life

A Note to my Future Self on Thankfulness

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Morning view from my back porch

Morning view from my back porch

This morning I wasn’t myself. Don’t ask me who I was…just someone different.

All the things on my mind were hazy under the fog still attached to me from lack of sleep. Ambitions for coming endeavors sat numb on my tongue. Words came out but didn’t really connect with my brain. I told the Lord I really had nothing to say. No inspiration was moving my spirit to action.

In that soft and loving way He sometimes speaks, I heard him say, “How about saying thank you?” Then baby man smiled at me and I remembered stopping to watch the way the light slowly illuminated the backyard with the dawn as I walked by the window. I remembered the rise and blend of colors in the sunrise as it peeked over the trees. I thanked Him. I am so blessed!

Days come when I struggle to muster up words, divine things to move big mountains, revelations to bend will into submission to spirit. I try to inspire and encourage others and myself with grandeur, love and perspective. Maybe everything would fall into place if I woke up tomorrow and remembered to thank Him.

I write this now when things are good to remind myself on days when life seems ‘not so good’.  His faithfulness is never dictated by my circumstances. Future self, remember to give thanks in everything!

 

I Wanna’ Be Just Like You

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Flyboy turned 7 yesterday! I am always a little nostalgic on birthdays. I can never quite wrap my mind and heart around how fast it all goes. When you are a young mother, everyone tells you to treasure every moment because it goes so fast and you can’t really fathom it. I know I always thought it a strange statement. Did they really think I was trying to squander the time? Now that I’m older, and my oldest just turned 16, and my Angel in Sock Monkey Slippers is 13, and Flyboy is 7, and I’m holding my 7 week old, I get it. It really does go fast.

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We took Flyboy to a mini amusement park to have a day of adventure for his birthday. He’d been once before and I had heard so much about how awesome the Cobra Coaster was. When we got there we discovered the catch. He refused to ride the coaster without dad. Dad looked a little silly in the small car with Flyboy tucked securely in his armpit, eyes closed tight and holding on for dear life. With dad, the Cobra Coaster was awesome. Without dad, the Cobra Coaster was an insurmountable obstacle.

The go-karts were the same. He had to watch dad drive the big ones before he would even dare to enter the rookie track.

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He woke up this morning in anticipation for the epic Nerf gun battle Dad promised for today. He’s been the happiest boy on the planet since Dad taught him how to play Skip-Bo the other night (especially since he won the second game).

The big smiles serve as a reminder to me that what our kids really need is us, our time, our attention, our lives lived purposefully before them. Ephesians 5:15 “Look carefully then how you walk! Live purposefully and worthily and accurately”  Our kids are watching us. They are imitating and we should be imitating our father. Ephesians 5:1 “Therefore be imitators of God as dear children.”  There is no greater responsibility.

Last night, Bubba Boo (our nickname for our newborn. Dad joked about naming him after his two favorite Florida boy golfers, Bubba Watson and Boo Weekly, and now he’s Bubba Boo Dandridge.) was having a colicky moment. I was walking with him, holding him close and praying for him and my other children.  My prayers so often turn to awe. I’m amazed that God chose me to raise these amazing little ones. I have the privilege of being with them everyday and showing them the love of an infinite creator who is intensely interested in them, in us. I get to assist the Lord in showing them that they have purpose and destiny. They are able to do amazing things to affect change in this world and I get to be a small part of that. That amazes me. I get the honor of knowing them. They are extraordinary people and I count that as such a blessing.

I want more than anything to be more like my Father everyday. I want to decrease as the Lord of all increases in my life. I know that if I press toward that goal, my kids will then imitate me and therefore be more like Him as well.

Lord, help me to be a godly mother. Lead and guide my husband and I as we walk through this life with little ones in tow. May they learn to be Christlike as we imitate you. I wanna’ be just like you!

Doing dishes is a waste of time. They just grow back!

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CleanI’ve decided that doing dishes is a waste of time. They just grow back! Especially in my house with teenagers and their smaller siblings running rampant. They hide in dark corners and conspire about how to get yet ANOTHER cup when my back is turned. And it doesn’t help that the older ones have learned to cook. I come home from work to find that they’ve become creative gourmets without the aid of a full-time dishwasher. Granted, they are old enough that I can pull the “I’m the mom and YOU can do the dishes” card. But still, the reality exists that there are always dirty dishes around no matter how many times we wash them.

