My MVP

Mother's Day was a blessing from my family as they did all they could think to make me feel special, but I couldn't help but think of my amazing husband, Jay, the entire day. The Mama KD story about the real MVP has been heard a lot this week, and its application to all mamas being the real MVP of the family. However, I really believe it is my husband and father to my children that is the real MVP in our family.

When he is with us, I have no worries or burdens and when he leaves I feel the weight of his responsibility to care for and protect us all as it passes to me. 

Last week we all went biking. We were about 10 miles out and Jay's tire went flat. He had to walk his bike the rest of the way, so he left me with the kids to ride on back to our car. As soon as he was out of sight and we had left him far behind, I felt that weight. Up to that point I had just followed, worry free, but in that moment that he was no longer with me, I felt the dangers of the ride, and the sun and the people all around and the weight of the responsibility I had to keep my kids safe. I suddenly bore it alone and hadn't realized how much strength he had to carry that burden and make it feel so light for me. When I am gone, he is a superstar dad that keeps everything running smoothly his way, not mine. I left for the weekend to do some homeschool shopping, get some time off, and catch up with a dear friend. When I came home, everything was as it should be and not one person had a horrible story or a complaint. He says it is chaos when I am gone, but I know that it is just isn't my world, it's his. Where as he gives me respit from the burden of safety caring for the safety and provisions for the family, I give him peace with some organization to their lives. But even when I am gone, he manages better than he thinks. When I hit the wall and can go no further, he has the strength to continue on and let me rest. I am always amazed at how much more energy he has than me, how much less sleep on which he can function than me, and how little he cares that I can not do nearly as much work as he can. He goes so much further than is possible for me. When my eyes and my body are finished and the most I can muster is a delegating mama on the couch, he is still working on his honey do list even though I have given him permission to chill out for a while. 

On top of all of it, he loves us all so much and puts us first in a world that tells men that their family is secondary to all of their own selfish desires. This world views a man that cares for his family above all else, as a failure. Men should aspire to success in their careers, the amount of money he makes, his looks, his car, and everything under the sun except how he treats and cares for his family. A man that chooses his family over a high paying job is a failure to the world, but to his kids he is the biggest hero on earth. My Jay has stood in front of the flaming arrows for his family. I can't say how many times I've watched him be beat up and shot down for his family. He has lost a job for his son's sake. He has made others mad to be able to care for me. 

I feel as though mother's day should really just be a first Father's day, because although I am appreciated and loved, He really is the irreplaceable MVP.

The Breaking of the Morning

Grabbing her nude lipstick, she looked at herself in the mirror and suddenly realized, "I look like I'm on a date with Jackson, not a business meeting!" Her cheeks flushed and heart began pounding out of her chest.
"What am I going to do? This isn't a date, and he's not Jackson!"

Emily, held back the tears that threatened to streak her makeup as she threw the lipstick back in her purse.
His voice echoed in her mind as she stared at the old, worn out tube. "I love that shade on your lips. It gives them life but doesn't take away from their natural beauty. It just makes me want to lose myself in your kisses."

A few tears breached through their prison door. Most days she could hold them back, but not today.

"Jackson is gone," she repeated her mantra out loud to remind herself of the reality.

"Jackson died 10 months ago. He is not meeting me here. Declan is here and this is not a date. This is a planning meeting, not a date. Now pull yourself together Emily!"
Declan had already texted  her, "I am a running a little early. If you want to tell me what you like, I'll have your coffee waiting here for you."

Thoughtful. Declan was more than thoughtful. He was a gentleman, the kind women can only hope for. The kind that would have been the epitome of chivalry at King Arthur's Knights of the Round Table. It only took one evening at a friend's party last week to remember that much about him. The summer they spent together almost two decades ago had confirmed to her that true gentlemen were out there, although a severely endangered species.
This morning she guessed he wasn't just "running" early, but made a point to be there early, probably to have an excuse to buy her coffee so there would be no back and forth about who will or won't buy.

Reaching back in her purse, she grabbed the red lipstick she wore more often now that Jackson was gone. She couldn't bear the thought of running out of that nude lipstick, the one that made her late husband swoon over her. Over the last 10 months, she hadn't even considered wearing it until today; she knew why she wanted to wear it today, to this meeting, but she was unwilling to allow herself to feel hopeful, especially in love again.

It was too late to change out of her current outfit that consisted of one of Jackson's favorite blouses, but she could choose a different shade of lipstick.

Walking to the door of the coffee house, Emily was surprised as the door swung open and  to reveal Declan, waiting at the door for her.

"Oh, wow. Now that's front door service," she laughed nervously, trying to sound light-hearted and pleasant.

"I, uh, saw you drive in." Declan smiled.

Emily felt her heart sink as she stepped inside the coffee shop. "So, did you see my little breakdown in there? I'm sorry. It's just that..."

"It's okay, Em. If this is a bad time, we can reschedule, or I can just find someone else."

"No. No. I mean, I want to do this; I like the distraction, and it's just one of those days. It's only been 10 months since Jackson died and I still have bad days where something hits me unexpectedly. Today is one of those days."

"I'm sorry."  His voice was low and uncertain. Emily hated these awkward conversations followed by an even more awkward silence.
"I know this is probably a stupid question, and one you get asked all the time, but is there anything I can do to help?"

It was trite. No one could truly help. What she needed was Jackson. No one could help her unless they could bring Jackson back somehow, or make the pain and emptiness magically disappear. It was a useless question.
Before she could give her polite, "No, I'm fine, really," answer, Declan's eyes got wide as he handed her the biggest mocha she'd ever seen. .

"Never mind, that was stupid of me. I have an idea. Are you up for a little road trip?"

"I hope it will require lots of activity, because if I drink all this I will be bouncing off the walls." She stared wide eyed at the gallon of coffee in her hand.

"Sorry," he unknowingly gave her that smoldering smile she had imprinted on her brain all week. "I wasn't sure what size you'd want so I figured you could drink what you want, instead of wishing for more."

Thoughtful indeed.

"Actually it's just the opposite, it's a peaceful place. I think you'll like it."


Declan pulled into the lake campground a few minutes later, making Emily a little uneasy.

"I hate to break it to you Declan, but I'm wearing a skirt and heels. Hiking, boating, or swimming isn't really what I was planning for a business meeting this morning." She couldn't help but poke fun at him for his location choice.

"It's okay, I have some spare swim suits in the trunk. It'll be fine." He was stone faced and completely serious. Emily's smile faded fast.
"I'm not wearing a bathing suit in front of this guy!" she thought.

"I'm just kidding! Don't worry! You look like you're going to punch me or something."

Thoughtful, funny, and witty.

"You had me. I was trying to think of an excuse! I was just going to go with, 'No! Way!" Emily no longer worried about letting hope in. It was the furthest thing from her mind. She was laughing for the first time in months, without forcing it, or feeling the tight grip of guilt for being happy without Jackson.

"See that bench over there? That's where we're going." It was early and the sunrise was just kicking off it's morning show with bright colors and orange clouds streaking across the sky. It was breathtaking.

