People tease me a lot for my difficulty in focusing. Whether it be on the conversation, planning something, organizing...I just don't have that focus trait that some people have. Then I fly into this thing called "HYPER FOCUS" where I'm completely and totally fixated on one thing. This is what many people call "tunnel vision" and it doesn't happen often. The good thing about hyper focus is that it served me well in trauma, and does today in the ICU when I have medical emergencies. It also is a great thing to have when I'm writing, as it keeps me on task. I don't get hyper focus in matters of the home, except maybe once or twice a year. The result is my house gets cleaned (more so than the usual laundry and vaccuum) and you may find me two days later exhausted and covered in dust from the vents or the attic. Not kidding. I clean the heck out of the place. And heck really builds up after a few months, let me tell you.
This is really not getting me to my subject, which is another hallmark sign of ADD, so I will just get to it and not bother with trying to sound poetic or finding the right segue. My subject, is of course, our focus. Mine. Ours. Yours. Where is it this Christmas? Is it on musicals and presentations, concerts and plays? If they center on Christ, that's a fine thing to be sure, but what of the Christ? Is it easy to give Him honour and glory and praise when we are focused on performance? Of course, Christ expects our best. I truly want to sing my best for Him. But does it sap my energy, and take away from the wonderful, solemn moments I spend with Him in quiet awe, in study, in prayer? The sad fact is, it does. An old song, "I Miss My Time With You" has these lyrics: "I miss my time with you / those moments together / I need to be with you each day / and it hurts to hear you say / you're too busy / busy trying to serve Me / but how can you serve me / when your spirit's empty?"
Sometimes we're so busy "being about our Father's business" that we don't take the time to find out exactly what it is He wants us to do. Do we spend time with Him, recognizing Him as our King? Do we spend private, personal time with Him? It isn't enough to show up at His house on Sundays and Wednesdays and do "the church thing". It isn't enough to "do good and charitable things" in the name of God. If you think so, try spending twice a week with you spouse, and make an occasional gesture in your spouse's honour, and see how that flies. This will not a marriage make. How much more so should we spend quiet, private, personal time with Him who loves us more that anything, looking into His face, praising Him, dancing with Him?
This Christmas is a time we have set aside for the purpose of honouring Christ and His gift to us. Besides the gift of His birth and death on the cross for our salvation, is the gift of Loved Ones. He loves for us to take pleasure in the things, and the relationships He blesses us with! It's our responsibility to love each other, which after love for God is the greatest command.
2000 years ago, Our Saviour left His Kingdom to live on this pile of rubbish called earth, to save filthy ignorant sinners and take us home with Him some day. He wasn't recognized as Saviour. He wasn't recognized as King. He wasn't even recognized by His own people. Make it your soul purpose to get to know Our Lord in a personal way, so when He comes again...you'll know His voice!
Saturday, December 24, 2005
Friday, December 16, 2005
The Broken Cookies
I spent much of the afternoon and this evening baking cookies. Every once in a great while, I just get a bug of some sort, and I want to bake. And bake I did. I made about 3 dozen peanut butter cookies, about 2 dozen no-bake (I guess I no-baked, too) and about 3 1/2 dozen Mocha Crinkles. I love to do that. I especially love mocha crinkles because not only are they yummy, they're just so darn cute! I'll add the recipe if you'd like-they're so easy! My husband came home late after running errands with our friend and minister to youth, Mark. The kids were with me, but they were getting ready to go see a movie with friends. So I listened to Christmas music on the satellite and had coffee. It was nice and peaceful, considering the normal chaos of Christmas.
Ashton and Brett came in while I was cooking and licked the bowls, and they wanted to sample the cookies. I told them to eat the ugly ones so that the ones that turned out pretty could be used in gift bags for friends, and for a Christmas Cookie exchange I'm going to on Sunday. They didn't complain. But now that they're at the movies and I long for family time, I wonder, why do we save all the best for people outside of our homes, and give our families what's left? I know my kids don't care if their cookies are shaped funny, or don't have enough powdered sugar. They taste the same, and they get to lick bowls and forks and beaters. (I sometimes even turn off the mixer first!)
I know that my family is a wonderful gift from God. I am glad that they are patient with me and don't worry too much when I give them my seconds. But I resolve to be a better wife and mom and from now on, I'll go to as much trouble making them pretty things-special things.
I'll just eat all of the broken ones myself.
Mocha Crinkles
1/12 c. firmly packed light brown sugar
1/2 c. vegetable oil
1/4 c. sour cream
1 egg
1 t. vanilla
1 3/4 c. all-purpose flour
3/4 c. unsweetened cocoa powder
2 t. instant espresso or coffee granules
1t. baking soda
1/4 t. salt
1/8 t. ground black pepper
1/2 c. powdered sugar
Preheat oven to 350. Beat brown sugar and oil in a medium bowl with electric mixer. Mix in sour cream, egg, and vanilla. Set aside. In another medium bowl mix flour, cocoa, espresso, baking soda, salt and pepper. Add the two mixes together and mix well. Refrigerate dough for 3-4 hours or until firm. Pour powdered sugar into small bowl. Set aside. Cut dough into little pieces (about 1") and roll into balls. Roll balls in powdered sugar, pressing into dough slightly. Bake on ungreased cookie sheet about 10 minutes until cookies "crack". Do NOT overbake! Cool on wire racks. Makes about 3 1/2 dozen small cookies.
Ashton and Brett came in while I was cooking and licked the bowls, and they wanted to sample the cookies. I told them to eat the ugly ones so that the ones that turned out pretty could be used in gift bags for friends, and for a Christmas Cookie exchange I'm going to on Sunday. They didn't complain. But now that they're at the movies and I long for family time, I wonder, why do we save all the best for people outside of our homes, and give our families what's left? I know my kids don't care if their cookies are shaped funny, or don't have enough powdered sugar. They taste the same, and they get to lick bowls and forks and beaters. (I sometimes even turn off the mixer first!)
I know that my family is a wonderful gift from God. I am glad that they are patient with me and don't worry too much when I give them my seconds. But I resolve to be a better wife and mom and from now on, I'll go to as much trouble making them pretty things-special things.
I'll just eat all of the broken ones myself.
Mocha Crinkles
1/12 c. firmly packed light brown sugar
1/2 c. vegetable oil
1/4 c. sour cream
1 egg
1 t. vanilla
1 3/4 c. all-purpose flour
3/4 c. unsweetened cocoa powder
2 t. instant espresso or coffee granules
1t. baking soda
1/4 t. salt
1/8 t. ground black pepper
1/2 c. powdered sugar
Preheat oven to 350. Beat brown sugar and oil in a medium bowl with electric mixer. Mix in sour cream, egg, and vanilla. Set aside. In another medium bowl mix flour, cocoa, espresso, baking soda, salt and pepper. Add the two mixes together and mix well. Refrigerate dough for 3-4 hours or until firm. Pour powdered sugar into small bowl. Set aside. Cut dough into little pieces (about 1") and roll into balls. Roll balls in powdered sugar, pressing into dough slightly. Bake on ungreased cookie sheet about 10 minutes until cookies "crack". Do NOT overbake! Cool on wire racks. Makes about 3 1/2 dozen small cookies.
Tuesday, December 06, 2005
If my kids are band nerds, then...
I must be a momma nerd. I don't know exactly. Tonite was the Moore Band Christmas
Concert. This included three Jr Highs and two High Schools. My boys are one of the Jr High bands and they have improved over 200%. Amazing! The oldest boy plays french horn, the youngest plays trombone.
I had the pleasure of sitting next to another momma nerd who apparently just got her first cell phone. And she was happy to USE it. Repeatedly. Not only that, but she wanted to talk about her phone with the six-year-old sitting next to her. And she had long legs that she couldn't keep off of my side. She kept hitting me with her knees. My husband, on the other side of me, wanted to make cute comments about all the band kids. "Hey, that kid on the french horn looks like Sam the Shepherd from Looney Toons!" I got to enjoy some of it, though. There were very few lowlights from the concert.
I was a bundle of nerves, though. My daughter, driving alone for all of three weeks, including errands and back and forth to school and church, had her first wreck today. I was home lounging with a new suspense thriller, when I got the call. She was crying, and it took a second to make sense of what she was saying. When I realized she was fine, she said that someone hit her and took off, and she was calling me from the nearest parking lot, and wanted to know what to do. Derek, half an hour overdue, was not picking up his cell and since my daughter had my car, I was stuck. I tried to rack my brain for ways to get there. My neighbor was asleep already, and it didn't dawn on me that the preacher's son and daughter in law, a good friend of mine, lived around the corner, as did our church's minister to students. So I set off on foot-only 3/4 mile, but that's a long way when your baby is scared and it's getting to be close to 30 degrees out. I hardly noticed in my thin sweater and t-shirt. By the time I got there, the person who hit her had come back to the scene (she was actually turning around, not running, and had a special needs sister in her car, and was having trouble getting back to where the collision occured). My daughter had exchanged the proper info as the police on the phone told her to, and they were all waiting on me to drag my raggedy out of shape self there.
Turns out I have some serious rear-end problems. Me and my car. I will have to call the insurance people tomorrow and get it taken care of, which I really hate because there's no cosmetic damage that can't be wiped off with some bug-off, but the car isn't drivable. It sways when you drive. But all in all, the damages are few. Thank God for His protection! There's no such thing as a "little collision" when your kid is in it.
How much more, then, does our Father love us? As passionately and desperately as we love our children and want what's best, it doesn't begin to compare to God's love for us. He wants what is best. Even when it doesn't seem so at the time. As you go through hardships remember that they come to us lovingly thru God's filter. He loves us and is taking care of us, and gives His angels charge over us.
Thank you God, that I'm sitting in my warm house, safe with all my babies, sipping egg nog and reminiscing about the day, and looking forward to the snow tomorrow. Please continue to keep us safe, and help us to walk close to You always. Amen.
