Stumbling Around in The Light

Diving Deep

Linking up with Lisa-Jo and Five-Minute-Friday



I tear off the page of my calendar and take a deep breath.

Ready...
Set...
Go.

Diving Deep.
Into a new day, a new year, a new hope.

Glad to bid December farewell; kindred with Jamie, I ponder the pleasant escape and comfort of Prozac.  Would this pill perhaps go down easier than the bitter one of facing my demons?

Some tell me to shut up, sit down, stop rocking the boat.  Keep that mask firmly in place, and all will be well.  Speak the positive, lift yourself up by the bootstraps, heal thyself!  Onward & upward; you can do all things thru Christ who strengthens you!

Others reach out with tender hands, gentle words, and assure me: you are still loved, even in stormy-seasons of suffering, burning, refining.  Surely, as you fix your eyes on Jesus, you will emerge shining as gold; beauty from ashes.  Embrace the pain, trust the Healer.  Fortunate are the poor in spirit, for they shall be comforted!

I know not which is true, which is best, which path leads upward from these dark crashing waves of foreboding fear and doubt.  Perhaps it is both?

And yet for so many weeks I've been kicking, choking, fighting upward on my own ever-waning strength.

So this time, I dive.
Down, down, down...

Deep into this place of grieving; leaving behind the shining, glimmering, ephemeral fairytale.
Diving, swimming, fighting, kicking...and then...
Letting go.
Drifting.
Drowning.

Gentle me, Lord!

Trusting.

There will be Arms to buoy me.

The Love-Maker holds the future; one of faith-tales to replace fairy-tales. Plans for hope. 
Resting.
Quietness.

A season of hush.
Silencing the enemy-voices of fear and shame clamoring at the surface.
Silencing the words bubbling from this broken and longing heart.
Silencing the discontent, the guilt, the constant fear of failure.
Silence.
---------------------------------------------------------

“Woe to the rebellious children,” says the Lord,
“Who take counsel, but not of Me,
And who devise plans, but not of My Spirit...

“In returning and rest you shall be saved;
In quietness and confidence shall be your strength.”
But you would not,
And you said, “No, for we will flee on horses”—
Therefore you shall flee!
And, “We will ride on swift horses”—
Therefore those who pursue you shall be swift!

Therefore the Lord will wait, that He may be gracious to you;
And therefore He will be exalted, that He may have mercy on you.
For the Lord is a God of justice;
Blessed are all those who wait for Him.

For the people shall dwell in Zion at Jerusalem;
You shall weep no more.
He will be very gracious to you at the sound of your cry;
When He hears it, He will answer you.
And though the Lord gives you
The bread of adversity and the water of affliction,
Yet your teachers will not be moved into a corner anymore,
But your eyes shall see your teachers.
Your ears shall hear a word behind you, saying,
“This is the way, walk in it,”
Whenever you turn to the right hand
Or whenever you turn to the left.
You will also defile the covering of your images of silver,
And the ornament of your molded images of gold.
You will throw them away as an unclean thing;
You will say to them, “Get away!”

Then He will give the rain for your seed
With which you sow the ground,
And bread of the increase of the earth;
It will be fat and plentiful.
There will be on every high mountain
And on every high hill
Rivers and streams of waters...
Moreover the light of the moon will be as the light of the sun,
And the light of the sun will be sevenfold,
As the light of seven days,
In the day that the Lord binds up the bruise of His people
And heals the stroke of their wound.

Maybe I've Got Talent After All

I never seem to have enough time to get done the things I need to get done so I can just be done, and then move on to the endless list of things I wanna get done....

Okay, that sounds like crazy-talk. I know.
But c'mon. Don't you ever feel that way?

The urgent to-do list eclipses the really-important, heart-priority to-do list.

Time-management is a talent I definitely missed.
Of course the wisened counselors in my life (you know, the ones without 14 extra feet underfoot), would say that I'm just not really prioritizing my true priorities.

Yeah, whatever.
I've discovered I'm not so talented in the priority-setting area. But I'm loaded with skill in the way of puttin'-out-fires!  Some days I'm lucky to find the time for a shower, in between all the fire-puttin-out. Then there are days when I'm still in my stinky running shorts at dinnertime (who me?)...   But every now-and-again, I have a day when I'm talented enough to actually get up before the children for prayer-time, and am amazed to find myself clean & fresh & dressed for the day before breakfast. (I know - wow, right?) 

