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Ripples

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I wonder what ripples my life will leave after my drop in time has passed. Will they grow to be a wave strong and forceful, or will they fade slowly into the others unnoticed? Such is the nature of life, a drop in the bucket of eternity and it’s gone in an instant.

You welcome a new one into the world, crying tears of wonder and amazement and then you turn around and they’re off and running. You’re suddenly planning a wedding and watching them fly away.

You write a song and sing it timidly only to hear that another is singing it wildly, holding onto it as if it held their hope and you are humbled. You wonder when your words cross paper and find the eyes of a reader if they will mean anything. You wonder if you’ve done enough. You wonder if you can do more. You wonder if you’ve been wasteful.

Then you realize that your wondering is a gift, an opportunity to live tomorrow free. Wondering what was should propel you to create tomorrow. Craft each moment with deliberate hands. Decide to embrace the seconds, the good and hard and sorrowful. Decide to live your “now” with everything you’ve got. Decide to leave a legacy. Decide to live with purpose. Then at the end of the journey you can look back and see the tide that swelled with one touch of the finger of God into the river of life you allowed to flow through you. As you cross the shore, you can smile as you listen to the crash of the waves that began miles away with a ripple.

 

The Color of my Lawn

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I was at a birthday party years ago. I’d joined a group of fellow homeschooling mom’s who were discussing daily activities, curriculums and parenting choices. In the midst of the group was “that ONE mom”. You know the one I mean. She talked of how organized her life was. She shared how many hours she spent with each child pouring over books and games. She condescendingly commented how she would NEVER dream of feeding her child pizza or chicken nuggets. Then it happened…she started asking questions.

At that time in my life, I worked a full time job or two while homeschooling my oldest two daughters and keeping track of a toddler. I made sure to stay actively involved in worship ministry and writing as well because one should never abandon their passions. I was also still stuck in an extremely dysfunctional marriage to an addict and you can imagine the repercussions that had on my already packed schedule and life. I was a BUSY woman! I’d made the choice to enroll my daughters in a web-based homeschooling program where they’d have instructors available to help them in case they needed it and where much of the work was self-guided. It was the best choice for us at that time because I just couldn’t do it all. So, when super mom over there started asking questions about how I maintained our home education program, it wasn’t pretty.

I’ll never forget the look on her face. She asked, “What curriculum do you use?”. I responded with the name of our virtual school program and her grimace was immediate and severe. Her chipper face fell to disdain in an instant. I don’t know why it hit me so hard, the stones she threw with her gaze, but I felt so small I could hug a piece of rice. There I was in a room full of women, seemingly alone. None of them were faced with circumstances as extreme as mine, but I still felt like I was a poor excuse for a wife and a mother. It wasn’t that I wanted to be like the condescending woman snarling at me. It was more that I felt the demand to be more. I was wrecked by my own inner longing to be better.

I didn’t stay long after that. In the safety of the car, I prayed through tears I tried to contain, “God, I’m just not like them.”  In that soothing voice I’ve come to love so much, my comforter spoke a simple phrase to my soul. “Come out from among them and be separate.” (2 Corinthians 6:17) God didn’t call me or create me to be like someone else. He gave me THIS life to live according to His plan.

We ladies seem to spend a lot of time on comparisons. I hear it all the time. The stay at home mamas defend their choices to the working mamas hoping others know how challenging it really is to be home raising little ones…hoping to be appreciated. The working mamas come across as condescending to the stay at home moms because they feel they do it ALL. The homeschool mamas criticize the public schoolers. The public school moms think the homeschool mamas are crazy. We want to be skinnier, better homemakers, better cooks, have hair like her, dress like she does. We want success and respect. We want it ALL! The truth we often forget is that we have it all. God has given us everything we need for life and godliness. (2 Peter 1:3)

If the grass seems greener on the other side, water your yard. Be you! Be the best you imaginable! Rock your you-ness with confidence and grace! There will always be that person whose better than you at something and that’s okay. You are not called to be someone else. You are called to take your gifts and develop them. You are called to greatness and you’ve been given everything necessary to achieve that greatness.

These days, I’m feeling awfully comfortable in my own skin. I’m having a blast homeschooling and I’m a little more hands-on these days. I’m still working a full-time job and running my own business on the side. I’m still busy in ministry and other things. Granted, I’m no longer married to an addict. I’m remarried to the man of my dreams who treats me so well. That helps a lot! But, more importantly, I’ve become confident in who God made me. I’m comfortable in my skin. I’m perfectly fine with the color of my lawn.

Water your own garden with living water and watch how you bloom!

 

The Map

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Coffee

There’s something about the promise in a morning. A new day peaks over the mountains that stood, ominous, dark, hours before. There’s opportunity inherent there. There’s hope that maybe today will bring with it all the things we’ve been searching for.