Declan sat a good distance from Emily on the bench, turning his body in her direction he began. "This is where I go when I just need..." he let out a sigh as if he was trying to find the right word. "rest. When I feel like I'm drowning in worries and anxiety, I come here and watch the sun rise. It makes me think of Lamentations, 'His mercies are new every morning,' and then I feel at peace again. I thought maybe it might do the same for you."

Declan then just sat silent, not saying anything, while Emily watched the sunrise colors morph into a bright morning sun, glistening off the placid lake. A few more tears escaped their iron clad prison again, but Declan pretended not to notice.
"Thank you." she forced the words out of her clenched throat through a whisper. His arm was stretched across the back of the bench. Without turning toward her, he moved his hand to her shoulder. She patted his hand to say "thanks". Without even thinking, she picked up his arm, moving her body closer to his and placing his arm around her shoulders. She felt the comfort of his warm body close to her, dispelling the emptiness that had become familiar as she watched the sun warm the cold, empty surface of the land, bringing light and  life to all that lived there. Declan didn't protest or move a muscle, but watched the day come alive beside her, in silence.

Let It Be

This is absolutely, beyond a doubt, my favorite picture as a mother for more reasons than you might think.

 I remember this day so well. I remember how tired and wore out I had become. My hormones were crazy, I was getting little to no sleep, and I had four other children that needed attention, food, schooling, and refereeing in addition to the consistently needy newborn. I was barely hanging on.
My mom set up this photo session at her house. The photographer was a friend to her and wanted to give this to my mother as a gift. Truly I was the one who received the gift. It was God's provision because had it not been offered and planned by an outside party, I would have none of these precious memories preserved. Over the following year my body gave up on me. My thyroid and multiple essential processes for life began to shut down and I found myself unable to get out of bed in the morning. I have little to no memories, but I have these pictures.

Most people look at this picture and see that angelic baby face and a mama in love with her new son. When I peel my eyes away from the angel baby, I see black eyes, hair that's not fixed, and a mama just trying to do her best with what she was given.

That morning, I did my best to dress my children for their pictures and make the memory of them from this day look worthy to be digitally embedded for eternity. It was all I could muster. It wasn't much. I wanted to be in the picture, but I could hardly make myself look acceptable. I wore very little makeup, a T-shirt and some athletic pants. My hair needed fixing. I sometimes wonder if the photographer didn't take one look at me and think, "No way am I going to be able to make these pictures work with her looking like that."

But she did. Honestly, I think it was all those factors that make this picture so perfect. I don't take good pictures... ever. Not even the most talented photographers have been able to capture good pictures of me. I have seen the look on their face over and over again after snapping that camera, wondering why I look so awkward or unnatural. They've tried to coach me and help me, but it always turns out the same. My mouth turns down naturally which makes me appear as if I'm frowning, unless I have a big smile on my face. I feel uncomfortable on display, which is translated and exaggerated by a camera lens.

This day, I didn't try. I just was. I reconciled myself to this bland version of me, knowing it couldn't be any worse than all those times I actually tried.

It was in the giving up of trying to capture the perfect image that allowed me to have this honest image. This is me. My mouth may turn down naturally and make it difficult to capture a good smile, but it doesn't matter here. My eyes may have been black from exhaustion and illness, but it doesn't matter here. It's me.
Turns out the honest, raw version of myself is the one I like the most. Of course, the baby helps an awful lot too since I can't take my eyes off him.

Four years later I am so grateful I allowed this to happen despite my lack of preparation. I am so grateful I didn't obsess over not having everything perfect. I'm so thankful I just let it be. 

American Heroes and God's Heroes

My Love and I went out to see American Sniper the other night. I have been fascinated by this man's story for the last two years, since I watched his wife give his eulogy at his funeral. This was a well-known warrior, but I had never heard his name until that day I saw his casket placed perfectly over the Dallas Cowboys' star. I was suddenly filled with sorrow that I had never known who he was in life.

The book was always on my "to read" list, but with a household to care for and five kids to homeschool, a home-based business, and an obsession with writing, reading hasn't been priority lately.

But then there was the movie. I had to see it. I needed to see it. I don't know why. I don't like war movies.

Maybe it was because the thought of standing and speaking about my just-murdered husband to thousands, or millions of people, with the strength and courage I saw his wife speak that day, inspires me to face what scares me most. Maybe it's because I want to know what kind of man could have touched so many lives that his funeral should be held in the largest building I have ever seen. Maybe it was that he was Texan, and no matter how much I joke about or make fun of Texans, I know that Texas is still so much of who I am, so I feel a connection to a fallen Texan hero.

I didn't know why, but I had to see the movie.

Honestly, there was a one-dimensionality about his character in the movie, but it was that vacuum I felt in watching it, that drew me in even more, recognizing that that was just a cover for something so much more complicated hiding behind his simplicity. Something about him, was familiar. Something about who he was, what he believed, why he did what he did, the way he loved his wife and his kids, and that "thing" that drove him to be the hero that he lived to be, was so familiar... in my husband.

I still couldn't figure it out. My husband is not a fighter, or a warrior. If you pick a fight with him, he'll most likely walk away or take it without hitting back, not that he couldn't. Given the right circumstances, like someone hurting one of his kids or me, he could do some real damage to someone's face.But he's not the hero type that runs into a burning building. He's not the kind of guy that faces a threat with his own gun. No, he just gives them what he wants and prays he can walk away unharmed. So why in the world would this legendary hero make me think of my gentle husband?

Then it struck me, he is the same kind of hero, in a different realm.

Chris Kyle killed physical enemies from a rooftop, to protect his boys. He went into buildings ahead of them to make sure they stayed safe.

Kyle was driven by his loyalty to his country, and his value and his morals and his beliefs.

Kyle was even driven by his love for his wife and kids, his brother and parents, and all people.

Kyle struggled between his loyalty and love for his wife and kids and his loyalty and love for his country and the soldiers out there fighting.

Even greater, Kyle was driven not just by the love for his fellow Americans, but by a love for all people, especially the innocent, the oppressed and even those related to the enemy trying to kill him.

My husband, a pastor by calling, is a warrior just like Kyle except the enemy he is fighting is in the spiritual world.
When my husband is acting as a pastor, he is fighting and running down enemies in the spiritual world, enemies no one can see, to protect the church, the believers, and his family.

He is driven by his loyalty to the Lord, by his values and morals and his beliefs.

He is driven by his love for me, and the kids and his parents and all people, especially the lost or oppressed.

He struggles daily between his loyalty and love for me and the kids and his loyalty and love for the Lord and the ministry to which he has been called. He struggles because if he drops the ball and doesn't reach that person, they don't just lose their life, they lose their soul.

Just like Kyle, my husband isn't just driven by the ones in his church or other good looking, nice Christians. It's the hard cases that he loves. He once found out a friend had been hurt by the church and no longer attended. His response was so classic as a pastor, "Oh good! I can do something about that!"