The really crazy thing is, I know of domestically-talented moms of big families who always get up at dawn to pray & then slip into their skirts & headcoverings & make big breakfasts, and still smile & kiss hubby, and find this truly incredible joy in it all.  Somehow I just didn't get that early-riser-hospitality-domestic-goddess talent.

And really? That's okay. 
I've gotta stop wishing for the talents I didn't get - and embracing the ones He gives me.

So - despite the fact that I recorded this little video blog something like three weeks ago - I'm posting my second attempt at saving-typing-time-by-story-telling-it-instead.

'Cause maybe I've got talent after all.

 

What bag-of-talents have you been given? 
What are some ways you're re-investing those talents?

Linking up with Jen at Soli Deo Gloria

And linking up with Michelle at Graceful

Unfinished Projects

I've got alotta unfinished projects in my life.

I've been meaning to finish the deck stain, every day this week.

I'm almost done, y'know. But...not quite.

And that order for Ian's glasses? Right online here on a tab...somewhere...but I haven't finished the measurements quite yet, so, well...I'll get it done in the morning.  Oh, and I'll need to finish switching all that business phone billing tomorrow too.  Dang, I can't forget to do that thank-you note for my neighbor...

Everywhere I look: unfinished projects.

We started the trim last year, but golly, it's really time-consuming for Kevin to mill the Aspen wood, and things have been so busy, and well, then there is the driveway work.  Gonna need several loads of rock & roadbase to get it completed, but that's some big bucks, so, we'll see...

Last summer I started running again. I was gonna work up to 5k distance, and run the local 'Mayor's Cup' race.  Been working on losing those 15 pounds of baby-weight for, hmmm, a year now, I guess.  I've worked off a few; maybe 10 more to go.  But, well - it's hard to make running & exercise a priority, when I'm juggling everything else, so....

And good grief, don't even get me started on the landscaping...or lack thereof...

Do ya' feel my pain?  Seriously?  Am I the only one who has something like 27 different projects up in the air at any given time?

There are days, when I just wanna give up and never get outta bed. Then there are days when I launch myself into fifty different things, like Superwoman-Elastagirl on steroids, and work myself into a frustrated frenzy.  Neither extreme is workin' for me, y'know.

So my artist friend Adina says to me -
"Well, Teri, isn't that what our life in Christ is all about?
Aren't we all just unfinished projects?"

Oh.
Yeah.

Maybe I don't need to be so depressed about that which is left undone...or frantically strive to arrive at some perfect completion.

Perhaps the place of contentment resides somewhere between frenetic action and frustrated apathy.

What if contentment is as simple as doing my best,
finding gratitude in the mid-project-progress,
trusting The Builder to bring the project to purposed-completion,
in His timing, according to His standards?

The more I think about it, the more I figure some of these unfinished projects might just be the best thing I've got going...

Got any unfinished projects? How do you find peace amidst the work-in-progress?

To Not Be Such A Fool

A fool tells what he will do, a boaster tells what he has done, a wise man does it and says nothing.   (from Ye Olde Flip Calendar, May 18th - no source)

I like to brag.

But, c'mon, who doesn't?

Isn't sneaky boasting alot of this whole blogging thing?  I write some pithy post about Easter, and just happen to throw in a few tidbits about our ever-so-holy Passover meal.  Or we share an encouraging home school story, and include pictures of beautifully organized books, studious children, extravagant science projects.

Yeah, whatever.  A fool and a boaster am I.

Truth is, during that ever-so-holy Passover meal, I totally lost my cool with our 2-year-old about every 10 seconds, and entertained thoughts of offering her as the sacrificial lamb.  And the little boys whined about the horseradish, the parsley, and the 'weird cracker' the entire time.

And home schooling?  It is so not a pretty picture.  Our books are never organized, the house is almost always a wreck, I'm perpetually weeks behind in grading & recording the older kids' work, and most days I wish we could hire a private tutor to come in and teach phonics, math, science, history...okay, well, everything.

There are so many things to be thankful for; my cup runneth over.

And over. and over. and over.

With all this fuel for gratitude, why do I spend most of my time utterly overwhelmed?

Is this it, Lord?  Is this what it means to be a mommy, and a wife, and a friend, and daughter, and sister, and...and...
'Cause it just all seems like too much; I can't ever catch up, Lord.  I just. can't. keep. up.

I look back on my blog posts & think, "dang, I'm such a whiner."

But then again, maybe I'm just sayin' what we're all feeling, but too afraid to admit, to say out loud, to bring into the light.

My life is unmanageable.
I need help.

I
Need
Help.