That’s why I’m making a diligent choice to sit for a moment, still, with coffee in one hand, treasure map in the other

seeking.

 I may not know what adventure awaits me today but I know the means of survival are right here in my grasp, the living word of God, breathing before me

leading me.

It’s wisdom better than gold or rubies making me better.

Proverbs 8:10-11 Receive my instruction, and not silver,  And knowledge rather than choice gold; For wisdom is better than rubies, And all the things one may desire cannot be compared with her.”

Hebrews 4:12 “For the word of God is living and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing even to the division of soul and spirit, and of joints and marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart.”

Around the Table

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True Vine

The question was posed to me, “What is God doing in your life?” I don’t always have an immediate brilliant answer and maybe that’s my own pride trying to come up with a brilliant answer. Today, I thought I’d answer that question as if we were sitting around my table, coffee in hand, talking.

God is teaching me so much about myself. I am a stubborn redneck woman who has spent her life surviving the situation using whatever strength I can muster at the time. But in God’s economy, my strength is weakness. The more I try to control and ‘handle’ my circumstances, the farther I drift from Him. Lately, more than anything, He’s showing me my need. I desperately need my time with him daily. I am learning to slow down in the midst of the mornings and breathe in his word and his ways. I am learning to stop when I get in high gear and find his heart.

God is showing me that for all my knowledge, if I miss his presence, I have nothing. I’m learning that holiness is less about abstinence from sin and more about my old man burning away like chaff in the light of divine majesty. I’m learning that though I outwardly may seem blameless, if in my heart, I have an attitude, I’m not pure. I’ve prayed that God would purify my heart and create in me a woman who isn’t always so concerned with being right. Rather, I seek to be a woman who pleases God. I will bring him everything and watch him do whatever he wills. That is the key to peace.

I’m learning that the deeper I go, the more I find the simplicity of the gospel.

‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the first and great commandment.  And the second is like it: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ On these two commandments hang all the Law and the Prophets,” Matthew 22:37-40

Romans 12:1-2 “I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that you present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable to God, which is your reasonable service.  And do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, that you may prove what is that good and acceptable and perfect will of God.

Most of all, I’m learning that this life isn’t about me. My marriage isn’t about me. It’s about me giving of myself, pouring out, just as Christ did for the church. If I let my pride, ego and self-preservation tendencies get in the way of that, it’s a lot more difficult. If I surrender my rights and give myself fully to the wonderful man God blessed me with and give of myself to a world in need, the rest falls into place. God takes over when I let go.

It may all sound like commonsense and I suppose it is. I find that the more you know, sometimes you have to go back to the basics to find the fullness.

I pray that God is teaching you similarly. I pray that you hear his voice as he quietly whispers to your soul. There is such freedom in his presence. Today, and everyday, I invite you to grab a cup of coffee and spend some time with him. Find his heart not just his head. Read his word. Dive in all the way and immerse yourself in his love. There is no greater treasure.

All I am for all you are

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“I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that you present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable to God, which is your reasonable service. And do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, that you may prove what is that good and acceptable and perfect will of God.” Romans 12:1-2

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Listen

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The same phrase keeps resonating in my head this week, “Have you finished doing the last thing God asked you to do?” I’m thinking the answer is probably “no” but I can’t remember the last thing he asked me to do, which makes me realize I’m not listening as well as I think I am, which makes me resolve to tune in today, which makes me a better person, which makes the world a little bit better.

When to Speak

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mouth

Oh the tongue, unruly little member that it is. So hard to control yet able to kindle sparks into wildfires so quickly. More devastating is the heart of man, so quickly devising opinions; so quick to judge and having direct access to the aforementioned member. This arrangement makes it difficult to control myself especially when I feel justified in believing that I have the answer. If only I were wise enough always to listen that still small voice of the spirit reminding me that the more I think I know, the less I really do. There is this vast array of knowledge to be acquired. There’s grandeur that we’ve only begun to understand. There’s perspective we aren’t privy to. Things that motivate the heart of others that we can’t understand because we wear different shoes and walk different roads. We are different.

There are times when it’s absolutely imperative that we speak our minds. There are times when we stand as a lone voice in the darkness proclaiming light. At these times, I won’t stay silent. I will never allow the opinions of others to sway the things I know to be true in my heart. Still, there’s a difference in speaking truth when necessary or saying things just to make your position known.

I think the balance lies in the heart. Are my words motivated by love or vindication? Am I seeking to correct in order to edify or am I seeking to put someone in their place?

Lord, let me speak only what I hear you speaking? God, help me to seek you before I seek my own version of ‘rightness’. I want to be a beacon shining light and compassion rather than a ranting, crushing, know-it-all. Let me be an encouragement! Make me more like you.