Concert. This included three Jr Highs and two High Schools. My boys are one of the Jr High bands and they have improved over 200%. Amazing! The oldest boy plays french horn, the youngest plays trombone.
I had the pleasure of sitting next to another momma nerd who apparently just got her first cell phone. And she was happy to USE it. Repeatedly. Not only that, but she wanted to talk about her phone with the six-year-old sitting next to her. And she had long legs that she couldn't keep off of my side. She kept hitting me with her knees. My husband, on the other side of me, wanted to make cute comments about all the band kids. "Hey, that kid on the french horn looks like Sam the Shepherd from Looney Toons!" I got to enjoy some of it, though. There were very few lowlights from the concert.
I was a bundle of nerves, though. My daughter, driving alone for all of three weeks, including errands and back and forth to school and church, had her first wreck today. I was home lounging with a new suspense thriller, when I got the call. She was crying, and it took a second to make sense of what she was saying. When I realized she was fine, she said that someone hit her and took off, and she was calling me from the nearest parking lot, and wanted to know what to do. Derek, half an hour overdue, was not picking up his cell and since my daughter had my car, I was stuck. I tried to rack my brain for ways to get there. My neighbor was asleep already, and it didn't dawn on me that the preacher's son and daughter in law, a good friend of mine, lived around the corner, as did our church's minister to students. So I set off on foot-only 3/4 mile, but that's a long way when your baby is scared and it's getting to be close to 30 degrees out. I hardly noticed in my thin sweater and t-shirt. By the time I got there, the person who hit her had come back to the scene (she was actually turning around, not running, and had a special needs sister in her car, and was having trouble getting back to where the collision occured). My daughter had exchanged the proper info as the police on the phone told her to, and they were all waiting on me to drag my raggedy out of shape self there.
Turns out I have some serious rear-end problems. Me and my car. I will have to call the insurance people tomorrow and get it taken care of, which I really hate because there's no cosmetic damage that can't be wiped off with some bug-off, but the car isn't drivable. It sways when you drive. But all in all, the damages are few. Thank God for His protection! There's no such thing as a "little collision" when your kid is in it.
How much more, then, does our Father love us? As passionately and desperately as we love our children and want what's best, it doesn't begin to compare to God's love for us. He wants what is best. Even when it doesn't seem so at the time. As you go through hardships remember that they come to us lovingly thru God's filter. He loves us and is taking care of us, and gives His angels charge over us.
Thank you God, that I'm sitting in my warm house, safe with all my babies, sipping egg nog and reminiscing about the day, and looking forward to the snow tomorrow. Please continue to keep us safe, and help us to walk close to You always. Amen.
Monday, December 05, 2005
I'm not really taking back what I said...not really...
I don't know that my decision to boycott non-Christian companies who refuse to acknowledge Christmas was a great idea...and I will own up to it. I'm not so certain my frustration comes from them not promoting Christian things as it is that they are just plain cutting them out. I don't believe everyone should believe the way I do. I'm certainly ok with individuality, and in fact would be pretty sick if the world were just like me. I like me ok, but you know, too much of a good thing...as it were.
I read a great college newspaper article today about taking the individuality out of everything. Instead of us trying to make everything the same, why don't we acknowledge (and enjoy) all of the differences? I'm not saying that we should say, "Oh, look, holiday without Jesus is just ok." But I don't get to insist that atheist purchase and display a Holy Nativity; I have to pray for opportunities to share. Christ Himself shared the gospel in love, and left the decision up His audience. Maybe it was my intention all along, but I jump on angry band wagons without thinking it through. My friend, I am Peter and that's a sword in my hand. I still think it's a shame that we are trying to be all-inclusive by making it all one big thing. A Christmas tree (which is secular, by the way) is still a Christmas tree. They don't use them in Kwanzaa or Hanukkah. The writer of the article said, "I would never place a mennorah in my window and declare it a 'Holiday candelabra'." Good point.
So how does one share the love of God with others without taking God out of the conversation? Surely I (especially I) am not living so brightly that people look at me and think, "Oh! Christian! I'll have what she's having!" How will they (whomever 'they' are) know if I don't tell them? Because in the end it's the same answer: life without Jesus is pointless. I will make it then, a priority to share as God allows and leave the life-changing and decision-making up to Him and them. Colossians 4:5-6 "Be wise in the way you act with people who are not believers, making the most of every opportunity. When you talk, you should always be kind and pleasant so you will be able to answer everyone in the way you should."
Thanks for leaving my head mostly intact and letting me explain myself. God is good, Christ is Christmas, and as Ebenezer Scrooge says, "You keep Christmas in your way, and I'll keep Christmas in mine."
And they will know us by our fruitcake.
I read a great college newspaper article today about taking the individuality out of everything. Instead of us trying to make everything the same, why don't we acknowledge (and enjoy) all of the differences? I'm not saying that we should say, "Oh, look, holiday without Jesus is just ok." But I don't get to insist that atheist purchase and display a Holy Nativity; I have to pray for opportunities to share. Christ Himself shared the gospel in love, and left the decision up His audience. Maybe it was my intention all along, but I jump on angry band wagons without thinking it through. My friend, I am Peter and that's a sword in my hand. I still think it's a shame that we are trying to be all-inclusive by making it all one big thing. A Christmas tree (which is secular, by the way) is still a Christmas tree. They don't use them in Kwanzaa or Hanukkah. The writer of the article said, "I would never place a mennorah in my window and declare it a 'Holiday candelabra'." Good point.
So how does one share the love of God with others without taking God out of the conversation? Surely I (especially I) am not living so brightly that people look at me and think, "Oh! Christian! I'll have what she's having!" How will they (whomever 'they' are) know if I don't tell them? Because in the end it's the same answer: life without Jesus is pointless. I will make it then, a priority to share as God allows and leave the life-changing and decision-making up to Him and them. Colossians 4:5-6 "Be wise in the way you act with people who are not believers, making the most of every opportunity. When you talk, you should always be kind and pleasant so you will be able to answer everyone in the way you should."
Thanks for leaving my head mostly intact and letting me explain myself. God is good, Christ is Christmas, and as Ebenezer Scrooge says, "You keep Christmas in your way, and I'll keep Christmas in mine."
And they will know us by our fruitcake.
Wednesday, November 30, 2005
IT'S NOT A HOLIDAY!!
What's the deal with everybody wanting to quit Christmas? Why is it just a holiday now? My kids go on winter break from school. Someone's throwing a fit because the President wants to call that big pine with lights on the front lawn of the White House a "Christmas" tree!! Retailers won't acknowledge Christmas, let alone Christ. The same government that wants to remove all Christianity from the holiday is happy to take the Christmas Break and get paid for it.
I say we all pack it up, grab our families and some lunch, and head to some uncharted territory somewhere and make our own country with our own government, where we can worship God the way we want to.
OH WAIT!! WE ALREADY DID THAT!!!!!
And here we are, in our own land, being told how we will worship, celebrate, pray, and gather. I once had a Sunday School teacher who told me to "HIDE THE WORDS OF GOD IN MY HEART" because someday I wouldn't be free to read the Bible. I was scared then, but now I really see that it could be a possibility in the very near future. I'm mad now. I'm fighting mad. I know this isn't a patriotic holiday, but now more than ever it's evident that our freedom is at stake. I'm ready to fight for my freedom. I'm ready to stand up for my God and my Country and say that if you don't want to celebrate Christ's birth, fine. There's a nice warm resort waiting for you at the end of your life, and you will be as far from Him as you can possibly be.
Retailers, get over yourselves. You are willing to make billions of dollars off of American families who celebrate Christmas, so you need to be dancing a jig and singing the Happy Fat Wallet Christmas Song, and thanking God for His blessings. Advertisers, you are numbing everyone's minds with your holiday jingles and messages that we are bad parents if we don't buy our kids Xboxes and flat screen tvs and cell phones and portable DVD players...and then are so very careful to not offend all the other faiths. Cults. Whatever. HELLO? Do you know that more people claim Christianity than any other faith??? Why are we not screaming at the top of our lungs? Why are the billions of us not boycotting retailers at Christmas? I guarantee you if we spent one Christmas toy and gadget and electronic free, the retailers would hear, we would spend quality time with those we love, and GOD would be the center of His birthday party. Retailers aren't scared because they know we won't stand up. We can scream, but we will be there handing our money over saying "Oh, go ahead. I haven't the imagination to make mine a non-commercial Christmas."
I hate to send out such negativity. I like uplifting, happy e-votions. But right now I'm neither happy or uplifted. I want us to band together, or maybe even start a band together! and I want to fight and kick and scream! I want to celebrate Christmas! I want Jesus to be the center of the celebration!
Or we could stick Him in a box under our holiday tree.
By the way, whether the world acknowledges Him or not...He's still Christ the King and He's coming back for us! Hope it's not during the holiday...
"If My people who are called by My Name shall humble themselves and pray and seek My face and turn from their wicked ways, then will I hear from Heaven and will forgive their sin, and heal their land."
"And you shall call His name Immanuel, God with Us." Whether you want Him there or not.
I say we all pack it up, grab our families and some lunch, and head to some uncharted territory somewhere and make our own country with our own government, where we can worship God the way we want to.
OH WAIT!! WE ALREADY DID THAT!!!!!
And here we are, in our own land, being told how we will worship, celebrate, pray, and gather. I once had a Sunday School teacher who told me to "HIDE THE WORDS OF GOD IN MY HEART" because someday I wouldn't be free to read the Bible. I was scared then, but now I really see that it could be a possibility in the very near future. I'm mad now. I'm fighting mad. I know this isn't a patriotic holiday, but now more than ever it's evident that our freedom is at stake. I'm ready to fight for my freedom. I'm ready to stand up for my God and my Country and say that if you don't want to celebrate Christ's birth, fine. There's a nice warm resort waiting for you at the end of your life, and you will be as far from Him as you can possibly be.