When I'm finally able to quit my boasting, and admit the reality of this mess of my life...
then...
then I can open my eyes & ears & soul to receive the help I so desperately need.

From soul-sister friends in my Tuesday morning girls-group, from cyber-sisters with sharing hearts, from fellow bloggers offering words of wisdom & truth & laughter & comfort & encouragement, from the well-loved words of books like Jesus Calling and One Thousand Gifts. 

And in the quiet, still moments, God speaks; convicting, comforting, inviting, instructing.  James whispers in the back of my mind, "faith without works is dead," and so I wipe my eyes, and blow my schnoz, and go do what I need to do, and be who I need to be, and put my faith into action.

So if you hear me boasting here?  Just point me back to this post, 'kay? 
'Cause no kidding, my life is a shambles.  I need some pie.

Oh.  And I seriously need help. and wisdom. and instruction.

"The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge; but fools despise wisdom and instruction."  - Proverbs 1:7

Lord, let me not be such a fool!

Boast much?  Oh, c'mon, admit it...we all do...

 

New Easter Life

We stand under sunrise sky, fresh-powder snow under foot. 
The morning is still, windless, a holy-hush of Easter reverence.

Kevin carries the risen-bread, I carry the bitter cup, and our heads bend in prayer & newly-awakened thanksgiving, over this our holy, new-Easter-year communion.  Jammy-pants stuffed into snowboots, bathrobes as coats, we smile & gaze & rub sleep from our eyes, breathing clouds of early-morning-giggles into the cold air.  The bread is fluffy and warm, a comforting breaking-of-fast from the unleavened Passover week.  The wine is bitter, rancid, sour...and we sip it slow, intent.  No sweet grape juice this Resurrection Sunday; this day we will sip the bitter cup, a symbol of our submission to His Will, a symbol of our willingness to accept His Path, instead of the petulant pursuit of My Way.

Just seven days earlier, we gathered around the Aspen table, spread with a motley feast of eggs, greens, matzo, haroseth.

As we dipped bitter greens into salty tears, we talked of how bitter life is without Him, how filled with tears...

"But, if we have Jesus, Mommy, then why do we have to eat the horseradish? It burns and makes me choke and cry! I don't like it!"

And then the admission:
Sometimes, there is bitterness-that-burns, in the obedience; sometimes there are choking tears in the following.  But in Him, we can trust there is a sweet cup of rich, red grapes to soothe the sting; the juice of His sacrifice, crushed, pressed down, filtered down into these cups of sanctification, remembrance, salvation...celebration...

On the afternoon of our Easter Resurrection Celebration, another table is spread with swaths of yellow and green; colorful flowers and eggs beckon us to feast, to join Him in celebration of this unending, abundant gift of Grace.  Friends and family gather, laughing, loving, rejoicing, relishing.  Little ones search and find and pluck treats from new-life-eggs, and we taste His sweetness, and we speak anew our commitment to follow Him, even into the bitterness, and we thank Him for all these gifts of remembrance, of rejoicing. 

We'll do it wrong, over and again, but for now we voice the longing of our souls: 
to pursue God's Will, to relinquish our own.
Despite our self-absorption, we are filled with an aching desire to surrender the hard-hearted, unforgiving, stiff-neck for a willingness to bend and submit to the windstorm of the Windmaker.

I hear His voice calling me in the wind, whispering softly under the cacophony of this cyclone-home full of children and chores and joy and demands and dreams: 
"I AM here..."
If I listen, He is here, in the middle of it all, calling me to sip this sometimes bitter-cup, sometimes sweet-cup, of motherhood.  Guilt whispers - the submitting should all be laughter and beauty and happiness.  Yet the truth is submitting is hard work, sacrifice, perpetual nitty-gritty forgiveness; its the caring when it feels I'm all poured out, spent, emptied.

And isn't that what Easter is all about?
God's poured-out gift of Christ's submission,
washing over my shame with perpetual forgiveness.

So this is the start of my New Year: and this resolution to offer myself up for surrender to His Way.  That my faith may have new Easter life, that the sip of bitter-cup will make way for the sweet taste of sanctification.

What does it profit, my brethren, if someone says he has faith but does not have works? Can faith save him? If a brother or sister is naked and destitute of daily food, and one of you says to them, “Depart in peace, be warmed and filled,” but you do not give them the things which are needed for the body, what does it profit? Thus also faith by itself, if it does not have works, is dead.
 But someone will say, “You have faith, and I have works.” Show me your faith without your works,and I will show you my faith by my works. You believe that there is one God. You do well. Even the demons believe—and tremble! But do you want to know, O foolish man, that faith without works is dead?  Was not Abraham our father justified by works when he offered Isaac his son on the altar? Do you see that faith was working together with his works, and by works faith was made perfect?