He sits on rooftops, shooting those enemies before they can reach the ones he is called to protect. He does it with the Word of God, with teaching the Word of God, and with prayers. Sometimes, he does it with just time or a hug.
When he was a children's pastor, he had an afterschool program at the church where the kids could just come and hang out and play games. There were some little girls that would just wrap their arms around him and not let go. He told me once, "I may be the only man in their life that loves them." He stood between the enemy and that little girl, with a hug. It doesn't seem like much, but in the world today, a man who just hugs a little girl, could be called something ugly, ruining not just his reputation but his life. But he hugged her anyway.
 Sometimes, he stands between the enemy and its target, taking a beating or a shot or two, without anyone ever being the wiser. Most of the time, those beatings come in order to protect his family. One of the worst beatings he ever endured lasted not days, not weeks and not months, but over a year. He took it for our son's sake. He was mistreated, abused mentally and emotionally, bullied and slandered, in order that we might do what was best for our son. But that's what good soldiers do, protect the people silently and without recognition.

You see Kyle didn't shoot down the guy that was aiming the bazooka at the US troops doing their job on the street, and then holler out, "Hey Guys! I got one! Look, right there! I took care of you!"
It was just understood.

In the movie an officer tells Kyle that those boys feel invincible knowing he is on the roof watching out for them. They can't see him, they don't know what it is that he does up there, but they know he's there watching over them and protecting them from the unseen enemy.

A pastor is the same. He doesn't stand in the pulpit and say, "Look at this enemy I destroyed for you, and the injury I sustained while battling him." But almost daily and weekly, a pastor is facing the unseen enemy and protecting his people. It may come in the form of a disgruntled member or something far worse like a flirtatious woman or even the temptation of pornography. He faces it with courage because he knows who is fighting the battle for him. It's when they face those enemies without the Lord being the one fighting the battle for them, when the pastor thinks he can extinguish the enemy all himself, that he loses.

When you watch the movie and you see The Butcher drilling a hole into the head of a child, Kyle trying desperately to get a shot at the monster but finding it impossible while yet another enemy is firing continually at him, you'll cringe. Imagine if you were the pastor, watching as the enemy drills a hole into the soul of a child, but you can't reach him in time because the enemy is firing rampantly at you from another direction. Now imagine you are that shooter, with your complaints and your dislikes and your threats. You are the enemy, preventing your pastor from doing his job because he can't get around you to help the others.

Most offenses people take in the church are stupid. They are.

Very few offenses on which people take action against their pastor are legitimate. Most revolve around something that starts out with "I don't like...." Guess what, a good pastor doesn't make decisions based on what he thinks you will like. He is only interested in pleasing the Lord, and willing to take the shots from people in order to please the Lord.

Most of the battles a pastor faces, are not with unbelievers. It is not a battle between whether or not homosexuality is okay with God. In fact, most unbelievers couldn't care less about what pastors think.

The majority of battles a pastor will face come from his own people, the very people he serves. Imagine if Kyle was trying to save that little boy, but it was his own men firing away at him. Imagine if while Kyle was trying to shoot that man with the Bazooka, the soldier the bazooka was aimed at was firing at Kyle. His job would be impossible. He would probably give up, go home and try to forget about protecting them.

This is happening every single day, every week.

Here is one example from the book Toxic Church.

"One of the greatest pains that wounded pastors have shared is how good friends and godly individuals within the congregation stood by and did nothing to stop the carnage" 

Do you know that most pastors want to quit? Hundreds of pastors choose to leave ministry every week, not because of unbelievers, liberals, democrats, homosexuals, pro-choicers, or any of those people. They leave the ministry because of Christians.
Now imagine, fighting that kind of battle against your very own people, the ones that you thought you were going to protect when you signed on the dotted line. Imagine if there was a scene in the movie where Kyle goes to shoot a bad guy with a bomb, and it is close to one of his soldiers. When the soldier realizes how close he was to the shot Kyle took, despite the fact that it was to protect his life, the soldier becomes angry and starts shooting back at Kyle. Now Kyle is being attacked by his own man and he can't just shoot him down. Not only that, but that soldier gets more soldiers riled up that starting firing away too. Now all a soldier can do is hide behind the wall from the onslaught of gunfire, talking on his walkie to the Commander, asking teh Commander to talk to the guys and get them to stop shooting at him. Meanwhile, the enemies are sitting by laughing at how the US soldiers are killing each other. All they have to do is just sit back and watch.

This is the current state of the American church in more cases than not. The pastor is being attacked by his own people, sometimes by other pastors.

And imagine, after finally escaping your ally that was shooting at you, going home to a wife and children who so desperately want more of you, but the battle has beat you down. Every time you sit down to have dinner, you get a call that someone else's child needs you right then or someone drops by and just wants a minute to talk with the pastor.
There were nights my kids missed out on time with their dad because he was expected to be at other kids' ball games. There were evenings he didn't spend with his children because another parent needed him to talk to their kid about salvation. There were days when he was supposed to be on vacation, but daily the calls came in wanting to know this or that. 
There were even times my kids made comments about how they wished their dad didn't have to spend so much time at the church and with other people so they could see him for a little while. 

When I watched that movie, I could relate to his wife so well. The desire to have my husband home with me, not at the ball game. The desire to go out on a date without having to do visitation first. The desire to let my kids be kids without judgement, or to make decisions for our family without having to get permission from people who care so little about us that they will take a shot to wound every chance they get.

I understood what it was to have my husband home, but not really, because his mind was still "there". I know what it is like to watch his personality disappear into oblivion, wondering how it would change my children and our marriage. I also know what it is like to have him give up the fight for a while, come home and come back to us. 

At the end of the movie, Kyle is caught in the middle of a huge fire fight. In order to take out the enemy that had been taking out many of their men, he reveals their presence on the rooftop of a building when he shoots and kills the enemy. As soon as he fires, extinguishing the enemy with a single bullet, hundreds more descend upon the building, thirsty for blood. This is the life of a pastor. Distinguishing an enemy doesn't bring rest and peace, it reveals your location to the enemy who descends upon you with terror in tow. This is how lives are destroyed. Sometimes he comes out alive, sometimes the whole family goes down in flames. I have seen it first hand more than once, unfortunately.

I am guilty of complaining and starting a sentence with "I don't like..." but the older I get the more I pray and beg God to keep me from being the enemy to my pastor and our church.

 Pray for your pastor the way you pray for our soldiers. God made warriors to fight wars and protect us from enemies. But He also set apart an entire tribe of people to be the spiritual warriors. Pray that God will equip them, strengthen them, and make his arrow true. Pray that God will fill him with courage, and despite whatever enemy he faces, may he never give up fighting for the ones for whom he has been ordained to protect, teach and lead. Pray that he is given adequate time with his wife and kids to lead them as a man of God should.

There is a scene in the movie when Kyle says something like, I wonder why I am here at home, perfectly capable, when there so many more out there that need me. That is the constant struggle of a pastor as well. "My family is home, with the knowledge of Jesus Christ, but there are so many out there that need the Gospel and I have it!"
The fact of the matter is, Kyle seemed to be something beyond human,or a modern day superhero, but he wasn't. He was just man with an extraordinary love for his country and his people. He made mistakes just like you and me. He bled, he got angry, he loved, and he could be hurt.

This is the quandary of a pastor too. The fight is difficult, but it is that question, "I am capable. I am available. How can I just ignore the need. If not me, who will go?" 
Pastors sometimes seem to be spiritual superheros, but they aren't. They are just men and women with an extraordinary love for the Lord and for His people.
Stand by him and pray for him. Love his wife and his children as if they are your own family. Give them grace, even if they don't deserve it. And remember, they are just people too, just like you and me. 