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Life is like that. We do the same things over and over. We sleep, we wake, we eat, we read our Bibles, say our prayers, work, talk to friends, drive the same roads, cuddle with our kids, laugh, eat again, pay the bills, empty the pantry, go to the grocery store, come back home, lather, rinse, repeat…and it’s wonderful. Somehow, in the midst of the sameness, there’s always an adventure. There’s joy and comfort. We humans like consistency after all.

Our spiritual lives echo this pattern. We die to ourselves daily (1 Cor. 15:31). We read the same Bible over and over and never even begin to exhaust its bounty. We pray daily and it continues to refresh and revive us. We “repent and do the first works” (Rev. 2:5) um, more than once. The cool thing is that no matter how many times we blow it and dirty things up, there’s always a dishwasher. His grace is sufficient for me! (2 Cor. 12:9)

Dishwasher

 

Okay, maybe doing dishes isn’t such a waste of time after all.

Behind the Broken Glass

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Crack in the window

I’m standing in a room alone. It’s dark, foggy, shadowy and gray. Before me, a mirror stands singularly. It’s the centerpiece of the room. It’s as if my presence there is more triviality than importance. Everything revolves around this monument of reflective glass. It haunts me.

Though it has no voice, I can almost hear it calling me into its solitary world. The room begins to spin. I hear jeers and laughter. Whispers from the past combine into dissonant noise that surrounds me, spinning, spiraling with noxious intent. They wrap me up and I find myself face to face with this fragile monster and I allow myself to look deeply.

The image before me is clear at first, just plain ol’ me with my pale, freckled skin, sharp features, ordinary hair, small, uneventful eyes, thin lips. As I stare, the image begins to change before me. From my perspective, it’s as if it’s zooming in and becoming clearer. It feels as though I’m really seeing myself for the first time. Every line, dimple and extra pound expands. I never realized how much weight I’d really accumulated with my last pregnancy. I’d never realized how pallid and sallow looking my skin had become. My long, natural hair used to be beautiful and flowing. I always thought it was lovely. Now it looks stringy, unkempt and dull. I feel as if there should be a law about letting oneself look like this. What have I allowed myself to become?  Corners

From the other side, I see this whole scene unfold. Suddenly, I’m an outside observer watching the event as if it were a movie playing in 3D. I still feel everything but reality is with me and I am aware.

As she stands before the mirror the glass shifts and shakes, contorting slowly, imperceptibly to her. Cracks and jagged, broken edges jut out in various places causing her reflection to look more like something she might see in a fun house mirror than true form.

I’m standing behind the broken glass watching her weary face, hearing her thoughts as she contemplates her new diet and exercise program (which will start TOMORROW). I feel her shame. She wants to hide, to blend in with the crowd just outside this room and pray they don’t see her at all. If she can avoid being seen until she fixes everything wrong with her, maybe she’ll be okay. Maybe the monster will release her from this prison. But some things she can’t change. What then?

From behind the broken glass, I see her. I see who she really is. She is beautiful. I see her dignity, her faith, her strength, the sparkle in her eye, the grace in her smile. She is so much more than the lies the mirror keeps telling her.

WindowI reach through the glass with both hands wide. I call to her. I take her hand and help her through to the other side.

Suddenly, the room is clear. The fog and gray are now light and clarity. I open my eyes, whole. I am home. I can still feel the glass like a distant presence. I know it’s there. I know it will fight to pull me in again but I am no longer afraid. I know now it’s broken. It has no hold on me.

Now I will look for it. When I see it appear, maybe I can have the opportunity to reach through and help another captured soul through to the other side. Behind the broken glass there is a world of freedom.

Keep it Simple

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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!

Adoration

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I’m sitting in a quiet room, baby in my arms. Soft and warm, nuzzled tightly to my chest breathing in. Tiny sighs and squeaks eek out occasionally as lips move to reflexive smile or the impulse to nurse though his mouth is empty. He sleeps and I adore him.