Is God calling you to bring your faith to new life?
Any Easter resolutions?

Nitty-Gritty Forgiveness

There's alotta sand at my back door. 

Sprinkled around the snow boots and the flip-flops, ground into the rug, piled in the doorjam - sand.

And I really, really don't like it. Even tho I love seeing the kids out in the sandbox on these sunny Spring days.  Even tho I love the sandbox itself, a huge 9ft by 9ft square, bordered by unfinished, rough-cut Aspen logs from our property.

It's just the sand at the back door that drives me crazy.  Okay, and the sand that gets tracked into the bathroom.  And the sand that ends up trapped in pockets and cuffs and hoods, to spill out like so much irritation on the laundry room floor. 

When we talk about forgiveness, we're always talking about the big stuff.   Forgiving the abusive parent, the unfaithful spouse, the back-stabbing friend.  Or the bully that kicked you on the playground, the sister who stole your boyfriend, the contractor who screwed up your remodeling project. 

And then of course in family, it's always this 3-step process of apology, forgiveness, and reconciliation.  I find myself coaching the little boys thru forgiveness-scripts: 

Mommy:  "Did you hit your little brother?!  You need to go say you're sorry!"
Stinker #1:  "...sorrrrreeeee..."
Mommy:  "Good. So buddy, now you need to say 'I forgive you.'"
Stinker #2:"...I fragive you..."
Mommy:  "Now, give each other a hug..."

That's all good & fine.  But the thing I'm struggling with is forgiving in the nitty-gritty.  Forgiving the stuff where there's really no major thing to forgive.  Like that stinkin' pot-hole in the road that nearly rattled the teeth outta my head last week.  And the brand new jar of stuffed olives gone bad.  And yeah, the sand.

It's not like the kids are out to get me, with the whole sand thing.  I mean, sand happens.  Toddler sits in sandbox, sand gets into capri cuffs, sand goes all over bathroom floor.  I certainly don't blame the maddening grit of sand tracked halfway down the hallway on her. 

And yet I get so mad.

Who am I mad at? 

Who do I need to forgive?

Maybe when Jesus was talking about forgiving seventy times seven, and turning the other cheek, and walking the extra mile...maybe He was talking also about endurance.  About enduring the temptation to grumble and frown and slam the door open and bang the little pink sneakers extra hard on the deck to get all that sand out.  (not that I'd ever do that.  I mean, what kinda mom do you think I am?)

Maybe little irritations like sand are actually some of those trials I'm supposed to consider a gift.  Maybe sand is the opportunity for me to learn patience, and let patience have it perfecting (ouch) work.

And then I think...what about those little things that get me all mad at the big kids?  Breakfast dishes still piled up at dinnertime...overflowing trash cans...paints and beads and fabric scraps scattered across the table.  What about those little things that grind like sand in my shoes, about my husband? 

How quickly...how easily, I get so mad.

And I spew it too: 
"Would you PULeeeze take out the trash already?"
"If this isn't cleaned up in 10 minutes I'm throwing it all out!"
"I have told you a thousand times to have your breakfast chores done by 10am!"
"WHO took my cell phone and didn't put it back?"

But lately, James has been speaking back to me:

"Let patience have its perfecting work.... 
Blessed is the one who endures temptation... 
Do not be deceived, every perfecting gift is from above... 
Let everyone be swift to hear, slow to speak, slow to anger, for the anger of man does not produce the righteousness of God... 
You must be a doer of the Word, and not a forgetful hearer... 
Whoever claims to be religious, and does not bridle her tongue, deceiving herself, this one's religion is useless..."

There are so many things in the nitty-gritty of day-to-day busyness with a family of nine that require patience, and endurance, and listening, and doing, and shutting up...and forgiving.  Forgiving right away, right in the midst of the grit of sand on the rug. 

Isn't that what Jesus taught us?  Isn't that what His crucifixion & resurrection is all about? 

"Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do!"

O God, forgive me.   Teach me Your ways of forgiveness, especially in the nitty-gritty of life.

How do you deal with forgiveness in the nitty-gritty?

Stop Believing Everything You Think

It started with the signature-tagline from my friend Denver's email.

It was a note of encouragement for Caleb, and for the stumbling words of this blog.  Kindness and compassion from his heart.

But that little phrase, in bold gray letters beneath his name...

"Don't believe everything you think."