Don't forget all our heroes from military, to pastors, to our first responders and our police officers.They all need our prayers.

Think Positively Or Honestly?

I sat through an almost 9 hour conference in a freezing cold room yesterday, listening to a man talk about motivation, vision, and affirmations.
This kind of thing is hard for me as a Christian, especially when it is not particularly Christian focused. At some point I feel a bit like I am listening to the meaningless drivel that flows freely from the Houston pastors that make me cringe at every quippy and cleverly penned quote.

You see, I am a network marketer recommender of an amazing product that has changed our lives. I did not set out to make money recommending a certain product, but when it changed so much about our health and our lives, I couldn't help but tell our friends. Soon, they told their friends, who told their friends, and then this remarkable thing happened; the company compensated me for recommending their products to others. Wal-Mart doesn't do that.

 I did not set out to give anyone a plan for financial freedom, or piles of cash. I simply shared a good thing. As of now, I am not rolling in piles of cash, not even close. But I have a bit of extra money to buy some groceries.

For months I prayed for an opportunity to help our family out financially. Each month our financial situation grew tighter and tighter. Not because we aren't making money, or  because we are making less money, but because our kids are growing and eating more and more, and groceries are getting more and more expensive.

Despite my best efforts to be frugal and price match, coupon, and implement every possible avenue for cheaper prices, our kids' appetites were quickly outgrowing our budget. Something had to happen. So, I prayed and asked God to provide.

Within a month or two, I got a check in the mail for recommending a product I use. At that time, I listened to the message God was sending, and I made the decision to put forth effort to make money, instead of just sharing randomly.

Now others are doing the same and looking to me for guidance, so I am looking to others for guidance as well.
At the end of the conference I was more than happy with the tools I gained to lead my team even better and share what I was able to glean.

However,  my mind and spirit struggle with this new concept of speaking positive affirmations.

The lesson summed up was this; to be successful (his definition is to be successful is to have joy on the journey of whatever you are doing, not to make lots of money and gain lots of power and respect) you must be motivated, and to be motivated you must speak positive things to yourself. Sounds a bit Osteenish if you ask me or at least that's what I thought at first.

But, in reality, as I listened I prayed God would speak to me, and indeed He did.

The message of speaking positively and letting your mind dwell on positive thoughts instead of negative thoughts is not a heretical message. It is indeed Biblical. Philippians 4:8 says,

"Finally, brethren, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is of good repute, if there is any excellence and if anything worthy of praise, dwell on these things."

It is Biblical to control your thought processes and not allow them to be subject to every evil and whim that comes along."We are destroying speculations and every lofty thing raised up against the knowledge of God, and we are taking every thought captive to the obedience of Christ," 2 Corinthians 10:5

The problem with the message we so often hear about positive thinking is that it is separated from Christ. Jesus said in John 15:5

"I am the vine, you are the branches; he who abides in me and I in him, he bears much fruit. Apart from me you can do nothing." 

Did you get that? Without Christ you can do anything you set your mind to NOTHING!

We ended the conference by evaluating our values, our gifts, and then writing a vision in the form of positive affirmations. Such a good practice, if done correctly. But here's the problem. So many people wrote things like, "I am a good person." 

But you may ask, Isn't that just what Paul said to do in Philippians? What is wrong with that? 

Paul indeed said to DWELL on good things, not bad. But the very first quality he lists when it comes to your thought processes is TRUTH. Let me give you an example of a lie.

People don't like me. 

Do you know that for sure? Has anyone told you they don't like you? Have you asked? Such a good question to ask yourself when you are allowing negative thoughts to consume you. Can you be certain this is true? But an even more important question to always ask is,

 "Does the BIBLE say this is true?" 

 The Bible is your standard for truth. Period. Anything else is a waste of time. If your answer to either of these questions is, No, stop wasting your time on such a destructive thought!

So what's wrong with saying I am a good person? You must ask yourself the question, do I know this to be true? Does the Bible say this is true?
In fact, the Bible tells us this is a lie. Romans 3:12 says, 

"All have turned aside, together they have become useless; there is none who does good, there is not even one."

I could say every morning and every evening, I am a good person. I might even truly believe it. But at some point, it will fail me. No matter how much I say it to myself, I will never, ever, be a good person. I will still do bad things, say bad things, and think bad things. If I was a good person, I would have no need for Christ. I would BE Christ.

I can say to myself, "I deserve good things." I could say it all day long, but the truth is, I do not deserve even one good thing. The Bible says that no one is good. It also says in Romans 3:23;

 "All have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God."  

And Romans 6:23 says the price for being a sinner is death.

"For the wages of sin is death."

I deserve good things death. Not jail, not a spanking. No. Death.

 I have sinned, I have lied, and said bad things. Therefore, I deserve... death.  I can say all day long, "I deserve good things,"  convince my mind it is true, but my spirit still knows I have sinned, and what I deserve is death. My spirit is still not satisfied, nor will it ever be satisfied through speaking those things. Because speaking myself good just doesn't work. Only faith in Jesus Christ can truly, without a doubt, change me. 

Instead of daily positive affirmations and meditations about myself, daily positive meditation on TRUTH that is found in God's word will change the heart of a human being, thus changing their life.

I no longer say, "I am a sinner. I am a wretch. I am a horrible person. I deserve nothing good."

I can say, "I am redeemed by the blood of Jesus. I am a new creation. The old is gone and Christ remains."

2 Corinthians says, 
"Therefore if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creature; the old things passed away; behold, new things have come."

What are the new things? Those new things are your truths, given to us in the Bible.

 I no longer say to myself, "I am a horrible mother." Instead I say, "I am a good mother through the power of the Holy Spirit who has given me everything I need to be their mother, because God in all his sovereignty and wisdom, gave them to ME."

I no longer say, "No one will listen to me." I say, "Because God has not given me a spirit of fear, but rather, He has given me the Holy Spirit that brings with Him, power, love and a sound mind. Therefore, I can speak what He puts in my mouth." 

I no longer need to be afraid of what people think of me. I can say, "I am dearly loved and how great is the love the Father has lavished on me, that he would call me a child of God!" 

This also means I no longer need to dwell on all my faults, and fears, and failures, but rather I can dwell on the truth that is Christ is in me. I have access to the power of the Holy Spirit in me, and it is because of the work of Christ that there is anything good in me at all. Although I do not deserve anything good, Christ has redeemed me and I am an heir with Christ in the Kingdom of Heaven and as a child of God, He will bless me with whatever He determines to be good for me, in all his sovereignty and wisdom, even if it appears to me to be anything but good. 

For example, when I am digging in the foot of my child with a needle to remove a splinter, I am doing something good for him. However, he can not understand that what I am doing is good. He only feels the pain, so he may only think I am hurting him. God does the same with us.

The other night we watched the movie, Mom's Night Out. It speaks volumes to me because, really, that is my life on the big screen. I am inadequate as a wife, a mother, a housekeeper, a teacher, a friend, and most of all, a child of God. But in the end, the mom character has a transformation from totally down on herself to confident and successful. She doesn't transform because she started telling herself she was enough. She could never be enough. No one can be enough for this job.

Her transformation came when she realized, Christ in her is enough, and because of Christ in her, she is free to be who He made her to be, instead of perfect. 

