Random

Keep it Simple

/ Jaimie / Leave a comment

I can be so forgetful! I am stubborn and independent in nature. I have this way of going about life as if it were solely mine to live, as if I can handle everything just fine by myself. The weight and responsibility of the world rest upon my shoulders alone. The earth and all its inhabitants are at the mercy of my strength and abilities. God help us all!

I’m sure you’ve already guessed that this trait can tend to get me into trouble from time to time. If nothing else, it leads to my becoming overwhelmed and having mini meltdowns every now and then. The meltdown episodes serve as reminders that I was not designed to hold the world in orbit or pull the stars into position. Whey my best efforts drive me and everything around me into chaos, I remember to cry out for help.

Psalm 116:1-7 “I love the Lord, because He has heard my voice and my supplications. Because He has inclined His ear to me, Therefore I will call upon Him as long as I live. The pains of death surrounded me, And the pangs of Sheol laid hold of me; I found trouble and sorrow. Then I called upon the name of the Lord: ‘O Lord, I implore You, deliver my soul!’ Gracious is the Lord, and righteous; Yes, our God is merciful. The Lord preserves the simple; I was brought low, and He saved me. Return to your rest, O my soul, For the Lord has dealt bountifully with you.”

Inevitably, there will be times when I find trouble and sorrow. Sometimes it’s my own fault for trying to do everything my way. Sometimes it’s just life doing what it does…throwing a curve ball or two my way or blasting me out of the current all alone and seeing what I do next. (See the following video to understand the last reference)

I hope and pray that when trouble surrounds I remember to look up. When I call upon the Lord, He hears me. He is gracious and merciful despite my simplicity of mind. When I keep it simple and remember to remember Him, He reminds me that I can stop trying to conquer and vanquish every obstacle and simply return to my rest. I can trust His ability to carry me through everything. He protects and preserves me, meets my every need and has dealt bountifully with me. I can rest in Him.

Today I will resolve to keep it simple. I will slow down, take a deep breath, say a prayer of thankfulness, drink a cup or two (or pot) of coffee, relax and go about my day with the confidence that I can do everything I’ve been called to do in Him and that’s totally awesome!

Cheesy Poetry Tuesday

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In a day I’m suddenly different and that’s not a bad thing

On Friday I was tired, overwhelmed and a little lonely

Saturday I woke up loved and filled with excitement about life

Sunday I found gratefulness, appreciation and worship

Monday I was ready to conquer the world (minus the centipede I discovered in my living room who’s probably still creepy crawling around the house somewhere)

Today I’m reflective and completely at peace

I’m basking in contentment at the life I get to lead

 

In a day I’m suddenly different and that’s not a bad thing

I want to grow and change all the ugliness in me

Some might think that strange while they embrace the faults they see

I think I’d rather become more thankful, more loving, more content

I think that these things make me free

Nothing to hold me back as I press on toward tomorrow, I move from glory to glory

In a day I’m suddenly different, but everyday, I’m me

Unruly Tongue

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From the outside looking in (or the inside looking out) I find myself wondering why I’m saying what I’m saying.

It’s that crazy moment when the spirit is screaming for me to zip the lip and I’m still going and realizing somewhere in the middle that I already regret what I let slip out.

Ah, unruly tongue, I want to wrangle you. I’d like to wrap my arms around the python and squeeze. Maybe it’s to prove that I have mastery over me. Maybe I’d like to show some fruit instead of being a cursed fig tree. Maybe I just don’t like messing up. Whatever the reason, can I undo what I’ve done? Can I suck the words back into my lungs and pretend it never happened?

“But no man can tame the tongue. It is an unruly evil, full of deadly poison” James 3:8

Flesh

At the end of the day, there’s grace. I’ll stand up again, awake and ready. I’ll try to tame my mouth but the truth is, I am utterly dependent on the Comforter. Only the Holy Spirit can remind me to wrangle my words and reveal to me the truth about my heart. He is my ever-present help. Through him I can make it through this crazy world with tongue and flesh in check, ready to lay my life down again on the altar of grace.