I just sat there.
With it ringing in my ears.
Like Balaam's donkey, shouting out at me:

"Teri!  Do you have ears to hear?  Stop believing everything you think!"

'Cause this is what I think:

I'm so overwhelmed!  I can't do this! 

But this is truth:

In myself, this is impossible, but with God all things are possible.
The anointing I have received from Him abides in me...and I will abide in Him.
And God is able to make all grace abound toward me, that I will have sufficiency in all things, that I may have an abundance for every good work.

Rattling around in my head is this thought:

I can't ever get my life together!  Everyone else can handle it all...why am I such a screw up?

Yet this is truth:

We all stumble in many things...
Yet in Him I have an inheritance, a perfectly designed plan, according to His purposes.

And in the darkest moments, I'm thinking:

I'm such a failure to my kids, to my husband...

Truth tells me otherwise:

If my heart condemns me, God is greater than my heart, and knows all things.
And above all else, put on love, which is the bond of perfection.

So, let's see...what am I gonna believe...
the green-smoke-lies, sin-monkey thoughts in my head?
or God's Word of Truth?

I'll take door number two, thank you very much!

What thoughts do you need to stop believing?

Linking up with Ann Voskamp today, over at A Holy Experience.  Don't miss her beautiful Easter Devotional; a free download, because Easter's more important than Christmas...

 

Life-Light Words

He pads in early, jammie-clad and tousled golden hair.  It's too early, and he knows it's too early, and he knows that I know it's too early.

There's not a red-glowing "7" on his clock, but something worth-the-reprimand has propelled him across the wood-floor hallway, and he's prepared for the inevitable consequence.  Yet before he can even call out "Mommy?" into the green-curtained early-morning glow...

In the neutral moment, I fill the space with words of life and light.

In the neutral moment, before whining, before frustration, before reprimand, before anything else, I speak words of over-arching truth:

"Good morning, sweet boy!  I love you!"

Everything else that follows is kinder, truer...softened and brightened by the reality that he is loved, and I know I cherish him, and he knows I cherish him.

God tells me that my words have the power to bring life or death, darkness or light.  As a parent, our words are so often full of teaching, training, explaining, correcting.  How often do we go thru an entire day without words of delight in our children?  I have to choose to speak words that bring life and light into darkness.  In the neutral moments, in the quiet millisecond before there is a chance for crankiness...that's when I bring forth life: 

"I'm happy to see you!"
"Look at you...("in your pjs" or "drawing a picture" or "home from school" or whatever)
"How'd I get so lucky to have you?"
"What a great-lookin' face that is..."
"I love you!"

Even more so as my children get older, when I can't cradle them, or cuddle them, or tickle & kiss & coddle.  Because he's 15 now, the first one to stretch my belly and spirit, and good grief, he's a head taller than I am!  Now more than ever, I have to fill the space around him with words of bright life-giving affirmation, love, delight.

No matter how I feel at the moment:  the words of life are not based on feeling, but on truth. 

And this is always and forever incircumstantially true:  I love my children.

Then I can, should, must, out of discipline and practice and habit, speak the life-light words of love to them.  They need to hear it, for my love sustains them, my love builds them, my love prepares them for the trials and tribulations that will come in a busy day, whether toddler or teen.

 

Do you hear it?
Do you hear the echo of God's longing to speak love to us?

His Word speaks bright, life-giving affirmation, love, delight.

And yes, intermingled in there are Words of every loving parent: instruction, reproof, correction, discipline...and always, always, the ever-present, over-arching Words of Love. 
Just as my children desperately need my life-giving words...I desperately need my Father's Life-Giving Words.

I'm an avid Ann Voskamp "Holy Experience" follower.  If you're reading this, then you probably are too...I mean, who isn't???  (Don't miss her beautful, heart-transforming new book, One Thousand Gifts -- now's the time, so you can join the in(courage) Bloom Book Club.)   Anyway - several weeks ago, she wrote a post on habit.  It's one I couldn't shake.  The phrase "a habit is something you put on every day" stuck with me, meandered thru my mind for days.  I tried to ignore her challenge.  Memorize the entire book of Colossians?  No, I'm too busy; I couldn't do it; maybe someday...

I finally hushed the excuse-maker-monkey on my back; threw off the little procrastination-ape, and pressed into the Lord for learning His life-giving Word.  His call to me was a little different, so I'm learning the book of James, about 3 verses per week, building one upon another, that I might have a measure of His beautiful truth to light up my mind and my heart by the end of 2011. 