Retailers, get over yourselves. You are willing to make billions of dollars off of American families who celebrate Christmas, so you need to be dancing a jig and singing the Happy Fat Wallet Christmas Song, and thanking God for His blessings. Advertisers, you are numbing everyone's minds with your holiday jingles and messages that we are bad parents if we don't buy our kids Xboxes and flat screen tvs and cell phones and portable DVD players...and then are so very careful to not offend all the other faiths. Cults. Whatever. HELLO? Do you know that more people claim Christianity than any other faith??? Why are we not screaming at the top of our lungs? Why are the billions of us not boycotting retailers at Christmas? I guarantee you if we spent one Christmas toy and gadget and electronic free, the retailers would hear, we would spend quality time with those we love, and GOD would be the center of His birthday party. Retailers aren't scared because they know we won't stand up. We can scream, but we will be there handing our money over saying "Oh, go ahead. I haven't the imagination to make mine a non-commercial Christmas."
I hate to send out such negativity. I like uplifting, happy e-votions. But right now I'm neither happy or uplifted. I want us to band together, or maybe even start a band together! and I want to fight and kick and scream! I want to celebrate Christmas! I want Jesus to be the center of the celebration!
Or we could stick Him in a box under our holiday tree.
By the way, whether the world acknowledges Him or not...He's still Christ the King and He's coming back for us! Hope it's not during the holiday...
"If My people who are called by My Name shall humble themselves and pray and seek My face and turn from their wicked ways, then will I hear from Heaven and will forgive their sin, and heal their land."
"And you shall call His name Immanuel, God with Us." Whether you want Him there or not.
Tuesday, November 29, 2005
Thursday, November 10, 2005
Fearfully and Wonderfully Made-God's words, not mine
Yippee!! Derek's grilling salmon tonite! I love when he grills. It means I don't have to cook. However, I'm trying to catch up with the dishes so we don't have to eat it out of bundt cake pans with measuring spoons. Not kidding. The dishwasher's broken and I don't function so well without it. He's also cooking grilled veggies, but I won't partake. My idea of a veggie is a baked potato. Starchy, I know. But who cares? It's yummy. My mom said vegetables wouldn't kill me and I needed to eat them. And here's what happened.
I found a veggie I liked. Artichoke. I ate it once or twice, and then took some to work with me at the emergency room where I was a nurse. Guess what. It almost killed me. About ten minutes after I ate it, with some chicken and pasta, my face felt tight, I got hot and sweaty, and my scalp felt like it was on fire. NOT in the good way either. I was standing near a physician's assistant (like doctor express) and I said, "Is my face red?" She turned and looked at me, and had the situation not been so potentially dangerous, she would have laughed out loud. It was like the scene in "Pure Luck" when Martin Short gets bee stung. Or like Wil Smith in "Hitch" where he has a food reaction. They got some meds pumped into me (do NOT take oral steroids without a sweet drink nearby) shot me with epinepherine, and just like that I got the rest of the day off. With a benadryl hangover. It's almost worth precariously clinging to life just to get half a day off. Ah, good times.
I'm eating salmon now because I'm supposed to increase my Omega-3's. And protein. Apparently I have adult ADD which means part of my brain is very low functioning. That would be the organization part of my brain, all you comedians. This explains why I'm bad at math and housework but still quite creative. I'm bad at planning, but react very efficiently in emergencies. It's why I use "thingy" in sentences a lot, because it's way easier than using valuable time to actually think of an appropriate word. Or why I'll need to yell for Derek while I'm looking at the clock, but I yell out "6:47!" rather than his name. Well, that may be something else entirely. I've always felt like a failure as a wife and mother because I don't seem to possess the ability to Martha Stewartize my house. My mom and sister are amazing decorators, cooks, and housekeepers. I'm not a bad cook, I just don't cook for crowds because I have to do it my own way, and people don't always understand my own way. So I'm left asking if I can just stir. My family will tell you it's my spiritual gift. Forget prophecy and shepherding. We need some really proficeint stirrers in the Kingdom. I AM THAT HERO!!
So it wasn't until the counselor told me to "only use my powers for good" that I started seeing the positive sides of my quirkiness. All the poor grades, the procrastination, the disorganization had a purpose. It was God's plan that my brain work the way it does. I do have to find other ways to have a pleasing household. I do need to be a good steward of my time, I just have to do it differently than others. But I was lovingly and precisely stitched together by God long before time began. He had a plan for my life, a plan not to harm me, but to prosper me. And you know what? I still can't figure out how people keep beds made or why we even bother, but I'm learing how to use my creative brain. I'm learning that the gift of laughter is good. I make people happy. I make people feel very normal and capable. I'm ok with that. I just need to figure out how to turn a profit so I can hire a cleaning lady. Although, Derek said if I ever made a million, he'd be my wife. He IS a good cook...
I found a veggie I liked. Artichoke. I ate it once or twice, and then took some to work with me at the emergency room where I was a nurse. Guess what. It almost killed me. About ten minutes after I ate it, with some chicken and pasta, my face felt tight, I got hot and sweaty, and my scalp felt like it was on fire. NOT in the good way either. I was standing near a physician's assistant (like doctor express) and I said, "Is my face red?" She turned and looked at me, and had the situation not been so potentially dangerous, she would have laughed out loud. It was like the scene in "Pure Luck" when Martin Short gets bee stung. Or like Wil Smith in "Hitch" where he has a food reaction. They got some meds pumped into me (do NOT take oral steroids without a sweet drink nearby) shot me with epinepherine, and just like that I got the rest of the day off. With a benadryl hangover. It's almost worth precariously clinging to life just to get half a day off. Ah, good times.
I'm eating salmon now because I'm supposed to increase my Omega-3's. And protein. Apparently I have adult ADD which means part of my brain is very low functioning. That would be the organization part of my brain, all you comedians. This explains why I'm bad at math and housework but still quite creative. I'm bad at planning, but react very efficiently in emergencies. It's why I use "thingy" in sentences a lot, because it's way easier than using valuable time to actually think of an appropriate word. Or why I'll need to yell for Derek while I'm looking at the clock, but I yell out "6:47!" rather than his name. Well, that may be something else entirely. I've always felt like a failure as a wife and mother because I don't seem to possess the ability to Martha Stewartize my house. My mom and sister are amazing decorators, cooks, and housekeepers. I'm not a bad cook, I just don't cook for crowds because I have to do it my own way, and people don't always understand my own way. So I'm left asking if I can just stir. My family will tell you it's my spiritual gift. Forget prophecy and shepherding. We need some really proficeint stirrers in the Kingdom. I AM THAT HERO!!
So it wasn't until the counselor told me to "only use my powers for good" that I started seeing the positive sides of my quirkiness. All the poor grades, the procrastination, the disorganization had a purpose. It was God's plan that my brain work the way it does. I do have to find other ways to have a pleasing household. I do need to be a good steward of my time, I just have to do it differently than others. But I was lovingly and precisely stitched together by God long before time began. He had a plan for my life, a plan not to harm me, but to prosper me. And you know what? I still can't figure out how people keep beds made or why we even bother, but I'm learing how to use my creative brain. I'm learning that the gift of laughter is good. I make people happy. I make people feel very normal and capable. I'm ok with that. I just need to figure out how to turn a profit so I can hire a cleaning lady. Although, Derek said if I ever made a million, he'd be my wife. He IS a good cook...
Thursday, November 03, 2005
Ridin' Fences (not what you think)
When I was a little girl, I would go horseback riding with my grandfather. He had a home in the country, a pasture in the city, and many different horses over the years. My first and last horse was Eagle. He lived to be the same age I am now. He died one month after my grandma did. I treasure those hours spent riding with Grandad. We had fun. I learned a lot about life, and about simplicity. About what it is to just...be. I remember one day it occurred to me that our horses were very big. Much bigger than I. I couldn't have been but 6 or so, and maybe just a few hands high. (Horse talk.) It was clear the horses weren't thrilled about having a piece of steel stuck in their mouths and then having a big leather saddle with a little rider on their backs. But every time, it was the same thing-Grandad sent me with the lead to bring in the horses we'd be riding, and they always went.
One day when we were riding fences (looking for breaks in the barbed wire where the cattle could escape onto the other ranchers land) I asked Grandad, "If the horses don't like us to ride them all the time, why don't they just throw us off and go home?"
"Well, I reckon" (that's what cowboys do, they 'reckon')"it's because they don't know they can."
"Why?" I asked.
"They think we're stronger."
This was too much for a little girl. Knowing that horses listen to the cowboys (they turn their ears back toward you when you talk) I told my little horse, "Runt-Runt, if you don't want me to ride you, why don't you just throw me off and run back to the barn?" Of course Runt-runt didn't. He just kept his little burden on his back and walked along beside Duke or Eagle, whoever Grandad was riding at the moment. A couple years later, Runt-runt was joined by a little paint named "Thunder" who had been mistreated. For the most part Thunder was a good boy, only one day he threw me, and learned what it meant to be chased down by a little red headed cowgirl with steam coming out her ears. It became my one focus to turn Thunder into a good saddle horse and to be obedient and accepting of his rider. It didn't take long!
Do you ever wonder why it is we so readily accept the burdens on our backs? We walk around with satan hounding us every moment and holding onto us with an unrelenting grip. Do you think it's because he knows...we don't know?
Don't we know that God has conquered death and hell? Don't we know that where we are weak, He is strong? Don't we know that satan's grip is tenuous at best? Don't we know that God holds all power over satan, and that we don't have to give in to him! We don't have to pack him around on our backs like beasts of burden, and yet here we are! Allowing him to control us, like a cowboy on a magnificent stallion! If only the horse knew! IF ONLY WE KNEW!!
Has satan convinced us he's stronger? I reckon!
One day when we were riding fences (looking for breaks in the barbed wire where the cattle could escape onto the other ranchers land) I asked Grandad, "If the horses don't like us to ride them all the time, why don't they just throw us off and go home?"
"Well, I reckon" (that's what cowboys do, they 'reckon')"it's because they don't know they can."
"Why?" I asked.
"They think we're stronger."