Then when I’ve messed it all up, he wraps me up in his love, showers me with mercy and covers me with peace. I can’t help but fall more in love with him daily. So I’ll press on today with this my goal, “O Lord, open my lips,And my mouth shall show forth Your praise.” Psalm 51:15. Maybe today I’ll learn to bite my tongue a little harder before it bites me.

Flyboy

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20130220-174452.jpg Flyboy finds a shell and sends it soaring helpless into the surf. He knows he can cause it to skip and skim instead of sink. When it disappears deep, he finds another and begins again, each time adjusting his angle, the spin of his wrist, the speed and thrust.

Finally, he looks up to Dad for an example. As the shell, gracefully leaves his hands, Flyboy watches with wonder as it jumps three times before falling deep.

Flyboy believes he can be just like daddy. He sees shell skipping on water in his mind and knows he can do it. Frustration is short-lived and only causes him to look up for instruction.

IMG_0211I pray I look at life just like Flyboy…knowing I can do anything…knowing when I’m sinking, I can look up. I pray I never lose the wonder of what surrounds me. I pray I always remember that I can fly. IMG_0253 IMG_0256

I’m Hungry

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I’m drinking in the morning. Splendid sights before me captivate the senses and awaken the mind. The sunrise out my window tosses red, orange and pink beams into the horizon, borrowing just a fraction of the majesty the omnipotent one holds. Such sights make me hungry to see more of Him every day.

If I could pull back a small corner of the veil of eternity and peek in, would I even be able to stand tomorrow? My legs would surely be the first things to go as my wobbly feet try to process what it would mean to take a step closer.

Who is like Him? The earth is His footstool. The heavens declare His wonder and still He thinks of me.

I know I cannot pull back the heavens for a closer look so, for now, I’ll put away my pen and dive deeply into the ocean of wonder contained in His word. I’ll always be hungry for more.

Common Sense when Speaking Please

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Please indulge while I rant for a moment on basic etiquette and common sense.

As I’ve told you before, I am happily pregnant with my fourth little munchkin. The second trimester is so much easier than the first in many ways, but I’m encountering a new phenomenon that I don’t think I noticed the last three times around. As my baby bump is growing, I am finding that the comments I am receiving from the peanut gallery are growing and some of them are a little baffling.

I am perfectly fine with people commenting on the fact that I am showing or (hopefully) how adorable I look. I can even (in most instances) tolerate the occasional belly rub. Still, I wonder what is going through the minds of those who choose to use words like “huge” and “fatty” in reference to how an expecting mommy looks. I’ve been told, “You’re HOW far along?” while eyes roll and gravitate back and forth between my face and stomach. Or there’s the ever so popular, “Are you sure there’s only ONE in there?”

I was so grateful for the fellow mom that happened to be standing next to me yesterday at church and said “I always showed right away too” in response to the man who was telling me if I’m already this huge I’m certainly going to be REALLY HUGE by the time I deliver. I could tell in his face he was genuinely trying to be nice, but still…not too brilliant.

It seems to me that there is a certain insanity among those who would say insulting things to a woman whose hormones are raging in such a way that you never know how she’ll react. I usually possess enough self-control to push down the impulse to punch them or snap back irrationally, but I can’t promise that my strength will prevail every time. I admit that it is making me cranky! Maybe writing it all out here will alleviate some of the frustration and return me to a state of “normal”…at least that’s what I’m hoping for.

I made a decision at the beginning of this adventure that I would wear my baby belly proudly and I will continue to show off my HUGE-ness with a smile. However, please say a quick prayer that I don’t deck any poor, unsuspecting, well-intentioned but extremely misguided, blabbermouth who happens to call me fatty on the wrong day. 🙂

An Angel in Sock Monkey Slippers

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She’s an angel in sock monkey slippers.

Her smile amazes me.

She sees the world in color without fear of what others may see.

She’s come along way since her little blond curls and her belief that apples made her superman.

She’s stronger than most and wiser than her peers.

She’s brilliant and discerning.

