the the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul longs after you, O God." Psalm 42:1

I also love that I've seen so many people "tailor" lent to fit what sacrifice will help them focus on Him, and His sacrifice. But each day as I give up, go without, and I fail to do it well I'm reminded of why I am participating in lent. Because if it were up to me I would fall short, I can't do it on my own. I need Him. My failure draws me closer to Him. My lack of self-control makes me dependent upon His grace, His perfection, His sacrifice.

Thank God.

Son

A girlfriend and I had our Sons three weeks apart. My first day back at Church I asked her how things were going and if she felt differently about her son than she did her daughter. I was so impressed by her response and realized the same would be true of me. She said she didn't feel any different about her son, but that she noticed her prayers were different.The responsibility of raising a son had her pondering the differences that are born innate in these precious little beings. Her prayers for her daughter have always been kindness, peace, gentleness, beauty (inside & out), motherhood and family. In the short three week time she already noticed her prayers being for strength, leadership, protection, vision, fatherhood and family.

What a joy to have both a boy and a girl. To see God's perfect design in creating us male and female. What a blessing to be able to pray character qualities into the hearts of our children.

This post linked to Emily's Tuesday's Unwrapped.

The Humming Bird

I've rearanged my living room, again. But I think it will stay this way for a while. My desk now sits facing our large sliding glass door, covering the half that doesn't move. I can see our transformed backyard, and the children playing outside. It's now one of my favorite places in our home.

As I look outside I sometimes have fun reflections, sometimes I just smile overwhelmed by the blessing of three happy healthy children and sometimes I get a surprise.

Recently I have been visited by a beautiful green hummingbird. She's amazing. We have no feeder to attract her, nothing here that she particularly wants, she just comes to the window and hovers. I think it's for me! For each time I see her, I pause. I'm in awe of the intricasies of her, of her Creator, of how she though, busy stops for a moment.

I share no deep thoughts here today, simply this... He made it for me.

Clutter

One of the things that kept me and my friend Organization from becoming B.F.F.'s, is the thing that is currently a source of frustration in our home. It's clutter. It's such a weird word. Sometimes I wonder where these words come from. The Urban Dictionary defines it as this:

Clutter; Trash, just useless trash that is lying around that takes up space.

Initially, I tend to think this definition is bogus, because my clutter isn't trash! It's just "stuff" I haven't put away yet... right? I don't keep trash sitting around, and once I "de-clutter" everything is where it's supposed to be... right? But then my sister-in-law who lives with us said the other day "It's just hard to know where to find stuff since nothing really has a specific place." Hmmm, maybe I'm not as organized as I thought!

Last year I invested $20 of my husband's hard earned money in a roll top desk from craigslist. Initially I thought it was too big. I've since filled it. My desk is the "catch all" for things that are currently "without a home". The roll top has certainly helped keep the peace, but it hasn't solved the problem. Is clutter just trash? Or is there something deeper there that I am not seeing? In college I learned about the Spiritual Disciplines and what they meant for my life. Those lessons from long ago need to be re-visited.

A speaker named Kelli Wilson came to our M.O.P.S group. She's a consultant, has her own business, and soon will be publishing her first book. In her talk she said something that really impacted me:

"Clutter is an outward expression of an inward state."

She hosts "Clutter Workshops", and I plan to attend one soon, because I don't like what this statement implies. I am not practicing Simplicity if there is constant clutter in my home. I am not at peace with the state of our home (though trust me I've come a loooooooooooong way!). The fact that clutter stresses my husband out has worked in my favor. I try to speak his love language and de-clutter the house before he gets home. I simply do not see the clutter the way he does. I see only the clutter that bothers me! It's been a long road, but seven and a half years later I feel like I'm finally making a little bit of progress. Our home is less cluttered and more organized than it has been since combining all our "stuff" in 2002.



As I continue on this journey of becoming better aquainted with organization, I hope you will join me. Simplicity is a Spiritual Discipline, and one that I want to take part of more often. It will be a journey for sure. A journey that will take small steps, a journey of patience and grace that will be trying on all, and mostly a journey of prayer, as I seek to Glorify my Savior in a life of simplicity.