This was too much for a little girl. Knowing that horses listen to the cowboys (they turn their ears back toward you when you talk) I told my little horse, "Runt-Runt, if you don't want me to ride you, why don't you just throw me off and run back to the barn?" Of course Runt-runt didn't. He just kept his little burden on his back and walked along beside Duke or Eagle, whoever Grandad was riding at the moment. A couple years later, Runt-runt was joined by a little paint named "Thunder" who had been mistreated. For the most part Thunder was a good boy, only one day he threw me, and learned what it meant to be chased down by a little red headed cowgirl with steam coming out her ears. It became my one focus to turn Thunder into a good saddle horse and to be obedient and accepting of his rider. It didn't take long!
Do you ever wonder why it is we so readily accept the burdens on our backs? We walk around with satan hounding us every moment and holding onto us with an unrelenting grip. Do you think it's because he knows...we don't know?
Don't we know that God has conquered death and hell? Don't we know that where we are weak, He is strong? Don't we know that satan's grip is tenuous at best? Don't we know that God holds all power over satan, and that we don't have to give in to him! We don't have to pack him around on our backs like beasts of burden, and yet here we are! Allowing him to control us, like a cowboy on a magnificent stallion! If only the horse knew! IF ONLY WE KNEW!!
Has satan convinced us he's stronger? I reckon!
Thursday, October 20, 2005
The Unbreakable Cousin Chain
When I was a kid, my aunt, uncle and 2 girl cousins lived about 1/2 mile away from us. Our families would get together with some frequency for dinner, and the adults would play trivial pursuit and the kids, all girls, would just play. It was me, my sister Jennifer, and my cousins Tarisa and Tamra.
We had quite imaginations at that age. As the oldest I felt the entertainment rested on my shoulders. We would get a tape recorder and sing songs on it, then make up a "flea circus" and use the tape recorder as the background music for fleas by pushing the play button half way down. We would sing songs that I swear my grandad made up and make no sense whatsoever. We would sing the songs our mothers sang together in their mixed quartet or ladies trio, and even try to harmonize. We did this with puppets we bought on our trip to Canada.
Sometimes we would argue and fight, but mostly we just played and had a good time. We were all within about 5 years of each other age wise. At the end of the evening, we could tell it was about time to go home...someone had won the last pie in trivial pursuit. All they had to do was answer the final question and then clean up. This was our signal to form "the unbreakable cousin chain". We would run to the double bed (four small girls fit quite nicely) and lay side by side, and then entwine our arms and legs so that no adult could break us apart. We were certain of the power of the chain, and knew that the adults probably wouldn't even try to seperate us, so formidable was its strength. We knew that if we kept our eyes closed and remained very quiet, the adults would think we were so precious sleeping, and they would allow us to spend the night together. The Chain was just a back up plan to make them think twice about trying to move us.
There were days that we actually fell asleep before the parents would get there. Then there were days where we had to fight back the giggles that threatened to give us away, but our parents didn't know, and they would say, "Oh, they're asleep. Let's just leave them like that." And as they pulled the door shut we would celebrate quietly with a whispered "Yes!" not knowing they were just on the other side of the door, giggling themselves.
I have great memories of my childhood. Today, we cousins and sisters are all spread apart, except for me and Tarisa. Together we still have the strong bond of family and when attacked fly into "Cousin Chain Formation" really quick. It isn't as strong without Jennifer and Tamra, but we still believe in its power!
Speaking of strength, I serve a Mighty God. I know what my strength amounts to, even wrapped up with my sister and two cousins, compared to our parents. I'm really not strong at all. But when I stand behind The One who created me, and let Him entwine Himself in and around me, no foe can come against me that He can't handle. My strength rests in Him, and in my obedience to Him. Not me. Never me. Always Him. Phil 4:13
We had quite imaginations at that age. As the oldest I felt the entertainment rested on my shoulders. We would get a tape recorder and sing songs on it, then make up a "flea circus" and use the tape recorder as the background music for fleas by pushing the play button half way down. We would sing songs that I swear my grandad made up and make no sense whatsoever. We would sing the songs our mothers sang together in their mixed quartet or ladies trio, and even try to harmonize. We did this with puppets we bought on our trip to Canada.
Sometimes we would argue and fight, but mostly we just played and had a good time. We were all within about 5 years of each other age wise. At the end of the evening, we could tell it was about time to go home...someone had won the last pie in trivial pursuit. All they had to do was answer the final question and then clean up. This was our signal to form "the unbreakable cousin chain". We would run to the double bed (four small girls fit quite nicely) and lay side by side, and then entwine our arms and legs so that no adult could break us apart. We were certain of the power of the chain, and knew that the adults probably wouldn't even try to seperate us, so formidable was its strength. We knew that if we kept our eyes closed and remained very quiet, the adults would think we were so precious sleeping, and they would allow us to spend the night together. The Chain was just a back up plan to make them think twice about trying to move us.
There were days that we actually fell asleep before the parents would get there. Then there were days where we had to fight back the giggles that threatened to give us away, but our parents didn't know, and they would say, "Oh, they're asleep. Let's just leave them like that." And as they pulled the door shut we would celebrate quietly with a whispered "Yes!" not knowing they were just on the other side of the door, giggling themselves.
I have great memories of my childhood. Today, we cousins and sisters are all spread apart, except for me and Tarisa. Together we still have the strong bond of family and when attacked fly into "Cousin Chain Formation" really quick. It isn't as strong without Jennifer and Tamra, but we still believe in its power!
Speaking of strength, I serve a Mighty God. I know what my strength amounts to, even wrapped up with my sister and two cousins, compared to our parents. I'm really not strong at all. But when I stand behind The One who created me, and let Him entwine Himself in and around me, no foe can come against me that He can't handle. My strength rests in Him, and in my obedience to Him. Not me. Never me. Always Him. Phil 4:13
Monday, October 17, 2005
I'm Blocked
I'm writing, but you need to know it's under duress. I don't have a thing to say, I'm bored, I'm upset about my schedule being changed at work, and I have to work tomorrow and Wednesday. They know I don't work Wednesdays. What's the deal? If they keep it up I may quit and go write a book and go on a book tour.
I don't know what I'm saying. I'm tired and stressed. It's been a fun day, but I should be looking forward to my day off. Whine, ungrateful one. I've been off 5 days in a row.
What did I do? Um...nothing productive, I can tell you that. Derek is sitting here beside me reading my e-votions that I e-mail and laughing, so that's kinda good, but I gotta go to bed now and get ready for work. (Not in that order.) No clean socks or unders.
Spiritual point? None. I could use one right about now though. I can't think of a better time to pick up my bible. Can you?
I don't know what I'm saying. I'm tired and stressed. It's been a fun day, but I should be looking forward to my day off. Whine, ungrateful one. I've been off 5 days in a row.
What did I do? Um...nothing productive, I can tell you that. Derek is sitting here beside me reading my e-votions that I e-mail and laughing, so that's kinda good, but I gotta go to bed now and get ready for work. (Not in that order.) No clean socks or unders.
Spiritual point? None. I could use one right about now though. I can't think of a better time to pick up my bible. Can you?
Thursday, October 06, 2005
Don't Miss It!
It was January 2000. The Sooners had won another National Championship and all of Oklahoma was proud. I thought I'd take the kids to Norman to welcome home the football team, and let them see the players up close, maybe get some autographs. So with my dearest friend Jana and two 'tweens in tow, off we went to God's country, Memorial Stadium.
When we got there, it took forever to park. There were fans everywhere. It was a little icy as we'd just had a nice snow, and the ground was wet and muddy. Oklahoma red mud. Slush. Yuk. We made it to the stadium to wait with everyone and decided to take a quick tour because the kids had never been to a game in person. We went inside the stadium because it was open. I've never seen Owen Field covered in snow. It was an amazing sight, and we stood reverently where Oklahoma's Beloved Heroes had walked.
Just then we heard cheering. The bus had arrived with the players! I wasn't sure where to go, but we made our way toward the growing roar. I made it to the gate with kids trailing me, and as I tried to get out, these guys were trying to get in. It hadn't dawned on me we were the only ones left here, and as we tried to push back thru this sudden flock of men trying to get in, I realized everyone was probably with the players and we might miss them, or be lost in such a huge crowd. I excused myself and pushed thru like a champion running back at a goal line stand (not totally rude, but I think I gained respect from guys who outsized me quite a bit) and we were finally free to run to...wait, the roar of the fans was...gone...but...HEY!!! Did I just push thru the entire Sooner Football Lineup?
And the answer was yes. I was so intent on getting to where I was going that I didn't realize I was already there, missing the opportunity of a lifetime. And how obvious was it that I was a tiny mite walking amongst giants? Talk about missing the forest!!!
We are seeking for something everyday. For peace, comfort and happiness at the root of everything. But we are usually looking in the wrong places-in money, power, sex, or food. None of these things can fulfill the deepest desires of our heart. They can buy us things, make us feel good temporarily, but none of it leads to true inner peace. If you haven't found Him yet, Christ is right there, waiting to grant you the truest desire of your heart.
Is He In you?
When we got there, it took forever to park. There were fans everywhere. It was a little icy as we'd just had a nice snow, and the ground was wet and muddy. Oklahoma red mud. Slush. Yuk. We made it to the stadium to wait with everyone and decided to take a quick tour because the kids had never been to a game in person. We went inside the stadium because it was open. I've never seen Owen Field covered in snow. It was an amazing sight, and we stood reverently where Oklahoma's Beloved Heroes had walked.
Just then we heard cheering. The bus had arrived with the players! I wasn't sure where to go, but we made our way toward the growing roar. I made it to the gate with kids trailing me, and as I tried to get out, these guys were trying to get in. It hadn't dawned on me we were the only ones left here, and as we tried to push back thru this sudden flock of men trying to get in, I realized everyone was probably with the players and we might miss them, or be lost in such a huge crowd. I excused myself and pushed thru like a champion running back at a goal line stand (not totally rude, but I think I gained respect from guys who outsized me quite a bit) and we were finally free to run to...wait, the roar of the fans was...gone...but...HEY!!! Did I just push thru the entire Sooner Football Lineup?