She didn't change what she did or her circumstances. She simply changed her thought processes, she replaced the lies with the truth.

"Do not be conformed any longer to the ways of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, so that you may prove what the will of God is, that which is good and acceptable and perfect." Romans 12:2

You see, the people who begin to speak good things to themselves, may indeed experience a self-fulfilling prophecy and become skinny, rich, successful, and get everything they ever wanted.

But, that won't be the end of the story.

 I was relieved to hear our speaker end the conference yesterday with this little nugget of truth. You may get everything you ever wanted,  but your life, that is your heart and mind and spirit, will still be incomplete. No amount of things or money can make you happy. It can only give you a bit of shallow entertainment, ultimately leaving you empty. 

Romans 12:2 gives us what the positive affirmation message does not. Transform and renew your mind, to be like that of Christ in order that He may be glorified. 
"I am good because Christ has redeemed me." 

"If I have to boast I will boast of what pertains to my weakness." 2 Corinthians 11:30

"But may it never be that I would boast, except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, through which the world has been crucified to me, and I to the world." Galatians 6:14

"But as it is, you boast in your arrogance; all such boasting is evil." James 4:16

The most important part of Philippians 4:8 is that you DWELL on what is TRUE. Anything else is evil. Anything else is fruitless. Anything else, is pointless.

So what does  the positive thinking and affirmations in light of truth look like? It looks like taking our eyes off ourselves and putting them on the only ONE that matters, Jesus.

Matthew 6 tells us not to worry about tomorrow or what we eat and drink, what we wear or where we will live. It tells us we think too much about the body and waste too much time worrying about it. Instead, we have only one thing we need to do.

"Seek first the kingdom of God, and all these things will be added to you." Matthew 6:33

To be successful in marriage, parenting, business, friendships, or anything in this life, simply, 

"Commit to the LORD whatever you do, and your plans will succeed." Proverbs 16:3

Mama's Boy

It's been a whirlwind 48 hours. Just a little over 24 hours ago, my step father and I put some finishing touches on my grandmother's new "house", that is the garage that we renovated into a small apartment for her.
She and my mother pulled into the drive to settle her in permanently after my mother has been away taking care of her for the last 2 months in Texas.
It was an exciting day, to finally come to the end of this long process of renovating and have them officially home.
They were accompanied by my brother and my uncle in his pickup and trailer hauling a small portion of my grandmother's belongings. It was a fun evening and morning, with the family milling around and talking and catching up. Then it came time for my brother and uncle to go back home to Texas.
I watched as a son sat with his mother and told her goodbye with tears in his eyes. I realized it was the first time in his 60 years that his mother would be more than a couple miles down the road. And they talked, and they cried together.

I saw a little boy saying goodbye to his mother, and even at 60 years old,  with her, he was still her baby boy. I looked at my own baby boys, growing so big, so fast.

My heart ached for him. And for her. And I saw the evidence of the deep, deep bond between a mama and her boy. And I hugged my boys a little tighter and prayed that my uncle will come back to see us soon. 

The Best Chocolate Cake and It's Secret Ingredient

Last week, I went to my grandmother’s house to prepare to move her to Oklahoma to live with us. My heart ached to see the once strong and independent woman, in all her frailty and need for constant care.

I took a day and went through her house, to look for trinkets or memories I might want to keep. I found a memory in every closet and every drawer, on every shelf and every photo album. It was difficult to see how much life had passed both for me and for my grandparents.

Then I came to her cake cover. There it sat in her ugly, 70’s, china hutch plain and unattractive, but so very meaningful to me. I don’t eat cake… anymore. I don’t have any need to fill my already overcrowded home with useless things like a cake cover. But I couldn't help but sit and stare at it as the memories of the last 35 years came flooding back, especially the ones that included that cake cover and my chocolate cakes.

I never could contain my excitement on the 7 hour drive to Bovina, Texas tosee my grandparents. Mom and Daddypa were the most stable and loving things in mine and my brother’s life. And I cried every time I left.

At just two years old, my parents had divorced. My brother was 8 years old and our world was a mess. My mother had always stayed home with me, and now she was gone. My dad took my brother and me to Mom and Daddypa’s house and there we stayed for almost 2 months while my parents relocated and settled down to separate lives.

During that time I was loved and cared for and given security in a world where all my security had been lost. 

Once my mother and dad had a life in a whole new state, 700 miles from Mom and Daddypa, we went to join them. I was scared all the time. There was not one daycare or babysitter that I liked. My mother tried church daycares and one babysitter after another. But every time she left me, I could feel the pain well up inside me, as if I had swallowed a dagger that was trying to make its way out through my throat dragging my heart with it.

Those years were hard and painful for all of us.  My mother worked hard to provide a nice home for us, and I know she missed her days with my brother and me.

My parents did their best in a bad situation. However, I was a volatile and unstable little girl in desperate need of security.

Mom and Daddypa were just that for me. We spent every summer with them, and all our holidays too. I have more memories of Mom and Daddypa as a young child, than I do of my parents.

Mom told her friends that her and I got along so well because she did whatever I wanted. It was true. She was there with me every second of every day. She held me in her lap and read Pinocchio and Hansel and Gretel to me. She would carry me around and I would play with the little gold flower bud necklace around her neck that Daddypa had given her.

In the afternoons Daddypa would come home from the farm and take a nap. Sometimes he would play “Go Fish” with me or hold me in his lap while we watched old TV shows like “I Love Lucy” or his favorite westerns with John Wayne. In the fall, it was his favorite team, the Dallas Cowboys.

After he went back to the farm, Mom and I might mow the grass or go grocery shopping, where she would always buy me ice cream sandwiches.

After dinner, Daddypa would settle in for the evening and Mom and I would walk down to the school running track, sometimes with her friends and sometimes with just the two of us.

I loved to play in the “sandbox” while she walked around, 4 times. Sometimes I would walk with her and we would talk.  Sometimes other kids were there playing in the sandbox too and we built tunnels and castles in the sand.

On the evenings when it would rain, Daddypa and I would sit on the front porch and watch the  heavy, summer raindrops fall on the smooth concrete driveway. It washed away the smell of manure and cows and brought the smell of rain and dirt. The sun would shine down through the rain and make the entire earth look as if it was glowing orange. He’d sit beside me, his legs crossed and his arm around me, telling me how good the rain was for his crops, or how lightening formed. I still think of him when I smell rain and dirt mixed.

Some days, most days, Daddypa would take me out in his old, brown, Dodge pickup truck that smelled like West Texas dirt. He’d drive down the road not going more than 5mph with the windows down. That’s what I miss most about him, the way he loved to just take life slow and enjoy it. We’d stop at the local gas station and Gaylen, the owner, would tell me I was so spoiled I was rotten, like a rotten egg.  I didn’t know how right he was. Then Daddypa would buy me a coke and candy bar, usually a snickers and Dr. Pepper because that’s what my brother always got. 

But of all the memories of the place that was more of a home to me than anywhere else has ever been, my chocolate cakes are the greatest memory of all.

Every time I would get ready to go, I would talk to Mom on the phone and she’d tell me, “I've got your chocolate cake made.”