Heroes

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I always thought my dad was a hero. I think a lot of us feel that way when we’re growing up. Fathers possess super powers to fix everything from squeaky hinges to teary moments and automotive mayhem. I still call my dad when the car is making a goofy noise and I’m worried. My husband will say something normal like “Take it to the mechanic.” and I’ll say something slightly irrational like, “I’ll call Dad and ask him.” As if Dad is going to be able to help from 1170 miles away over a phone. But my husband doesn’t have the same memories I have. I remember standing next to the open hood of the car watching Daddy fix everything so many times. I remember watching the car that should have been put out to pasture long ago still making its way down the interstate because of his powers.

I remember long summer days sitting by the lake reeling in fish. I remember pretending to fall asleep in the car just so he’d carry me inside late at night. I remember hearing him preach and then practicing my preaching skills to my congregation of stuffed squirrels and bunnies later that afternoon. I remember his smile in the audience while I sang a solo. I remember when he taught me how to play a “D” Chord on the guitar and trying SO hard to get my fingers to stretch far enough to play “G”. (I’ve got it down now by the way.)

My step-dad was equally heroic. When I wandered in the woods and encountered a rattlesnake or water moccasin, he would come save the day. He invested hours looking at boring shells and teaching me how to jump into a wave. He listened and laughed when I made up goofy jokes that didn’t deserve laughter. He put up with more than his share of tickle wars even though he hates to be tickled. We had fun. We laughed often and hard. We still do.

Many of us are blessed enough to have wonderful memories with our dads. Many of us are blessed to watch similar stories unfold between our husbands and our children. My husband is a hero. He nobly walks out his faith each day in front of our children. He works hard. He sacrifices time watching (and playing) golf to wrestle and laugh with our baby boy. He gives of himself and what is more heroic than that? I am blessed to be his wife. I am blessed by him as a father.

Still, even more heroic is the love of our Heavenly Father. He gave so that we can live. He gives abundantly. Grace and love flow freely from His hands, from His heart even when we don’t deserve it. Strength is defined in Him. Selflessness begins in Him. Life was and is breathed in Him.

Heroes give.

Today, I am thankful for the heroes in my life. The world is a better place because of heroes like you. Happy Father’s Day!

Bananas

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I moved from Southern Ohio to Florida in 1988. I was in the fourth grade. It seemed so glamorous and magical at the time. We had a banana tree beside our little trailer and I thought it looked so tropical and lush. It was just a baby but we were so proud of it. I knew one day I’d be eating fruit we’d grown right there in our trailer park yard. Somehow, since then, I’ve lost some of the wonder.

When my husband and I moved into our current home, the yard was a little barren so we hired a landscaper to put in some plants that we weren’t likely to kill easily. We are not the most inspired gardeners. He put in several banana trees. I found myself complaining about them. I should focus on the green portions of the tree or the cute little bunches of bananas that grow from time to time, but instead, all I see are the brown droopy leaves bending low at the bottom of the plants. They are kind of ugly.

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The noble trees are working hard to reach upward; growing fast toward the sun. They are even making precious fruit for me to enjoy and I sit and criticize and scorn them thinking my yard looks more like a mess than a tropical paradise. I could go tend them and clean up the area a little, but that demands more effort than I care to proffer so I choose the path of least resistance, annoyance.

Francis Frangipane mentioned this critical tendency recently when he said, “True, when I first see the need, typically, my flesh reacts with criticism. But if I repent of just finding fault – if I pray and submit myself to Christ’s heart – I soon discover there are many ways for me to participate in redeeming this situation, all of which fuel my spiritual growth. Indeed, by approaching the area of need with Christ’s redemptive heart, the “flawed reality” I initially criticized ultimately became the land of my anointing.”

I’ve known those who say they will never go to church because the church is full of hypocrites. And maybe they are right. Maybe we are all goofy looking banana trees reaching for the sun as the old sinful nature dies off and dangles, brown and ugly. Thankfully, God looks down from above and sees life and delights in all of us fruity folks. Still I can’t help but wonder what the body of Christ could do if we would take that child like perspective that sees the tree as magical, lush, tropical and full of wonder. What if we stopped criticizing one another and started participating in redeeming the situation? What if we pushed aside the urge to criticize and began reacting to annoyance first with prayer? What would we look like if we chose love? I, for one, am planning to find out.

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Lack of Words

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All my words have been taken captive. Pirates of time and their productivity minions have me locked in a cave of clean rooms and financial reports stifling all aspects of my creativity. I think I can see light peeking in through the opening. Soon I will knock the guard out and take back what’s rightfully mine, my freedom. At that time, I’ll be back here, sharing all the fruits of my creative bottleneck with you. In the meantime, I apologize for my silence. I’ll beat those pesky pirates yet.