And the answer was yes. I was so intent on getting to where I was going that I didn't realize I was already there, missing the opportunity of a lifetime. And how obvious was it that I was a tiny mite walking amongst giants? Talk about missing the forest!!!
We are seeking for something everyday. For peace, comfort and happiness at the root of everything. But we are usually looking in the wrong places-in money, power, sex, or food. None of these things can fulfill the deepest desires of our heart. They can buy us things, make us feel good temporarily, but none of it leads to true inner peace. If you haven't found Him yet, Christ is right there, waiting to grant you the truest desire of your heart.
Is He In you?
Wednesday, September 28, 2005
Ambiance
I can't believe autumn is here! When I walked out of church this evening and the wind was blowing and the "cold" front had moved in, I was so excited! I have been willing summer over by baking and eating pumpkin pie, and I went to Starbuck's with my best friend Jana and I had a pumpkin cream frappacino. Venti. Now, I usually don't go to Starbuck's because I don't enjoy the ambiance. It's kind of a little too...I don't know...clean? commercial? I just like going to non-chain places where the refills are free, the baristas like their jobs and smile and don't flip out when you have a special order...but this time it was fine.
Among my favorite coffee shops in the city are the now closed Old Judge Coffee Co.; Uncommon Grounds in Bricktown (probably my favorite) and Wholly Grounds (great Christian artists playing occasionally). I like the atmosphere at Java Dave's but I hate that you don't get free refills on the plain coffee. Chain thing, I guess. I can't stand any place smoky, and if the crowd is too young, too hip, I kinda feel like a soccer mom in a CD store. So I go where I'm comfortable.
I also like a place with a good gift selection. Java Dave's is, so far, the best out there. Something about shopping while drinking the perfect cup of coffee is a great combination. And doesn't coffee just taste better out of a mug than paper or styrofoam cups? Panera is great, but, alas, no shopping. But the crowd is definitely older, the atmosphere casual, and the furniture comfortable.
I wonder what people say about our churches when they visit? Was the atmosphere warm and inviting? Were the members willing to reach out and meet special needs, or do they fumble around with cue cards and wonder how to fit in this "difference"? Do we have lots of extras to offer, or are we a hymn and a message and a prayer and thank you for coming, see ya next time?
I want to have the kind of church that, like a coffee shop, would release a sweet aroma as soon as the door opens, and the members are warm and caring and able to help those who visit, where we meet individual needs with out cookie cutter solutions. Where there's variety, service, the Spirit is evident, and when people leave, they can't wait to come back, and bring a friend.
For the most part that's true. But we have to make service a priority.
Never take for granted the spiritual condition of a visitor. Make them feel welcome. Love on them as Christ would and be ready to take an order you've never heard of before. In short, be Jesus to them!
Among my favorite coffee shops in the city are the now closed Old Judge Coffee Co.; Uncommon Grounds in Bricktown (probably my favorite) and Wholly Grounds (great Christian artists playing occasionally). I like the atmosphere at Java Dave's but I hate that you don't get free refills on the plain coffee. Chain thing, I guess. I can't stand any place smoky, and if the crowd is too young, too hip, I kinda feel like a soccer mom in a CD store. So I go where I'm comfortable.
I also like a place with a good gift selection. Java Dave's is, so far, the best out there. Something about shopping while drinking the perfect cup of coffee is a great combination. And doesn't coffee just taste better out of a mug than paper or styrofoam cups? Panera is great, but, alas, no shopping. But the crowd is definitely older, the atmosphere casual, and the furniture comfortable.
I wonder what people say about our churches when they visit? Was the atmosphere warm and inviting? Were the members willing to reach out and meet special needs, or do they fumble around with cue cards and wonder how to fit in this "difference"? Do we have lots of extras to offer, or are we a hymn and a message and a prayer and thank you for coming, see ya next time?
I want to have the kind of church that, like a coffee shop, would release a sweet aroma as soon as the door opens, and the members are warm and caring and able to help those who visit, where we meet individual needs with out cookie cutter solutions. Where there's variety, service, the Spirit is evident, and when people leave, they can't wait to come back, and bring a friend.
For the most part that's true. But we have to make service a priority.
Never take for granted the spiritual condition of a visitor. Make them feel welcome. Love on them as Christ would and be ready to take an order you've never heard of before. In short, be Jesus to them!
Saturday, September 17, 2005
Coffee Snobs
I'm a coffee snob. Case in point:
If someone else made the coffee, it's probably not very good.
If it's in the orange handled carrafe, it's probably decaf and I'm not having it.
If I even think that someone may be re-using the old grounds...ouch, that hurts my brain!!
If there is a full pot of coffee left unattended I can assume it's old and throw it out and make fresh.
If you microwave coffee you're a freak. Go have tea.
I send Christmas and Valentine's cards to Juan Valdez and his donkey.
I like coffee in a mug. Not a cup.
Certain mugs have better tastes than others. (If it has a brown ring, even better...)
If you made me choose between coffee and chocolate my head would explode. That's like trying to choose between your kids.
I hate chocolate in my coffee. Wierd.
Know what happens when you leave a whole coffee bean in a cup of warm water and come back and check it in a few hours? You have a whole coffee bean in a cup of room temperature water.
The best kind of coffee is beans bought fresh, ground just before brewing with uncomfortably hot water, but never boiling, and is consumed within 10 minutes of brewing. That's what I know. You can't get coffee unless the process takes place.
The best kind of Christian is one who presents him/herself to God, whole, just as we are, and allows him/herself to be finely ground and washed over with the uncomfortably hot water of God's cleansing forgiveness. Only then do we produce the aroma and flavor we are meant to have. And only then are we pleasing to others. If we don't submit to God's process, we don't become the essence of what it is we were created to be. We are just whole beans floating around comfortably, missing the point, not fulfilling our purpose.
Where are you right now? Have you fought God's process? If so, submit to Him today, and see what He can do with a simple bean!!
If someone else made the coffee, it's probably not very good.
If it's in the orange handled carrafe, it's probably decaf and I'm not having it.
If I even think that someone may be re-using the old grounds...ouch, that hurts my brain!!
If there is a full pot of coffee left unattended I can assume it's old and throw it out and make fresh.
If you microwave coffee you're a freak. Go have tea.
I send Christmas and Valentine's cards to Juan Valdez and his donkey.
I like coffee in a mug. Not a cup.
Certain mugs have better tastes than others. (If it has a brown ring, even better...)
If you made me choose between coffee and chocolate my head would explode. That's like trying to choose between your kids.
I hate chocolate in my coffee. Wierd.
Know what happens when you leave a whole coffee bean in a cup of warm water and come back and check it in a few hours? You have a whole coffee bean in a cup of room temperature water.
The best kind of coffee is beans bought fresh, ground just before brewing with uncomfortably hot water, but never boiling, and is consumed within 10 minutes of brewing. That's what I know. You can't get coffee unless the process takes place.
The best kind of Christian is one who presents him/herself to God, whole, just as we are, and allows him/herself to be finely ground and washed over with the uncomfortably hot water of God's cleansing forgiveness. Only then do we produce the aroma and flavor we are meant to have. And only then are we pleasing to others. If we don't submit to God's process, we don't become the essence of what it is we were created to be. We are just whole beans floating around comfortably, missing the point, not fulfilling our purpose.
Where are you right now? Have you fought God's process? If so, submit to Him today, and see what He can do with a simple bean!!
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
Feeding Frenzy
"I set out to conquer the world but I got distracted by something shiny." -unknown
Such good intentions I have. I want to do a good thing, or do a thing good, but then somewhere along the way I lose focus. Or burn out or something.
I was at work the other day-pay day. I love pay day, but this was a special pay day. I worked overtime one shift which means I get a $25 Wal-Mart card in addition to my pay check. Now, my salary is nothing to get excited about, but up next to a $25 gift card, the difference is huge. So why in the world do we all get so excited about that piece of plastic? Oh, I know, it's extra, it's free, it's a 1/4 tank of gas, but still! What about the money I'd worked so hard to earn? Funny.
Another day at work the doctors all got together and bought us lunch. A nice catered affair with plates and we got to sit down to eat. (Very unusual for nurses). But before lunch, one of the doctors brought a large shopping bag full of junk-drug rep gifts that convince us to prescribe their drugs more. Really it's mostly cheap plastic office gadgets and pens and sticky notes. But let me tell you-this stuff disappears faster than chocolate in an OB/GYN office. Nurses can hear free pens clacking on a counter from a mile away. And like sharks smelling blood in the water, here they come. I am one of them. We fight for the purple ones, offer our first-born for the metal ones, and if it has an unusual shape or novelty attraction, we would sell our souls for them. Really "feeding frenzy" is the best description that comes to mind.
You know, we're a lot like that in our Christian walk. We set out with such good intentions, only to be distracted by so much shiny plastic. What are we thinking? What is it about instant gratification that makes us forget what's ours? It's truly all sex, drugs, and rock and roll, and in the end it's worthless garbage.
So what's a Christian to do? God commands us to stay pure and focus. Stay strong. 2 Corinthians 4:1-2 says, "Therefore, since through God's mercy we have this ministry, we do not lose heart. Rather, we have renounced secret and shameful ways; we do not use deception, nor do we distort the word of God. On the contrary, by setting forth the truth plainly we commend ourselves to every man's conscience in the sight of God."
We press on. Keep our focus, and in doing so draw others to Christ.
Such good intentions I have. I want to do a good thing, or do a thing good, but then somewhere along the way I lose focus. Or burn out or something.
I was at work the other day-pay day. I love pay day, but this was a special pay day. I worked overtime one shift which means I get a $25 Wal-Mart card in addition to my pay check. Now, my salary is nothing to get excited about, but up next to a $25 gift card, the difference is huge. So why in the world do we all get so excited about that piece of plastic? Oh, I know, it's extra, it's free, it's a 1/4 tank of gas, but still! What about the money I'd worked so hard to earn? Funny.