When I was younger it was all homemade and the most wonderful deliciousness to ever enter my mouth. The best part was her homemade frosting. She made the best chocolate fudge frosting. As I got older she started making her cakes from a boxed cake mix, but her frosting was still homemade, so it was okay and I couldn't tell the difference.

Every time I went to her house, she made me a chocolate cake. She didn't make it for my brother, she made it just for me. I don’t remember a time, even up into college, that she didn't make me a cake. I always had a cake, until she couldn't cook anymore.

I would walk into the house, and there sitting on the dining room table would be that chocolate cake waiting for me, under her cake cover.

Today, it’s not the cake that means so much to me. It’s the love that each cake represented. I was a mess. I was insecure and afraid, but one thing I could always depend on was that Mom would make me the most wonderful chocolate cake. Just like her and Daddypa’s love. It was always there. They always took care of me and loved me.  They always kept me safe. I never  felt afraid with them. I never felt insecure with them. They were my rock and my safe place.

Daddypa has been gone 15 years this December and today, I prepare a new home for Mom.  She will come live with my mother and me and we will care for her until we say goodbye to her as well. I don’t make or eat cake anymore, but I am keeping the cake cover to remind me how much love I have had in my life, much more than I deserve. I will let it serve as a reminder that all they really did to give me what I needed was love me more than anything else. When caring for her gets to be more difficult, I will have the cake cover to remind me why I care for her in her greatest time of need, because she cared so greatly for me in my greatest time of need.

A Poem: Time Chugs On

I know I said I would be writing more, and I have. I just forget to post it on here. I have more stories to share, soon.

In the meantime, here is my poem for the week. My class is working on poetry this week, and this morning we will have a Cafe Day and Poetry Reading. We are going to drink coffee, dress like poets and read our poems. I am very excited to hear what my students wrote. Here is my poem I wrote this morning at boot camp, where I ran for 30 minutes for the first time EVER! Yay!

Time Chugs On

It is said “time marches on,”

As if it is an army,

Consistently,

Rrhythmically,

Marching forward.

I say time is a train.

Some occasions it meanders through hills and valleys,

Taking its sweet time as we wait;

For baby’s arrival,

Illness to end,

The Sun to show its shining face

In a cloudy situation.

Some occasions, it crashes into the heart of my home,

Pulling loads of chaos,

Loss of memories and moments,

Hauling away pudgy fingers and legs,

And Hugs and kisses.

It brings with it a blaring whistle

That says, “Goodbye, precious moments, that are much too short.”

All the while, the train chugs along.

I am forever the tiny caboose,

Clinging to every last moment,

Watching as each one fades into the distance,

Wishing I could wrap up each giggly kiss,

Each chubby bear hug,

Every single, I love you Mommy,

And Put it in my pocket,

To hold in my hands just one more time.

To Carpe Diem or not to Carpe Diem? That is the Question.

Alot of people have been posting Glennon Melton's article "Don't Carpe Diem" and giving her a cyber high five for her well penned words on Chronos vs. Kairos times in parenting.

I've been praying and thinking about this blog post for days now, because it is not my intention to contradict a mother, or say something bad. But I know that what I am going to say, can be taken as just that. Please understand that my intentions are good, and while I agree with Melton's article, I only agree to a certain point. Overall, while her article left other moms shouting, "Amen! That's Me!" it left me sad, depressed, and hopeless, because while I can say, "Yes, that is me." I don't want that to be me. And it took a couple of days of digging into my soul to understand why.


Just like Melton said, not everything about parenting is wonderful. Not every moment feels like a moment to enjoy, or relish, or even remember.

However, in her article, Melton returns the suggestion, "Enjoy every moment. I know I did," with a question; "Are you sure you enjoyed every moment? Are you sure you don't mean you love having parented?"
Now this is where I think she goes terribly wrong. This is where my depression and sadness set in.

I am left feeling hopeless.

According to Melton, for the next 18 years, the most I can hope for is one or two moments, here and there, that are enjoyable. The rest is going to be misery, but at the end I will have loved that I was miserable with only a handful of good moments, for 28 years of my life?


She says, this is what works for her.

Now don't get me wrong, I can relate. Just read my last post here, if you have any doubts. I have horrible awful moments. Last night was one, when I came in to the kids' room to find that in cleaning all they did was stuff everything in their closet, in corners, under dressers and beds and out of the middle of the floor. I wanted to scream in my frustration!

I have hard moments when I am trying to get through the day of school work and all they do is play, thus prolonging my day!

I get irritated when the baby is screaming to be fed while I make lunch for the other kids and I am so hungry my hands are shaking and I feel like I'm going to pass out.

There are bad moments. For every mother. For every person.

It is true of every person, in every walk of life, not just parenting.

Working in a job, for other people, is hard. Bosses are not always kind, understanding or even reasonable.

Being a student can become frustrating as the assignments are piled on higher and higher.

Marriage is difficult when it turns out that a lifetime of love between two imperfect people is not as the romance movies and novels portray.

All walks of life have their difficulties and parenting is the mother of them all. But if we look to God's word we find that enjoying just select "good" moments in all walks of life, is not Biblical.

The problem with Melton's stand on  enjoying and being grateful in Chronos vs. Kairos time, is this is not how God commanded us to live life. He did not ask us to be thankful only when the moment is good. He did not ask us to praise Him only when we receive "good" blessings. He did not ask us to rejoice only when our life is a bed of roses and perfect and peachy. In fact, He asks us more often to praise Him, thank Him, rejoice and find joy in the most difficult times in our lives. Yes, even in Chronos time.

In Philippians 4:4, Paul tells the people in Philippi,

"Rejoice in the Lord, when every thing is good, ALWAYS; again I will say, rejoice!"

Paul didn't say, rejoice in Kairos time. He didn't say, rejoice for our children when you realize how beautiful they are. He didn't say, be thankful for your family at the end of the day when they are no longer bothering you and you can think clearly.

Paul said ALWAYS.

It's hard. It's a discipline. And if you are human, you won't ALWAYS be able to rejoice. You will have to discipline yourself to do so.

But here is a better way to understand parenting in the difficult chronos time, so that one day you won't look back and regret having wished it all away counting down the minutes until dad gets home or school starts so you can escape your misery. Instead you will find joy in what once made you miserable, and peace in what once brought about chaos.

Rejoicing doesn't mean you have to always be happy. Having joy doesn't mean you say, "Yay! I'm so happy that my daughter jumped off the roof and broke her legs. What a fantastic day!"

Rejoicing means you give credit where credit is due.

It means saying in those difficult moments, "God, right now I want to pinch her head off for writing on every wall and every piece of furniture with a permanent marker. (TRUE STORY!) So please, help me to calm down and not injure your precious child verbally, emotionally, mentally, or physically, and to find some way to rejoice as I scrub the walls with magic eraser and furniture with alcohol for the next 3 or 4 hours."

When that little old lady tells you, "Enjoy every moment," I understand what she means.

The newborn days are so hard and seem so endless. Yet, one day you wake up, and your 4lb preemie is looking at you eye to eye and you wonder where the last 10 years have gone. And your heart breaks so much that your body will physically ache.

At that moment you can decide that you are so glad those days are over and you never want to do them again, yet you are glad you did them.