She’s conquering her fears.

 

She’s an angel in sock monkey slippers looking for the right angle.

I love her determined focus when she sees an opportunity.

I love her sense of humor, her integrity, the sound of her laughter.

I’m very proud of the young woman she’s becoming.

 

She’s my angel in sock monkey slippers.

We can drive each other mad at times.

Still, I love our time together, fake accents and spontaneous singing.

I love talking with her about random things.

I love that I get to be her mom.

Dream on Sock Monkey!

 

 

On Changes and Eggs

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I love to get a good deal. It’s almost a hobby. I say almost, because the truth is, I’m only obsessive about it sometimes and then I get bored. I guess I’m like that in a lot of areas, but I digress. One deal I recently ran into allowed me to get several new magazine subscriptions for free! Big smile!  FREE!!!!  (Mental picture of me standing on my dining room table screaming “Freedom” William Wallace style…don’t worry I didn’t really do that). I snagged some magazines for my hubby and a few that I’d never read but seemed relatively intriguing. I totally dig reading and sometimes crave the randomness found in a magazine so I was thrilled.

The crazy thing that I’m realizing though is that as I peruse through the articles before me, I find myself inspired in so many different ways. I’m instantly ready to try something new. Not earth shattering, morality, changing kind of stuff of course. As everyone who knows me can tell you I’m stubborn and opinionated about virtually everything of importance. Rather, I’m ready to try new things in the mundane areas of my life. I’m willing to completely reinvent my hairdo on a whim or change my wardrobe just to experiment. I’ll want to redecorate my house for no reason, other than maybe the kids left a mess so rather than just clean it, I’ll redo it ALL.

Maybe I should find some crazy art deco piece at a garage sale and paint the house to match or use it to inspire a new outfit or cut up an old outfit and sew it back together with remnants from other outfits to catch the spirit of the piece that so uniquely expresses me…or who I want to be.

I realize this sounds incredibly crazy. But the beauty of it is found in the fact that I am allowed to be who I am. I am free to be ME and I guess a part of me is still unburying who that really is from under my former life. I try not to talk too much about my past, but the truth is, here on the other side looking back I gain so much perspective and appreciation for where I am now.

I had an epiphany last week while stealing eggs from my husband. I cannot make that sentence make sense without a little bit of back-story, so indulge me.

My ex husband was extremely controlling (understatement alert). I wasn’t allowed to eat certain foods because he didn’t like them. That even sounds weird to me as I type it, but it was my life. Rather than fight and suffer the consequences of arguing with him, I ate my eggs scrambled for TEN years! (There were a myriad of other issues far more extreme than this that led to our divorce – disclaimer – I didn’t divorce over eggs…moving on). After the wedding, so many things that were uniquely me were forced into isolation. I had to hide who I was in so many areas for so long that I cannot describe the freedom that comes with being able to breathe again.

My daughter once told me that when I started dating my husband, there were things she thought were an act for his benefit that she later realized were actually the real me who she’d never known. A sad and scary sentence but it is so true. I am now a completely free woman who is married to her hero and best friend and who can eat her eggs any way she likes, which brings me full circle.

Last week, James was eating his breakfast and I stole a bite of his eggs (cooked over medium) and remembered that my entire life, minus ten ridiculous years, I ate my eggs over medium and now I am free to eat them that way again.

I can also wear clothes that I like. I can keep my hair short, long, medium, wavy, straight or in a bun. I can sing as loudly as I want in my own home. I can rearrange the furniture or paint the kitchen or cook for hours. I can work or clean or write or read or play my guitar without repercussions. I am FREE!!!

I’ve also learned that allowing myself to hide from who I am is insulting to me and to God who made me just like this and who cares about my silly thoughts. He loves me for me. My husband loves me for me. I am happy.

Movement

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This morning when I woke up, the outer bands of Isaac were still making their way across Southwest Florida. It was beautiful. We slept peacefully last night to the sound of the rain. School was cancelled so we didn’t have to get up at five AM which was a plus.