Another day at work the doctors all got together and bought us lunch. A nice catered affair with plates and we got to sit down to eat. (Very unusual for nurses). But before lunch, one of the doctors brought a large shopping bag full of junk-drug rep gifts that convince us to prescribe their drugs more. Really it's mostly cheap plastic office gadgets and pens and sticky notes. But let me tell you-this stuff disappears faster than chocolate in an OB/GYN office. Nurses can hear free pens clacking on a counter from a mile away. And like sharks smelling blood in the water, here they come. I am one of them. We fight for the purple ones, offer our first-born for the metal ones, and if it has an unusual shape or novelty attraction, we would sell our souls for them. Really "feeding frenzy" is the best description that comes to mind.
You know, we're a lot like that in our Christian walk. We set out with such good intentions, only to be distracted by so much shiny plastic. What are we thinking? What is it about instant gratification that makes us forget what's ours? It's truly all sex, drugs, and rock and roll, and in the end it's worthless garbage.
So what's a Christian to do? God commands us to stay pure and focus. Stay strong. 2 Corinthians 4:1-2 says, "Therefore, since through God's mercy we have this ministry, we do not lose heart. Rather, we have renounced secret and shameful ways; we do not use deception, nor do we distort the word of God. On the contrary, by setting forth the truth plainly we commend ourselves to every man's conscience in the sight of God."
We press on. Keep our focus, and in doing so draw others to Christ.
Friday, September 09, 2005
Nurseheimers and other tales from the front lines
Oh, the things I have to do. People always tell nurses "I just don't see how you do it. It takes a special person." To which I graciously reply, "A monkey could do my job." Some days I'm convinced of this. Other days I think "No self respecting monkey...
Take today, for instance. A physical therapist put my patient on a bed pan. (I was too busy.) He was nice enough to tell me but not nice enough to do the good work of getting him off the thing. Don't worry-I remembered about 30 minutes later. Which is precisely the amount of time it takes to form a really good suction with your backside. I'm not joking-butt hickey! Yes, the whole thing. The poor guy was stuck to the pan like...ok, no metaphor comes to mind, but you know the sound of the jelly jar breaking the seal when you first open it? Kinda like that, but more like a cartoon plunger being pulled off someone's face. Not to mention the slop that came out of the thing with that much force behind it. (I dodged).
Later the doctor came to see the guy on his rounds, then came out and asked if I knew why his patient hadn't narry a stitch on his body. I went to the room, explaining that I'd just been in there 1/2 an hour ago, when lo and behold, there he lay with narry a stitch as previously reported by said doctor. I said, "Sir! What are you doing?!" (disbelieving look on my face). He replied, and I'm not kidding, "Laying here with shortness of breath and dementia, apparently." Funniest thing I've ever heard.
I need to come up with a spiritual point to this journal entry but for the life of me I can't think of one!
One of my favorite verses (especially for days like this) is "Come to me, all you who are weary and heavy laden and I will give you rest." Matthew 11:28.
"I'm heavy laden," I long to cry. Right now I'm happy and thankful to be home and warm and safe. I have a full weekend of peace and quiet and bill-paying to do. I'm thankful to be able to do that. Thank you, Jesus, for small blessings, silver linings, and a moment to catch my breath! Cari
Take today, for instance. A physical therapist put my patient on a bed pan. (I was too busy.) He was nice enough to tell me but not nice enough to do the good work of getting him off the thing. Don't worry-I remembered about 30 minutes later. Which is precisely the amount of time it takes to form a really good suction with your backside. I'm not joking-butt hickey! Yes, the whole thing. The poor guy was stuck to the pan like...ok, no metaphor comes to mind, but you know the sound of the jelly jar breaking the seal when you first open it? Kinda like that, but more like a cartoon plunger being pulled off someone's face. Not to mention the slop that came out of the thing with that much force behind it. (I dodged).
Later the doctor came to see the guy on his rounds, then came out and asked if I knew why his patient hadn't narry a stitch on his body. I went to the room, explaining that I'd just been in there 1/2 an hour ago, when lo and behold, there he lay with narry a stitch as previously reported by said doctor. I said, "Sir! What are you doing?!" (disbelieving look on my face). He replied, and I'm not kidding, "Laying here with shortness of breath and dementia, apparently." Funniest thing I've ever heard.
I need to come up with a spiritual point to this journal entry but for the life of me I can't think of one!
One of my favorite verses (especially for days like this) is "Come to me, all you who are weary and heavy laden and I will give you rest." Matthew 11:28.
"I'm heavy laden," I long to cry. Right now I'm happy and thankful to be home and warm and safe. I have a full weekend of peace and quiet and bill-paying to do. I'm thankful to be able to do that. Thank you, Jesus, for small blessings, silver linings, and a moment to catch my breath! Cari
Tuesday, September 06, 2005
168 seconds
Ever find yourself waiting on God's timing and thought maybe His clock was a little off? I know I have. If He would consult with me first, He would see that we could do things on Cari time and how happy would that make me? Actually, I've made it really evident that when we use my schedule, things aren't so good. God has to remind me frequently that I'm NOT the fourth member of the Trinity, and when I agreed to serve Him it was apparently not to be in an advisory capacity.
Still, it leaves me asking questions. Why would God wait? Why does He seem slow sometimes? Habakkuk asked this question in his book by the same name. Why was God allowing the evil ones to be evil? Why didn't He take control now? How long would God turn His face on our pain? Job tried to make excuses for God in his book (also same name) and Sarah laughed at God. (That would be in Genesis) Was God serious?
He answered them all. To Habakkuk he said to write His answer down on clay tablets so later Habakkuk could come back and read what God had anwered with out changing it. The first prayer journal! He said, "Though it linger, wait for it." With Job, in about Chapter 38 He said, "Now listen to what I have to say," and made it really clear who was in control. With Sarah in Genesis 18:13 God promised He would return at the right time.
So who are we to doubt His timing? It's perfect. It's for a reason. We can't see it with human eyes until much later. My aunt taught a conference session on Habakkuk and God's timing. She talked about going to the 1st anniversary of the Murrah Building Bombing in OKC. She knew that there would be 168 seconds of silence in honor of the ones who perished on that day, and that a bell would toll 168 times, one a second, for each of those whose lives were lost. She also knew that there would be jets flying low over them following the tolling of the bells, as a sign of respect to those who were left behind. As the seconds ticked by, and the tolling continued, she prayed. When it got to 150 she looked to the horizon for the Blue Angels to appear. At 160, with still no jets in sight, she thought that maybe they had forgotten...165...no jet...166...DING...DING..."
It wasn't until after the final bell tolled that she saw and heard the dramatic entrance of the Blue Angels, flying in perfect formation in perfect time. One second early would have dishonored the 168th vicim and her family. One second late would have distracted the participants and been out of place.
God has perfect timing. We may not understand it, but then we were never told we would. We may not even get it while we're here on this earth! One things for sure though. God's got it under control. He'll be here, right when He needs to be.
Still, it leaves me asking questions. Why would God wait? Why does He seem slow sometimes? Habakkuk asked this question in his book by the same name. Why was God allowing the evil ones to be evil? Why didn't He take control now? How long would God turn His face on our pain? Job tried to make excuses for God in his book (also same name) and Sarah laughed at God. (That would be in Genesis) Was God serious?
He answered them all. To Habakkuk he said to write His answer down on clay tablets so later Habakkuk could come back and read what God had anwered with out changing it. The first prayer journal! He said, "Though it linger, wait for it." With Job, in about Chapter 38 He said, "Now listen to what I have to say," and made it really clear who was in control. With Sarah in Genesis 18:13 God promised He would return at the right time.
So who are we to doubt His timing? It's perfect. It's for a reason. We can't see it with human eyes until much later. My aunt taught a conference session on Habakkuk and God's timing. She talked about going to the 1st anniversary of the Murrah Building Bombing in OKC. She knew that there would be 168 seconds of silence in honor of the ones who perished on that day, and that a bell would toll 168 times, one a second, for each of those whose lives were lost. She also knew that there would be jets flying low over them following the tolling of the bells, as a sign of respect to those who were left behind. As the seconds ticked by, and the tolling continued, she prayed. When it got to 150 she looked to the horizon for the Blue Angels to appear. At 160, with still no jets in sight, she thought that maybe they had forgotten...165...no jet...166...DING...DING..."
It wasn't until after the final bell tolled that she saw and heard the dramatic entrance of the Blue Angels, flying in perfect formation in perfect time. One second early would have dishonored the 168th vicim and her family. One second late would have distracted the participants and been out of place.
God has perfect timing. We may not understand it, but then we were never told we would. We may not even get it while we're here on this earth! One things for sure though. God's got it under control. He'll be here, right when He needs to be.
Sunday, August 28, 2005
I have seen heaven...
I bought this thing awhile back for $50 for 2 nights at the Raddison in Branson. The deal was we had to go on a tour of this amazing resort, the Big Cedar, and endure a 90 minute presentation on time shares. A week before we headed out they called to say that we didn't have rooms at the Raddison, would we mind staying at the Big Cedar? It was $269 a night, but for us, a complimentary upgrade. I don't get excited about anything. I said, "Um, ok."
So we went. I lectured Derek (hubby) all the way there. "I don't care if they offer free fishing and hunting or anything else. We do the tour, say no thanks, pick up our free gift and leave. " Really. I mean it.
When we arrived at the front gate I knew we were in trouble. The registration center was beautiful. Deer antler chandeliers, stained glass windows, logs, leather furniture...every outdoorman's dream. As it turns out I'm kinda into the whole north-woods decor kinda thing, so I was sure we had been raptured and were now standing at Heaven's gate. St Peter was a woman in her 50's who called a shuttle for us and had us driven to our room a quarter mile away. 800 acres of trees and mountain and streams...heaven. And she told us we could go in.