Or, before that day comes, you can choose every day to rejoice, in every moment and every difficult situation. You can choose, even as you are screaming at the top of your lungs for just one person to pick up the Lego you have stepped on ten times and asked to be picked up at least a hundred times, to rejoice.

Then you can look back and not feel you have wasted even one minute, because even when it was excruciatingly painful, and horrible and awful, you chose to do what God asks of us; rejoice and again, rejoice!

I will leave you with the story I read a long time ago. I don't know where, or who, but I will never forget it. It causes me to count my blessings in every frustrating moment.

A man and woman tried for years to have a baby without any success. Their hearts ached and longed for a baby, yet God did not bless them with even one. The pain of their empty arms was so great, it was difficult to face a world that included children.

But after years of waiting, they were finally given the blessing they had longed for for so long.

Two children. Two very precious children joined the couple and made them a family.

The years went by, and the mother experienced all the pains of mothering. She knew and lived the frustration and endless days and difficulty of parenting.

One day, her child had found the grape jelly and proceeded to enjoy a little treat without mom's knowledge.
Once all the fun had been had, the little one went on about his business, playing throughout the house, leaving the sticky, grapey evidence all throughout every room.

The mother said that as she worked to clean the jelly, frustrated and exhausted and angry, she realized there was a day that she would have given anything to have her house covered in tiny, grape jelly, hand prints. And now, she was blessed by those little hand prints. She thanked God for them, and even decided to leave a few around the house to remind her of what she almost missed out on. She saw the joy in the problem because she knew the true blessing was the child, not the hand prints.

That is how you rejoice in the moments of chaos.

Even my parents, have permanent marker on their newly painted walls from a recent visit from the Mykytiuk mob. My mother said they considered framing the artwork on their wall because it was precious to them. That is how you rejoice in the difficult moments.

My college roommate is one of my favorite mothers, and I often long to be just like her as a mother. She says, I don't know what we will do today, but we're going to have fun doing it! And, even when nothing goes quite like it should, she rejoices and has fun.

God has a way of pouring out his peace when we do what He asks, rather than trying to find an easier shortcut way to live life, if we just let Him.

Philippians 4:4-9 is a perfect remedy for making the most of your chronos time. He says to pray and ask Him in times of trouble, rather than worrying and becoming anxious. He says to give Him thanks in times of anxiousness. Paul tells us, "The Lord is near."

When you are angry, frustrated, and at the end of your rope, Dear Mother, the Lord is near. Rejoice! You are not trying to create responsible adults from tyrannical toddlers all alone!

What will happen if you admit you cannot do it alone? If you admit that you want to enjoy every moment of life and not just a handful?  You might be able to stop screaming at kids all day long, because God will give you peace in EVERY. SINGLE. MOMENT.

 "And the peace of God, which surpasses all comprehension will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus...The things you have learned and received and heard and seen in me, practice these things, and the God of peace will be with you." Philippians 4:7 & 9

I Believe in the Prosperity Gospel

For I know the plans I have for you, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future.

-Jeremiah 29:11

There are alot of believers in the prosperity gospel, and alot of criticisms of the prosperity gospel. I used to fall into the latter category, but lately I have become an all-out believer in the message that God wants to prosper his children. I can't read my favorite verse above and not believe that.

However, I have come to have a different understanding of prosperity.

I have heard so many people say things like, "It's so nice to know that when I do everything right, that God will bless me in so many ways." 

This comment usually comes from someone with whom everything in life seems to be falling right into place, with no major problems or difficulties.

However, life is not easy all the time. The problem comes when people face difficult situations like sickness, job loss, personal criticism, death, or a multitude of other difficulties life tends to throw our way. It's usually during these times you will hear the same person say something like, "I don't understand what I've done to deserve this. What did I do to upset God so much that He would stop blessing me? I've been doing everything just right like the Bible teaches me."

The prosperity gospel, that everything will go just right if you do everything you are supposed to do, can be damaging to believers leading to disappointment in God, loss of faith and trust in Him, and worst of all, the loss of their entire faith in God and the Bible altogether.

I'm sure everyone has heard someone say, "I don't believe in God because why would He let my loved one suffer through such a painful sickness without healing them. We prayed, we had faith, we believed, but He still let them die a painful death. He must not be real."

The problem with the prosperity gospel is not the message, but the defintion of prosperity. As human beings we see and understand everything upside-down compared to how God created. God says to gain everything, you must lose everything. God says, the last will be first and the first will be last.

We don't understand, in our human finiteness, how God's message works.

It's like Lightning McQueen in the movie Cars. The older, wiser race car tells McQueen that when he is driving on dirt, he must turn left if he wants to go right. McQueen mocks and scoffs at the older race car calling him crazy. But in the end, he understands that indeed, turning left to go right, will work when he is driving on dirt, just as the older race car had taught  him.

God tells us quite often, that if we want to go right, we must turn left. We laugh in his face and make fun of the backwards, upside-down concept, and then drive off  leaving our dust in his face. And we keep doing what we've always done, turning right to go right, with the same result as before... failure, disappointment, and ultimately a messy wreck.

Let's look at the world's definition of prosperity.

Prosperity-n. The condition of prospering; condition or wealth. (source www.thefreedicitonary.com)

Some synonyms for the word prosperity include riches, wealth, ease, fortune, luxury, well-being, good-fortune, the good-life, plenty, and affluance.

This is what the preachers of the prosperity gospel tell us God wants for us. But I believe we need to look to the Bible for God's definition of prosperity.

The Hebrew word used in Jeremiah 29:11 for the word prosper is Shalom.

Shalom- completeness, soundness, welfare, peace, quiet, tranquility, contentment, friendship, welfare, health, of human relationships, and (my personal favorite definition) with God especially in covenant relationship. (source www.bible.org or Strong's #07965)

In people terms, Shalom means completeness, contentment, welfare, or peace in human relationships and with God, especially in covenant relationship.

This is the kind of prosperity God desires for His people, for all people. He desires to have a covenantal relationship with each human being, lasting for all eternity. This is true prosperity.

Stick with me for a few more posts and a deeper look into God's definition of prosperity and what the Bible teaches is prosperous in the Christian life.
*Hint, it doesn't include money, possessions or anything else we consider "blessings".

May God bless you today with prosperity, or peace and completeness in your relationship with Him, and with others!

The Awe Factor

I finished reading Job today. I have been trying to read the entire Bible in a year for a very long time, as long as I can remember.
And in my old age of thirty-something, I have come to the realization that not everything in life needs to work exactly like I plan. In fact, nothing will go as I plan, and just because I miss one day of my reading plan, or two, or 50, doesn't mean I can't still continue on through the Bible.

So, yes. I am behind on my reading plan, but I finished Job today nonetheless. Which was a huge success for me. I usually give up somewhere around Job (I like to go chronoligically rather than front to back, and Job comes after the first 11 chapters of Genesis, so you can see I don't make it very far).

I get to Job, and I get depressed. Who really wants to read a story about a man who loses all his family, all his belongings, and his health, all because Satan had something to prove to God... AND, here's the part I have trouble with... God LET Satan use Job to prove Himself instead!

But this time, I loved Job. I really did.

Even all the speeches from his friends, and his speeches, long and drawn out as they were, have so much in them.