My husband lies across the room still, resting after a long day’s work. I watch him. Eyes closed, peaceful and strong and I am thankful. With strength and persistence he provides for us. So diligent, so faithful. Then loving, he comes home to me with smiles, a tender embrace and kind words. Now he sleeps and I adore him.

The sun is sitting low and casting light through the stained glass into my cozy little nest. the way it alters the hue and brings sparkle and shimmer to substance fills me with wonder. I don’t stop enough to admire the beauty.

Then he looks at me. Blue eyes lit with something deep and extraordinary. I become fully awake in the joy and love behind his eyes. I’m captivated. He is mine and I adore him.

 

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

Lazy Soldier

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My quiet time is evolving. Where I once sat cozy on the couch with coffee on the table beside me and a mountain of books, three different translations of the Bible, a devotional, whatever Christian living book I happened to be in the middle of etc., now I sit with baby on one arm and tablet or IPhone in the other perusing my Bible app and the R.A. Torrey book I downloaded with my Kindle. I sneak in verses from the “real” paper and binding version of the Bible here and there throughout the day when passing by. It’s not bad, just a different experience.

This morning I was reading in Jeremiah and then Matthew and what kept coming to me was that the amount of relationship we have with God is entirely up to us. He constantly encourages us to seek Him. In that, in our seeking, He is faithful to be found and to draw near to us. We hold in our hands the ability to either be near Him or distant. Not the most earth shattering revelation but as I adjust to my new routine, I find myself needing to sneak in moments of intimacy with the Lord. I have to grab a scripture here and there instead of spending an hour soaking up the richness of the word. I have to remind myself to pray when I’m glued to the chair being a mommy. All of the sudden, my relationship and intimacy with God isn’t easy or easily attained. I have to dig for it. I have to seek and pursue and want it desperately, something that admittedly, I forget to do sometimes. I’m starting to think this is a good thing.

“As we advance in life it becomes more and more difficult, but in fighting the difficulties the inmost strength of the heart is developed.” – Vincent Van Gogh

“And from the days of John the Baptist until now the kingdom of heaven suffers violence, and the violent take it by force.” Matthew 11:12

We tend to fight for and work for the things that matter the most to us. I so often hear people complain that they have no time to read the Bible or no time to pray and I can understand this completely. It is difficult to carve out moments in the day when the demands of this world can be stilled in the mind long enough to truly focus on scripture. It is difficult to silence the voices of this world that press into our minds (all the things to be done, all the things said to us, all the happenings around us) long enough to engage in active and meaningful prayer. I contend that in those difficulties, we can attain the greatest prize. We, with violent persistence, can resolve to fight for that which really matters. We tiptoe clumsily through this mundane existence, watching life go by us and forget that this is merely a drop in the ocean of eternity. This life, this here and now, is fleeting and only that which is eternal will matter. Shouldn’t we diligently fight to find those moments of clarity? Shouldn’t we run with all that we are to the wellspring and remember to drink deep?

I fear I have become a lazy soldier. I pray today that I will begin to violently run toward that which matters. I pray that in that pursuit, I might become strong. I pray that in ALL things, I would learn to seek first the Kingdom of God and His righteousness. At the end of the day, that is the prize and nothing else matters.

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Perspective

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Photo by Rachel Woodland (my daughter)

The sun sits full above the earth beneath. The day is in motion, bustling as my list gets longer though I work through tasks one by one. I am taking this moment to still myself and realize how blessed I truly am. Tiny baby feet kick my middle filling my heart with love and the knowledge that everything’s okay. The older kids are off to school and I know I’ll see their smiles soon and have a chance to hug them and laugh with them.
We sold my old van yesterday…the one I refused to drive at some point because it was just too unreliable and I wanted better. We sold it for the amount the junk yard was willing to pay us for the scrap metal. The family that picked it up was so thankful and appreciative and felt privileged to be able to drive it home. We told them about every problem it had, every hiccup, the fact that the a/c was broken and the passenger’s side window couldn’t be rolled down because it wouldn’t go back up, the missing headliner, yet they talked about how they’d never let the kids eat in it and mess it up, how precious a blessing it was to them. I realized our perspective was skewed. I realized how blessed I truly am.
The funny thing is that I can remember the days when there wasn’t food in the pantry and the car didn’t run and the floors had holes and the house had rats. I remember the beans and cornbread for weeks straight because that was all we could afford. When I lost perspective I don’t know, but somehow I forgot to remember to be thankful for the blessings I have now. Worldly possessions matter so little, but I can so easily take them for granted or worry about how we’re going to pay for the baby that’s on the way or whatever.
Yet here I am, in my comfortable home, with clothes on my back, food in the kitchen, transportation in the driveway, kids that amaze me daily, a husband who overwhelms me with love, a new baby bouncing to the rhythm of the keys as I type reminding me of life and new beginnings; and I can become overwhelmed by the trivial.
Lord, let me never forget to thank you. Let me stop when the hectic hits and gain a little perspective. Let me remember to hold everything in my life with an open hand realizing that it all belongs to you. Let me give freely and love deeply. Let me surrender everything for the sake of your kingdom. All you ever asked for was all of me and I am yours.