We were escorted to our mansion in glory. (I really thought we'd all have our own, but whatever). The door opened. Angels sang. Beams of light shot out from behind the beds. I hadn't expected something so grand! Feather beds with 5 million count percale, down comforter, and wool Pendleton blankets in burnt orange with animal prints on it.
You know on Lord of the Rings where Smeegle looks at the ring and says "My precious!!!" Well, this was now me. Derek saw the danger, and started warning me. "When he sleeps I'll pokes out his eyeses." It would be MINE. MY PRECIOUS. And enjoy the ammenities we did. The canoes on Table Rock Lake, the lazy river at the lodge, the mini-golf. I was Eve only instead of forbidden fruit, "The Cookie Lady" brought us cedar shaped gingerbread cookies every evening at 8 and turned down our beds.
FEATHERBEDS!!!! God wanted me to have this!!!! So we went to our presentation. We'd tasted the forbidden fruit, and now we were face to face with satan himself, and he claims to have worked with Loretta Lynn. But wow, he was convincing. Made it sound great. I was being sucked in. Derek was the rock. About 45 minutes into the presentation satan asked if we had any questions yet. Derek said, "What'd you do with Loretta Lynn?"
That's mah boy.
Turns out he'd sung back-up. Apparently not very lucrative.
So satan continued the presentation (apparently it was 90 football minutes) and showed us what was going to be "our cabin". Our "home away from home." Unbelievable. Then we went in for the sales pitch. "All this and a free set of ginsu knives for $20,000." I was starting to think, hey, this isn't heaven. My....precious???
You know how the really good dreams end up with an alarm and no time to hit snooze? That was my reality. We thanked kind sir and accepted our free gifts (Bass pro gift certificate and show tickets) and went to enjoy the rest of our short trip in peace. Sort of.
I know I should be grateful for the respite. And I am. "He leads me beside still waters and restores my soul" it says in Psalms 23. I know that I have to wait awhile. I also know God's preparing my mansion in glory. I just hope it's made of logs and has a featherbed.
By the way, if you have $20k laying around I HIGHLY recommend Bass Pro's Big Cedar Lodge in Branson. There's a really great guy named Ray Burdett who'd be glad to set you up! Go to www.bigcedar.com for a preview (photos don't do it justice) and contact Bass Pro about the "Time share presentation special for $60." If you can spare 90 minutes or so it's worth it!
So we went. I lectured Derek (hubby) all the way there. "I don't care if they offer free fishing and hunting or anything else. We do the tour, say no thanks, pick up our free gift and leave. " Really. I mean it.
When we arrived at the front gate I knew we were in trouble. The registration center was beautiful. Deer antler chandeliers, stained glass windows, logs, leather furniture...every outdoorman's dream. As it turns out I'm kinda into the whole north-woods decor kinda thing, so I was sure we had been raptured and were now standing at Heaven's gate. St Peter was a woman in her 50's who called a shuttle for us and had us driven to our room a quarter mile away. 800 acres of trees and mountain and streams...heaven. And she told us we could go in.
We were escorted to our mansion in glory. (I really thought we'd all have our own, but whatever). The door opened. Angels sang. Beams of light shot out from behind the beds. I hadn't expected something so grand! Feather beds with 5 million count percale, down comforter, and wool Pendleton blankets in burnt orange with animal prints on it.
You know on Lord of the Rings where Smeegle looks at the ring and says "My precious!!!" Well, this was now me. Derek saw the danger, and started warning me. "When he sleeps I'll pokes out his eyeses." It would be MINE. MY PRECIOUS. And enjoy the ammenities we did. The canoes on Table Rock Lake, the lazy river at the lodge, the mini-golf. I was Eve only instead of forbidden fruit, "The Cookie Lady" brought us cedar shaped gingerbread cookies every evening at 8 and turned down our beds.
FEATHERBEDS!!!! God wanted me to have this!!!! So we went to our presentation. We'd tasted the forbidden fruit, and now we were face to face with satan himself, and he claims to have worked with Loretta Lynn. But wow, he was convincing. Made it sound great. I was being sucked in. Derek was the rock. About 45 minutes into the presentation satan asked if we had any questions yet. Derek said, "What'd you do with Loretta Lynn?"
That's mah boy.
Turns out he'd sung back-up. Apparently not very lucrative.
So satan continued the presentation (apparently it was 90 football minutes) and showed us what was going to be "our cabin". Our "home away from home." Unbelievable. Then we went in for the sales pitch. "All this and a free set of ginsu knives for $20,000." I was starting to think, hey, this isn't heaven. My....precious???
You know how the really good dreams end up with an alarm and no time to hit snooze? That was my reality. We thanked kind sir and accepted our free gifts (Bass pro gift certificate and show tickets) and went to enjoy the rest of our short trip in peace. Sort of.
I know I should be grateful for the respite. And I am. "He leads me beside still waters and restores my soul" it says in Psalms 23. I know that I have to wait awhile. I also know God's preparing my mansion in glory. I just hope it's made of logs and has a featherbed.
By the way, if you have $20k laying around I HIGHLY recommend Bass Pro's Big Cedar Lodge in Branson. There's a really great guy named Ray Burdett who'd be glad to set you up! Go to www.bigcedar.com for a preview (photos don't do it justice) and contact Bass Pro about the "Time share presentation special for $60." If you can spare 90 minutes or so it's worth it!
My Extreme Makeover
I had a great ladies' conference this weekend! What a response! The women were warm and encouraging (always good when you're standing in front of people older and wiser than you and teaching them...) and the subject matter really flowed. I felt good about it. My prayer is that God was glorified!
I taught about Extreme Makeover and how it applies to our lives today. We as Christians have a "home" that is uninhabitable. (I will never use that as a key word in my class again!! Try saying it over and over!!) What in our Christian lives makes us worn out, ugly, or NOT LIVABLE?
Our "home" represents our entire Christian lives and how we present ourselves, both publicly and privately when no one is around. Our facade is our beauty. Our beauty depends solely on what's inside of us. Do people see on our outsides what is happening on the inside, and if so, is that at positive thing? Our living room represents our personality. Like our living room at home, it is designed with other's comfort in mind as well as our own. Is it warm and inviting, or cold and impersonal? What are negative personality traits that make others uncomfortable with us? Our kitchen represents our basic needs of life. Is our kitchen full of junk food, or microwavable food? Do we take time to eat substantial, healthy meals? Our quiet time is like that. Do I have "microwavable religion" that works in a pinch but never really satisfies? How about my closet. What is it about those secret quiet spaces that causes us to want to stuff things? This is our sin life...our habits, addictions, resentments, guilt, shame, fear, pain, abuse, worry, anger, bitterness....but like that painting we made in the 70's, we take ownership of these things and no matter how ugly, we don't want to let it go. But we certainly don't want others to see it. So we hide it.
This house must fall. God must call in His Holy demolition crew and tear us to the ground. We begin by going away. Psalm 127:1 Unless the Lord build the house, they labor in vain who built it. In the tv show, the family doesn't get to stay and help...they go away. The house must be built on a firm foundation. We need a really great bathroom. A place where we can go and be completely exposed before God. We need bright lights of revelation and mirrors that reflect. When we expose ourselves before God, we can climb into the hot shower of mercy and forgiveness and let Him cleanse us. Then our kitchen should be stocked with spiritual veggies. Sure, you can have quick devotions written by others now and then. But if I'm having a steak, do you want me to tell you how it tastes, or would you rather taste it for yourself?? We need to be sure our closets are functional. Dump all the garbage inside and send it to the dump. Add to it a space to pray, a place to store wisdom and experience and memories, so you can go to it and pull out what you need! Our living room (personality) will then reflect the warmth of a home full of love. I can speak with the toungues of men and angels, but if I don't have love I'm a clanging cymbal. That's 1 Corinthians 13. Read it! Finally when my house is in order inside, it will be beautiful on the outside. Elizabeth Kubler Ross writes about death and dying. She said "We are like stained glass windows. We shine and sparkle in the sun. But when in darkness we can only shine if the light comes from within." Thanks for reading this far! This is a quick version of my class session. Questions?
I taught about Extreme Makeover and how it applies to our lives today. We as Christians have a "home" that is uninhabitable. (I will never use that as a key word in my class again!! Try saying it over and over!!) What in our Christian lives makes us worn out, ugly, or NOT LIVABLE?
Our "home" represents our entire Christian lives and how we present ourselves, both publicly and privately when no one is around. Our facade is our beauty. Our beauty depends solely on what's inside of us. Do people see on our outsides what is happening on the inside, and if so, is that at positive thing? Our living room represents our personality. Like our living room at home, it is designed with other's comfort in mind as well as our own. Is it warm and inviting, or cold and impersonal? What are negative personality traits that make others uncomfortable with us? Our kitchen represents our basic needs of life. Is our kitchen full of junk food, or microwavable food? Do we take time to eat substantial, healthy meals? Our quiet time is like that. Do I have "microwavable religion" that works in a pinch but never really satisfies? How about my closet. What is it about those secret quiet spaces that causes us to want to stuff things? This is our sin life...our habits, addictions, resentments, guilt, shame, fear, pain, abuse, worry, anger, bitterness....but like that painting we made in the 70's, we take ownership of these things and no matter how ugly, we don't want to let it go. But we certainly don't want others to see it. So we hide it.
This house must fall. God must call in His Holy demolition crew and tear us to the ground. We begin by going away. Psalm 127:1 Unless the Lord build the house, they labor in vain who built it. In the tv show, the family doesn't get to stay and help...they go away. The house must be built on a firm foundation. We need a really great bathroom. A place where we can go and be completely exposed before God. We need bright lights of revelation and mirrors that reflect. When we expose ourselves before God, we can climb into the hot shower of mercy and forgiveness and let Him cleanse us. Then our kitchen should be stocked with spiritual veggies. Sure, you can have quick devotions written by others now and then. But if I'm having a steak, do you want me to tell you how it tastes, or would you rather taste it for yourself?? We need to be sure our closets are functional. Dump all the garbage inside and send it to the dump. Add to it a space to pray, a place to store wisdom and experience and memories, so you can go to it and pull out what you need! Our living room (personality) will then reflect the warmth of a home full of love. I can speak with the toungues of men and angels, but if I don't have love I'm a clanging cymbal. That's 1 Corinthians 13. Read it! Finally when my house is in order inside, it will be beautiful on the outside. Elizabeth Kubler Ross writes about death and dying. She said "We are like stained glass windows. We shine and sparkle in the sun. But when in darkness we can only shine if the light comes from within." Thanks for reading this far! This is a quick version of my class session. Questions?