I looked out the window and saw strips and gatherings of clouds scattered across the sky moving as if with a mission setting off to find their allies. They are still moving quickly, leaving enough space between them to let small banners of sunlight peek through.

I am praying for those on the other end of the Gulf Coast who may be impacted far more than we were. I pray that Isaac will dissipate completely before ever reaching land.

The thing that keeps striking me this morning though is the movement. When I opened the Bible this morning, the first scripture jumping off the page at me was Isaiah 55:10-11 “For as the rain comes down and the snow from heaven, And do not return there, but water the earth and make it bring forth and bud, that it may give seed to the sower and bread to the earth. So shall my word be that goes forth from my mouth. It shall not return to me void, but it shall accomplish what I please and it shall prosper in the thing for which I sent it.”

I keep looking out the window at the clouds moving by like an army marching to battle. I can’t help but stare at the canal behind my house where the water is moving faster than ever; drops marching collectively as if to the cadence of a masterful drummer. That’s how His word is. It’s sent forth with a specific purpose into the earth. Every word designed and precisely ordered to accomplish what He pleases.

We are going to be held accountable for our words. Are the words we speak designed to produce life or do we merely speak just for the sake of talking? Are we diligent about loving the lost or are we quick to use our tongues as swords against them?

I pray that my actions, thoughts and words are in cadence with the rhythm coming forth from the throne of God. I pray the words of my mouth and meditations of my heart would be acceptable in His sight. (Psalm 19:14) Perhaps as we move in purpose, it will make way for His light to shine through the shadows.

Even though the rain must fall from time to time, His light is always there enveloping the earth with warmth and abundance. His love invaded the earth to overthrow sin and death that once held us captive. I, for one, desire to follow Him to battle and help to release the prisoners of war still bound and longing to taste freedom. I pray my actions and my words always reflect that.

Our words should be like water to the thirsty soul. Our mouths should be carriers of truth to the parched earth below. We should see life and good fruit from what we say and do.

Isaiah 55 also says that His thoughts are not our thoughts and His ways are not our ways. I know His ways are so much higher than ours yet I can’t help but desire that His desires would become my desires. I want to think like He does and connect with His heartbeat. I know that so often I am not tuned into His cadence and His voice. I am thankful that He brings the occasional windy, rainy, storm to come along and recapture my attention.

Of Life and Pinatas

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My son just turned six as you can see by my previous post “Birthday Thoughts from a Mushy Mom”. In typical “mushy mom” fashion, I let him convince me that he NEEDED a piñata to celebrate properly. Even in the store while purchasing said piñata all I could think about was America’s Funniest Home Videos and how it seems nothing good can ever come from such a thing…which led to my thinking about how on earth I could convince my husband to help in this activity as usually it’s the man assisting who ends up getting whacked in conspicuous places.

My husband and stepfather proved to be very wise men. They configured a pulley system of sorts from which to hang the piñata while providing ample distance between them and the onslaught of small people swinging bats. This also provided the perfect opportunity to mess with the youngsters by moving the piñata at random times thus disorienting them. You can watch what happened as my nephew Malachi stepped up to bat in the following video

We spent a lot of time laughing that day and I’ve watched all of the videos I took of all of the kids taking a whack at it, and I’ve laughed some more. Still, the last couple of days it’s gotten me thinking…

I can’t help but think that often I’m just a kid with a bat swinging randomly hoping for contact. God’s watching and probably laughing at me from time to time. Maybe He’s even moving the piñata occasionally to see if I’ll stay centered & listen for the sound as the prize inside swishes around.

We all have blindfolds on. Maybe it’s just the concept that we see through a glass dimly until we see Him face to face. Maybe it’s just that we allow things to get between us and Him and cover our eyes. The biggest tragedy isn’t when we can’t see, it’s when we don’t listen. He that has an ear, let him hear.

The kids eventually succeeded in breaking open the piñata and enjoying its spoils and so will we as long as we patiently endure. “And so, after he had patiently endured, he obtained the promise.” Hebrews 6:15

Lord, help me to keep swinging and listen carefully.