It's daunting, I know.  I resisted posting it.  Cause now that I've said it...now it's real, and out there, and now I'm accountable.

His Word speaks bright, life-giving affirmation, love, delight.

Whether I feel like memorizing it or not:  the Words of Life are not based on feeling, but on truth. 

And this is always and forever incircumstantially true:  God loves His children.

Then I can, should, must, out of discipline and practice and habit, hear His life-light words of love to me.  I need to hear it, for His love sustains me, His love builds me, His love prepares me for the trials and tribulations that will come in a busy day, caring for babies, toddlers, teens.

Here it is then, so far, from the book of James:

     My friends, count it all joy when you fall into various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces patience.  And let patience have its perfect work, so that you may be made perfect and complete, lacking nothing.  But if any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask of God, who gives liberally, and without reproach, and it will be given to him.  And let him ask in faith, with no doubting, for one who doubts is like a wave of the sea, driven and tossed by the wind.  Let not that person suppose he will receive anything from the Lord;  he is double-minded, unstable in all his ways.
     Let the lowly person glory in his exaltation, and the rich in his humiliation, because as a flower of the field, we will all pass away.  For no sooner has the sun risen with a burning head than it withers the grass; its flower falls and its beautiful appearance perishes.  So the rich will also fade away in his pursuits.

That's all I've got so far.  If you feel so led...would you join me?  Or join Ann?  Or step forth on your own journey of bringing God's Life-Light Word into your life.  My friend Amanda is memorizing Jesus's 'Sermon on the Mount' - Matthew 5 and 6.  Whatever you choose, the challenge is to bring it alive in your mind and heart, to become accountable to someone for diligence, to seek His Spirit above duty.

As His Word grows in your mind and heart, you will begin to hear His love, His affirmation, His life-lighting-up Truth...in the neutral moments, forbearing the hard moments, fulfilling the joyous moments.

Can you commit?
Are you willing to put on this new habit every day?
What fears block your desire to make it so?

Let His Words bring light to your life.

---------------------------------------------

This week I'm moving on to the next phrase, James 1:12-15 -     

     Blessed is the one who endures temptation, for when he is approved, he will receive the crown of life, which the Lord has promised to those who love Him.  Let no one say when he is tempted, "I am tempted by God," for God cannot be tempted by evil, nor does he Himself tempt anyone.  But each one is tempted when he is drawn away by his own desires and enticed.  Then, when desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin; and sin, when it is full-grown, brings forth death.

Join me in the journey?

Blogging On The Fly

I'm inspired by Lisa-Jo's post, "What Can You Write in Five Minutes Flat?" from a couple of days ago.

Pasta is boiling on the stove right now, so let's see how I do...

I'm definitely not a throw-it-out-there in five minutes kinda girl.  No, I tend to write over several hours & days...composing paragraphs while in the shower, reformating lines in my mind as I chauffer the kids to choir & guitar, mentally running thru creative synonyms for the word 'great' as I chop carrots.  Writing happens while I'm out in the woods, looking up to the clear-blue Colorado sky, snow crunching underfoot, breathing clouds into the rarifed mountain air, arms raised to God, asking Him to speak Light, to pour Wisdom over my world-saturated-Spirit-starved heart.

And there - that's five minutes...

 
--------------------------------------

I didn't get very far.  I'm too wordy, I guess.  I talk too much in person, too.  When telling Kevin about my day, I can wax eloquent about one moment in time for half an hour.  Over the years he has graciously learned to not roll his eyes, look at his watch, or interrupt in exasperation, "so, what happened?"  'Course I've also learned to recognize the eyes-glazed-over signs of checking out, and know how to cut to the chase: "no one got hurt; the side of the van is dented; we need to clean the vomit out of the car seat."

To tell the truth, I don't get very far into typing before I'm re-reading, deleting, modifying, starting over.  My husband is the total opposite:  he'll spend 20 minutes at the computer and spit out a blog post, a promotion, and 14 email replies.  Then again, his output is often sprinkled with typos & grammatical errors, despite the wise, funny, compelling content.  He doesn't mind tho.  Just laughs it off, and only sometimes goes back to make corrections.  And it's not like I'm a perfectionist; far from it!  Step into my lumpy-bumpy, creatively-ecclectic straw-bale home and you'll know. 

But with communication, with words, I like to be careful.  According to the Five Love Languages, words are top priority for me, giving and receiving.  I spent years without realizing this, spewing impatient words, angry words, critical words...and God is helping me ever-so-gradually, to understand the power of my words.  Simply speaking is easier tho, cause even my poorly-phrased annunciations pass quickly into thin air, and are forgotten.  Hurtful words have the power of death, yes...but it is ever so much easier to forgive spoken words that diminish with the passage of time...than written words that are forever embedded in black and white.