Forgiveness

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Gripping my heart, the things I thought I’d let go, fingers flexed to squeeze out tears and the strangest of fears. I thought I’d forgiven. I guess there’s still work to be done.

I had a strange dream a few weeks ago about someone I haven’t thought about in years. This person happened to be on the short list of two individuals I can think of in my life that I had the hardest time forgiving. I don’t really know what brought about this reminiscence but just before I woke up I heard the Lord speaking to my heart that we were going back until I’d dealt with it once and for all.  I really didn’t think I had any issue with this person whatsoever anymore.

Now the other one on the short list, I can acknowledge, still haunts me from time to time. There are days when, though I’ve forgiven repeatedly, the disgust and anger find a way of coming up and sitting in the back of my throat like bile. My husband is so great at catching these moments and reminding me to get it under control. I’m so thankful for him.

This week, I realized how much more work I need to do in this area. There’s a difference between shoving the feelings aside and dealing with them until they’ve been fully uprooted from the soil of the soul. Maybe true forgiveness is a process in which God is faithful enough to remind us about the roots still clinging tightly at just the right moment when we are strong enough to tug them out. Maybe He works on different sections of the garden of our heart because we can’t handle the pain if He did it all at once. I don’t know. I can only relate my experience and my shortcomings.

My ex-husband was a drug addict (I optimistically choose to use the word “was” there in hopes that he is in fact doing better though the bile of cynicism is attempting to creep up even now as I write). The entirety of our marriage was a roller coaster of issues between drug relapses, outbursts of wrath and malice toward me and our kids, pornography, prostitutes and strippers, finally leaving me no choice but divorce. I am so thankful that God protected me and my children through all of the chaos and that He’s brought us to where we are today. I believe that these experiences have served to make me stronger and prepared me for my life. As Corrie Ten Boom said, “This is what the past is for! Every experience God gives us, every person He puts in our lives is the perfect preparation for a future only He can see”. Still, there are memories, I’d love to forget.

My husband and I have been helping and counseling a family recently who are dealing with issues very similar to my old life and consequently, I am facing memories of the past that aren’t pleasant. In one situation this week, I found myself paralyzed after flashbacks of certain situations came flooding in. Then all of a sudden, with the anger and pain of the memories, a bizarre fear crept in that maybe someday my perfectly amazing husband, who has restored my faith in mankind, could somehow fall victim to some of these atrocious sins and I could end up right back where I came from dealing with the same issues over again.  In the brain, it makes no sense, but in the realm of the soul where my emotions are being sloshed together with pregnancy hormones it hit me like an avalanche and I realized that maybe I’m not as “over it” as I once thought I was. 

All of this, though painful and raw, causes me to be so thankful! In His infinite mercy, God is allowing me to see the areas that still need tending so now, I can move toward healing. Were it not for these moments, I’d still be pushing aside little annoyances and snide comments every time the ex’s name was mentioned. Were it not for moments like these, I’d be walking around with bitterness in my heart unable to move forward. Once light is shined in darkness, the dim is forced to yield to the brightness! That is so comforting to me. I can rest confidently knowing that God is faithful and just to complete the work He began in my heart long ago and bring me to a place of true freedom. When the tears and fears are squeezed to surface, his living water can come in and refresh my soul.

Thank you Lord for every ache, every pain and every tear as long as they draw me nearer to you!