Sunday, August 21, 2005
Oops...published my title without a blog...
Heya! It's Sunday and I'm at my computer. This is strange because I'm usually at church right now. However, I had to work today for 1/2 a day, so I left early and came home to change into scrubs. Guess what. Not dry. Fantabulastic.
I'm amazed at this whole blogging thing, how it sort of pulls you in. I plan to only use my powers for good, though. I can't believe the anger and hatred out there. Do you people know there's a God who can take all of that away?
Hatred of Christianity is not new, but it's the one remaining acceptable hatred. If anything is good, it will be scoffed at. I know that one day, no matter what you think here on earth, Jesus will return to get His children. And then one day we'll stand before Christ and give an account of what we did here on earth. Did we accept Jesus as Lord? Did we not only believe (the bible says even satan and his minions believe) but also ask Him into our hearts and live for Him?
People have this wild misconception that hell is a party place where the badest of the bad dudes will be the life of the party. Here's the truth-hell was made not for humans but for satan and his angels. One day they will be cast once and for all into the lake of fire, and tormented for all of eternity. Without end. God gave us an out, though. We can accept Jesus (see above) or we can deny Him. God doesn't send good people to hell. We send ourselves by not accepting His sacrificial gift.
John 14:6 Jesus is the Way, the Truth, and the Life. No one gets to Heaven except thru Him.
Let Him in, won't ya?
I'm amazed at this whole blogging thing, how it sort of pulls you in. I plan to only use my powers for good, though. I can't believe the anger and hatred out there. Do you people know there's a God who can take all of that away?
Hatred of Christianity is not new, but it's the one remaining acceptable hatred. If anything is good, it will be scoffed at. I know that one day, no matter what you think here on earth, Jesus will return to get His children. And then one day we'll stand before Christ and give an account of what we did here on earth. Did we accept Jesus as Lord? Did we not only believe (the bible says even satan and his minions believe) but also ask Him into our hearts and live for Him?
People have this wild misconception that hell is a party place where the badest of the bad dudes will be the life of the party. Here's the truth-hell was made not for humans but for satan and his angels. One day they will be cast once and for all into the lake of fire, and tormented for all of eternity. Without end. God gave us an out, though. We can accept Jesus (see above) or we can deny Him. God doesn't send good people to hell. We send ourselves by not accepting His sacrificial gift.
John 14:6 Jesus is the Way, the Truth, and the Life. No one gets to Heaven except thru Him.
Let Him in, won't ya?
Saturday, August 20, 2005
Whatever
YES! A storm is moving in! I can't stand it, I'm so excited! I love storms! It doesn't look too ominous, which is disappointing to me. The heat index here is over 100. Rain will cool us off for awhile. Of course the payoff is a really humid day tomorrow. I hate humidity.
Okies love weather. Do other states and countries have tornado sirens? We have them everywhere. They test them for about one minute every Saturday at noon. What happens if a tornado blows in on a Saturday at noon? When we have tornadoes in the area the sirens sound to give us sufficient time to...you guessed it, put on our tube tops and find the video camera. If you've ever seen news footage of Oklahoma after a storm you know the eyewitness has teeth inversely proportional to number of tatoos, and they are wearing a tube top. "...it sounded like a freight train! All I could think of was, 'I just loaned Mary Jo my casserole.' We're just happy to be alive. The trailer crushed all the dogs though." Thank you my cousin Tarisa for the casserole bit. You're so funny.
We aren't really all like that. Some of us are educated and know the correct spelling of "Y'all" and use it correctly in sentences. We tried awhile back to change it to "yooz guys" but it just didn't work out. Too much work.
Now I'm thinking I had a point to this story. All that writing and not a shred of spiritual content. Sometimes I get like that. If you've read this far and wonder what I'm talking about, you should know that I love to write about my life experiences and how they relate to Christ. Let's go with the stormy weather metaphor.
The disciples and Jesus were on a boat. It started storming, and Jesus slept. The disciples wondered if Jesus cared if they died. So they woke Him and asked if He was just going to let them die. Jesus said, "peace, be still." Then the storm stopped. I don't know if He was talking to the dicsiples or the storm, but at least the storm obeyed.
Sometimes we find ourselves in the storms of life. Do we trust that God has it under control, or do we hunt Him down and demand to be taken care of? One of my favorite songs says, "sometimes He calms the storm and other times He calms His child." Who was that song by? I don't remember.
Maybe another time...until then, enjoy the storm!
Okies love weather. Do other states and countries have tornado sirens? We have them everywhere. They test them for about one minute every Saturday at noon. What happens if a tornado blows in on a Saturday at noon? When we have tornadoes in the area the sirens sound to give us sufficient time to...you guessed it, put on our tube tops and find the video camera. If you've ever seen news footage of Oklahoma after a storm you know the eyewitness has teeth inversely proportional to number of tatoos, and they are wearing a tube top. "...it sounded like a freight train! All I could think of was, 'I just loaned Mary Jo my casserole.' We're just happy to be alive. The trailer crushed all the dogs though." Thank you my cousin Tarisa for the casserole bit. You're so funny.
We aren't really all like that. Some of us are educated and know the correct spelling of "Y'all" and use it correctly in sentences. We tried awhile back to change it to "yooz guys" but it just didn't work out. Too much work.
Now I'm thinking I had a point to this story. All that writing and not a shred of spiritual content. Sometimes I get like that. If you've read this far and wonder what I'm talking about, you should know that I love to write about my life experiences and how they relate to Christ. Let's go with the stormy weather metaphor.
The disciples and Jesus were on a boat. It started storming, and Jesus slept. The disciples wondered if Jesus cared if they died. So they woke Him and asked if He was just going to let them die. Jesus said, "peace, be still." Then the storm stopped. I don't know if He was talking to the dicsiples or the storm, but at least the storm obeyed.
Sometimes we find ourselves in the storms of life. Do we trust that God has it under control, or do we hunt Him down and demand to be taken care of? One of my favorite songs says, "sometimes He calms the storm and other times He calms His child." Who was that song by? I don't remember.
Maybe another time...until then, enjoy the storm!
Thursday, August 18, 2005
Grace is like that!
This is not a lady-like story. I apologize to my mom, grandma, my southern-lady aunts, and all the rest of the people who claim to have raised me. To my sister and cousins I do not apologize, because they woulda been right there with me.
I was at work at the hospital a while back and I had felt a little...well...rumbly all day. You know, the feeling that if you don't expel a little you'll probably explode. A lot. I was in a patient's room, a little old lady with a respiratory problem, and the doctor joined us to do his exam. As he asked questions I felt like at any moment I was going to lose it. I squeezed. I squeezed hard, and prayed for a natural disaster or anything to take the focus off of me! And then there it was. It wasn't terribly loud, but it wasn't like I could've blamed it on oxygen tubing. I was humiliated. I just passed gas in a patient's room with a doctor in hearing range!! The humanity!!! In moments like this, you pray for grace, but you don't really expect it. You know that someone's gonna laugh at you, make you the target of their ridicule and scorn.
As my face glowed crimson and I began to open my mouth with words of apology, the little old lady at once exclaimed, "OH MY! Excuse me!" I thought, "You have got to be kidding me." She really thinks she did that. Or at least the doctor does...
YES!!! Saved! I was so happy I could dance! I think maybe I did, which totally blew my cover, but I felt so good that I no longer cared who thought what!
Grace is a lot like that. You work so hard to cover up your faults or at least not keel over from total humiliation when Jesus steps in and takes your blame. He carries our shame on his shoulders and tells us it's ok. How can I not tell people of His love?
Thank you, Jesus, for loving me enough to die. Thank you for covering my sin with Your blood. Your grace amazes me! Romans 5:8 "God demonstrated His love in this, that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us."
I was at work at the hospital a while back and I had felt a little...well...rumbly all day. You know, the feeling that if you don't expel a little you'll probably explode. A lot. I was in a patient's room, a little old lady with a respiratory problem, and the doctor joined us to do his exam. As he asked questions I felt like at any moment I was going to lose it. I squeezed. I squeezed hard, and prayed for a natural disaster or anything to take the focus off of me! And then there it was. It wasn't terribly loud, but it wasn't like I could've blamed it on oxygen tubing. I was humiliated. I just passed gas in a patient's room with a doctor in hearing range!! The humanity!!! In moments like this, you pray for grace, but you don't really expect it. You know that someone's gonna laugh at you, make you the target of their ridicule and scorn.
As my face glowed crimson and I began to open my mouth with words of apology, the little old lady at once exclaimed, "OH MY! Excuse me!" I thought, "You have got to be kidding me." She really thinks she did that. Or at least the doctor does...
YES!!! Saved! I was so happy I could dance! I think maybe I did, which totally blew my cover, but I felt so good that I no longer cared who thought what!
Grace is a lot like that. You work so hard to cover up your faults or at least not keel over from total humiliation when Jesus steps in and takes your blame. He carries our shame on his shoulders and tells us it's ok. How can I not tell people of His love?
Thank you, Jesus, for loving me enough to die. Thank you for covering my sin with Your blood. Your grace amazes me! Romans 5:8 "God demonstrated His love in this, that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us."
Wednesday, August 17, 2005
Here goes...
I'm a blogger. I have no idea what that means yet, but when my kids come home from school tomorrow I intend to find out. So don't laugh at me to start out because it will hurt my feelings. But later when I'm more confident you can make all the fun you want...see ya soon!
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