So I think, for most of us, to craft thoughts & feelings & growth-groanings into something moderately expressive, takes time.

And yet - as I write, and think, and pray & ponder -
On a bigger scale -
It occurs to me that perhaps everything in my life doesn't have to be such a big production.

Lunch for my family doesn't have to be the gourmet spread I pressure myself to provide.
Every infraction by the kids doesn't have to be a major deal.
Coughing baby in the night can be a hiccup instead of a catastrophe of sleep-deprivation.
I don't have to shower & get all dressed up just to go pick up the kids; that's what a ball-cap is for!
Every little disagrement with Kevin doesn't need to be a mountain.
I don't have to have an hour to go hike in the woods and seek the Lord; ten minutes can be glorious.
A few words, a five-minute blog-on-the-fly, is just fine.

Don't ruin good with perfect.  We say that alot around here.  'Cause more often than not, when I fret over perfect, I don't get even get around to good.  Now I gotta learn how to apply it to my litle blog efforts.  I don't have to ruin a perfectly good bit of blogging-on-the-fly by a bazillion rewrites to get it all polished & perfect.  (Even as I enviously grumble to myself that some people seem to type all polished & perfect right outta the chute....)  No matter; my own egotistical comparisons are not my measuring stick.

May the words of my mouth and hte meditation of my heart be pleasing in your sight, O Lord, my Rock and my Redeemer.  - Psalm 19:14

Oh, Abba!  That I would strive only to shine the little light you've placed me; to please You alone with my wandering words!

So five minutes here...five minutes there...I've done it, in my own stumbling way, Lisa-Jo. 

And I think I'm starting to understand. 

There are more important things to do than fret about perfection.

As I sit here and reread and resist the temptation to rewrite...I feel Him smiling, can almost hear His amused laughter, "you're learning, my girl; you're getting there!"

 I'm out...

Yet I Will Rejoice

We are so wealthy.

All of us, here in our posh American culture.  I read it again & again, how we have so much, and yet we are ungrateful.  Even as we convince ourselves of gratitude, there resides within us an unrest, a discontent, sorrow, longing.

Maybe not for more stuff.  Certainly not for basic provisions: food, clothing, shelter.  Probably not even for something we can name.  But there is a longing for fulfillment, for the gratitude we read about in Psalms; the kind that only stems from coming out of a long-dark cave, from healing after ages-old hurts, from a drink of water in such a parched, dry desert.

How is it, that we who have so much, still ache & long & thirst? 

Perhaps God understands.  Perhaps He knows - it's all relative.  That even in our opulance, there are gaping-cavern spaces in our souls that long to be filled.

"Though the fig tree may not blossom,
Nor fruit be on the vines;
Though the labor of the olive may fail,
And the fields yield no food;
Though the flock may be cut off from the fold,
And there be no herd in the stalls ---
Yet I will rejoice in the Lord,
I will joy in the God of my salvation." 
Habakkuk 3:17-18

His Word speaks to our lives, across time, across cultural differences.  He knows the 21st century sorrows we struggle with:  broken relationships, debt, fear, addictions, worry, isolation, pain...

Yet I will rejoice in the Lord.

Yet.  I.  Will.

Did you hear it? 
Thankfulness is a choice.
No matter how I feel.  No matter the circumstance.

I gotta speak it, write it, proclaim it.
And did you hear that?
Pro Claim:  pro - for, favoring, in support of;  claim - state to be true or existing
When I proclaim my thankfulness, I'm supporting and stating to myself what is TRUE. 

The more I proclaim gratitude to myself, the more I hear the truth of my gratitude, the more my brain accepts the truth of my gratitude, the more my heart believes the truth of my gratitude.  Huh???  Just this: I need to proclaim my thankfulness.  The WILL to rejoice helps true joy take hold in my life.

I think, this side of heaven, I will always ache, & long, & thirst. 

Yet
I
will
rejoice in the Lord!

This picture shows the 'Thankful Cards' our family writes every year.  I simply print out little cards with date & 'I'm thankful for...' (4 on a page), cut 'em out, distribute pens, and everyone from youngest to oldest spends time filling out several cards, proclaiming their specific thankfulness.  Little ones draw or color, and then we jot in 'translations'...which has really been a hoot to look back on!  Then during the Thanksgiving holiday weekend, we pass the basket of cards around, & take turns pulling out random cards & reading past year's rejoicing.