But today as I finished, I felt the writer of Job should have done a better job at brining home the fantastic conclusion. Instead, there is just a paragraph, after all that talking, that is basically summed up in, "And he lived happily ever after."

Maybe it's the writer in me, but I want a big fanfare of resolution.

As I finished I sat in my little blue rocking chair that does not match my bedroom in anyway, and pondered God.

The last part of the book, God describes himself sarcastically to Job. Job defends himself up to this point, all along the way, saying, "I am innocent! Put me on trial and I will prove my innocence! I don't deserve this. What have I done to be treated so unfairly by You, God?" (not exactly his words, but rather the Amy Mykytiuk reader's digest version).

God stays silent throughout Job'scomplaining (which I totally understand and have no judgement toward Job for that), but finally in the end speaks out in sarcasm.
Summed up, God says, "Oh, that's right, I forgot. You were there when everything was created. You control everything. I completely forgot, you are omnipotent, omniscient, all-powerful, and equal to me."

Now that's not what He really says, but that's sort of his message. He's sarcastically reminding Job of who HE is.


This is my favorite question God poses to Job.

"Have you entered into the springs of the sea Or walked in the recesses of the deep?" Job 38:16

I think I love it because I truly imagine the deep of the sea to be an unreachable place. I never really imagined God strolling along the sea floor, where the undiscovered creatures roam. That's an unfathomable place.

I can imagine him in the universe, because that is sort of where we place him and heaven, out there in space somewhere. But the utter dark, cold, crushing depths of the sea?

Sunday, the pastor spoke about losing that awe factor for certain things in our life, after we have become too familiar with them. I have always felt that way about God.

I was born into a Christian family and attended church from the crib. I was always taught about who He is, and who Jesus is, and how Jesus died and rose again. The story of the Resurrection, though it is precious to me, never held that awe factor for me. It was too familiar. I do not feel that feeling of impossibility, like I would if a dead man sat up out of his coffin at his own funeral and began to speak. But I always wanted to be in awe of the miracle.

When God is finished telling Job exactly who He is, Job says,

"Behold, I am insignificant; what can I reply to You? I lay my hand on my mouth." Job 40:4

Job, gasped and covered his mouth. He had no response, no defense, nothing to say for himself. He didn't say, "Ya, ya. I know you did all that creation stuff and everything, but I don't deserve this!" (Imagine that in your most whiny voice ever).

He was awe struck. He was silenced by who God is.

I finished the story and wondered what it would take to silence me, to make me gasp at the wonder of who God is.

And then I realized. He's already done it. It's those times that He puts me on the edge of that cliff, my heels hanging off the edge and my body weight falling to my despair. Nothing can save me. I can't regain control of my life and save myself. I can only feel my body begin to fall as I wait for Him to rescue me.

It's when He puts me in those places that I have no where to go, no answer, and no salvation apart from Him, that I find the awe factor. It's when He stretches out His hand and rescues me in that completely hopeless and impossible situation, that I find myself gasp. When I know that the only way I could have made it through that "thing", is by His very hand, that I find awe.

I am alot like Job, declaring what it is I deserve. But I love Job's confession in the end, and it is my prayer when I become too big for my britches too.

"I know that You can do all things,

And that no purpose of Yours can be thwarted.

Who is this that hides counsel without knowledge?

Therefore I have declared that which I did not understand,

Things too wonderful for me, which I did not know.

Hear, now,  and I will speak; I will ask You, and you instruct me.

I have heard of  You by the hearing of the ear;

But now my eye sees You;

Therefore I retract,

And I repent in dust and ashes."

Job 42:2-6

What makes you stand in awe of who God is? Job 38-42 will definitely give you something to think about.

My St. Patrick's Day

I had a great day, but by 11AM I told my Beloved I was going to do a blog about the funny things I saw today. We had too many big laughs first thing this morning.

To start the day off, my Beloved officiated at a sweet little wedding in town. The bride and groom wanted to elope and have a small ceremony with just their parents. We were honored that she asked Jay to be the officiating minister.

The bride had been a youth in the church we served in a while back, and she and Jay had bonded over a game of hacky- sack. Now she is a young adult, spending her first evening as a Mrs.! Yay!

As we tried to get ready for our day, we had a multitude of slightly humorous, mostly time constraining, events happen with our kids. The toilet overflowed and little Noisemaker didn't seem in too much of a hurry to let us know water was dumping out onto the bathroom floor. The little girl had to go potty at the last minute, and she loves to sit and play, a long time. I forgot to bring my slip for my dress, leaving me to duck tape and safety pin some sort of acceptable undergarment under my dress, hoping for the best. It was a rough start to an important day.

On our way to the sweet little St. Paddy's Day wedding, we had some really good laughs together. Just outside of the city, we saw a raccoon on the road. I know, that's no big deal, but this one was hilarious!

If I had had a camera with me, I would have made my Beloved stop, late or not, and take a picture so I could share it with you, even on a busy highway!

At first we thought it was a cat, because you don't really see raccoons in the daytime around here.

It was completely frozen in the middle of the left lane of traffic. It's back was arched up way high, one paw was firmly planted on the asphalt while the other one was up in the air. It stood as still as a stone statue, staring at the ground. We never saw it move!

It was the funniest thing. I really think a couple of teenagers found a taxidermy raccoon in their great-grandpa's attic and decided to stick in the middle of the road to see what happened!

But, a few hours later on our way home, the raccoon was gone. Maybe he just got really scared and tried to look really mean and ferocious to all the giant metal cars speeding around him at 70 miles per hour. I don't know.

Just a few miles down the road, in downtown, we found ourselves cracking up again.

We passed a cute little donut shop. I notice these things. I'm pregnant and hungry almost constantly, and the more fatty, sugary, higher in calories, fried and unhealthy it is, the more I want it.

As we came closer to the donut shop I began to read the small print on their sign. They advertised donuts, biscuits, pastries, kolaches... AND TACOS!

Yes, that is just what I always wanted! A donut store where I could pick up a dozen long johns AND a yummy taco!

If you don't find this post funny, I'm sorry. It just brightened my sunny little day a little more!

We made our way downtown to the sweet little wedding. My Beloved officiated a beautiful little ceremony. He talked about God's plan was for love and marriage and their marriage, my marriage, and all marriage, is a good thing.

He talked about faith, hope and love. As married people we need to have faith in ourselves to be a good spouse, to have faith in each other, and to have faith in God. We need to have hope for when the going gets tough. We need hope to make it through the tough times in marriage, because there will be tough times.

And lastly, love, the greatest of these! Love for each other, but more importantly, love for God.

I watched the bride carefully, in her vintage lace dress with a sweet green ribbon sash. She was beautiful, and the tough little girl I knew, beamed with love for her red-headed groom. His smile could not have gotten any bigger as he stood next to his beautiful bride.

I fought back the tears, remembering all the faith, hope and love my Beloved have shared over the last almost 12 years. He has had faith in me when no one else did. When life seemed too difficult, we held on to hope in our Almighty Father... together. Most of all, even when we did not like each other, we held on to the love that was sparked so long ago.

I would love to share pictures with you, but the couple still has not told all of their extended family and friends that they got married today! Tonight, they enjoy their secret, as husband and wife.