Happy Thanksgiving, friends.  This holiday weekend, may we all will to rejoice.

Word Play

I changed the world with my words last night.

At least for one little girl and one mommy.

I have a friend who says his view of hell is having to constantly brush millions of screaming toddler's teeth.  He loathes the evening teethbrushing fight.  I gotta admit, I'm almost there.

Why is it that a perfectly darling toddler turns into a squirming, thrashing, wailing maniac when approached with a small, soft brush smeared with a speck of minty paste?  And haven't you heard that the jaw is the strongest muscle in the body?  I believe it, cause despite all logic, when it comes to prying open a mouth with a toothbrush, every 2 year old on the planet has a stronger clamped-tight-bite than the hand of any superhero.  Toothbrushing is like the ultimate torture somehow.  That and nose-wiping.  I don't get it.  But it drives me crazy.

So Serene has been doing the toothbrushing-avoidance-maniac-dance for awhile now.  Some nights are worse than others.  And truly, she's way better than a few weeks ago.  But last night I just wasn't up for the fight. 

Instead of the usual, "Serene Eliana, obey Mommy and open your mouth right now!" - I experimented with the power of my words.

Before she could even think of squirming away, and before she had the chance to open or not open her mouth, I said, "Whoa, look at you, Serene!  You're the best tooth brushing girl ever!"

She looked at me in confusion for about 1/2 a millisecond...then beamed, and opened wide!

I continued to speak the words that I wanted to be true of her...how cooperative she was, what a great spitter-in-the-sink she was, how super she was at getting those top, front, hidden-tight-behind-grimace-lips teeth she was...

And she became what I spoke of her.

God's Word spoke the world into existance.  And He tells me in scripture that the words of my tongue have the power of life or death.  My words have the power to change her little world, standing on a stepstool in the upstairs bathroom.  My words have the power to change my heart toward my precious little girl. 

What can your words have the power to change today?

To Train Up A ...Mouth?

I can change the world with my mouth.

You can too.

If you search God's Word for scriptures relating to the power of our tongue, our lips, our mouth, our words...you'll find well over 400, from Old Testament thru Revelation.  Obviously there are many, many more about the power of God's Word, the source of life & truth.  And yet, God repeats & repeats His message that there is great power in the words of our very own mouths.

Job 15:6 -- Your own mouth condemns you, not mine; your own lips testify against you.

Psalm 59:7 -- See what they spew from their mouths— the words from their lips are sharp as swords, and they think, “Who can hear us?”

Proverbs 12:18 -- The words of the reckless pierce like swords, but the tongue of the wise brings healing.

Ecclesiastes 5:6 -- Do not let your mouth lead you into sin.

Jeremiah 9:8 -- The tongue is a deadly arrow; it speaks deceitfully.

Matthew 15:11 -- What goes into someone’s mouth does not defile them, but what comes out of their mouth, that is what defiles them.

James 3:5-6 -- Likewise, the tongue is a small part of the body, but it makes great boasts. Consider what a great forest is set on fire by a small spark.  The tongue also is a fire, a world of evil among the parts of the body. It corrupts the whole body, sets the whole course of one’s life on fire, and is itself set on fire by hell.

Proverbs 18:21 -- The tongue has the power of life and death...

The scriptures convict me.  But truthfully, I wasn't convinced until I tried it myself.  I didn't GET IT until I felt & experienced the real-life fruit blooming in my family when my mouth speaks life...and the real-life stench that exudes from every corner of my home when my mouth speaks death.

It starts to snow just before I need to leave the house.  Frustration mounts, and my flesh feels like saying this:
"Dangit!  The roads are gonna be slick, we'll never make it on time now!"
But everything changes if I can train my mouth to speak this:
"Whoa, you guys, it's snowing!  So beautiful!  C'mon, let's load up now so we won't be too late!"
BOTH perspectives are TRUTH.  Which truth do I want my life to be shaped by?  Which truth do I want my family & children & home shaped by?

If I can train my mouth in what truth to speak, no matter how I feel, MY HEART WILL CHANGE.  It may take time.  I might have to keep speaking that positive view of things over & over & over...letting my ears hear, letting my brain comprehend, till my heart believes.

Luke 6:45 -- A good man brings good things out of the good stored up in his heart, and an evil man brings evil things out of the evil stored up in his heart. For the mouth speaks what the heart is full of.

I speak truth,
my ears hear it,
my brain processes it,
my heart believes it,
my family is transformed.

And that's how my mouth can change the world.