Finish it.

I was in a home today, a home I had never visited before, so I was looking around curiously just to see what there was to the house to see. One thing that should have stood out, though I walked right past it until someone pointed it out to me, was the staircase had  been partially rebuilt. Previously, coming down the stairs you would come down to a certain point, then take a sharp left turn ending  you in a small space facing a bathroom and the master bedroom. The owners decided this was...unfortunate... and the husband tore out the bottom curve of the staircase and created a new ending to have it come down into the living area.

I was fascinated by it (mostly because I assume it takes courage to tear out a part of your staircase since failure means that no one can reach their bedrooms anymore) but it was also quite obviously not finished yet. I complimented the carpenter wanna-be on his craftsmanship and said how nice I thought it looked and what a good job he'd done and he said something that stuck with me:

 "Now I just need to become a good finisher."

I thought about that all evening long. Because it means so much more than just finishing a staircase.

It's so easy to start and not finish something. You start cleaning the garage, and you don't finish. You start a diet, and you don't finish. You start a book, and you don't finish it.

But there are so many important things that we start. Things that the world, foolishly allows anyone of a certain age to begin regardless of their maturity/capabilities, such as marriage, families, dreams.

The first one my mind went to was a burden that I feel that someone should finish their marriage. Counselors, friends, loved ones, all want to tell people easy ways out of things. If you're not happy, obviously God wants you to be happy so leave whatever is making you unhappy. We ignore urgings from those who comforted us with words that say "For I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content." Divorce is unbiblical, yet we refuse to submit to God in anything that goes against our immediate relief struggle. It is such an ugly scar upon America that never should have been permitted in our churches.

The second one that almost immediately came to my mind is that we should finish our children. I am a foster parent, and I had a child in my home that I felt I could not finish. I told the agency he was beyond me, and I listed at least 5 logical reasons why I couldn't continue with him. Rational, logical reasons that no one could/would contend with. And it haunts me. How I wish there had been someone in my life to hold me up, to encourage me in my faith and say NO. You can finish, and you will finish, or you will die trying. I am ashamed that I did not hold myself up to that standard. I'm sick, that exactly what I told his CASA worker would happen in his life, happened exactly as I said it would. Because he was failed. By so many people along the way that did not finish what they began.

I've seen miracles in this fostering business. I've prayed for mothers even as I said "It's impossible" only to have God work miraculously and change lives. I've got one incredible success story out of 8 kiddos that have come through this home. And God may be working a 2nd amazing miracle for the child in my home right now. God still does miracles.

I don't say to die trying because God wants you to be miserable - but I think of all the war heroes that had a mountain they were supposed to conquer and they would conquer it. The battles of our culture today are not flesh and blood, not real life mountains with enemies shooting down on us, but spiritual ones that require us to go through...press on..spend hours in our own "garden" praying for strength because our strength isn't enough to make it.

So when you begin your children, precious little snot-nosed tykes, and those little munchkins turn into weird looking teenagers that don't listen to music you approve of, dress, talk, or act as a respectable and honorable young man/woman should; do not raise your hands and say it's out of your hands. Finish them.

And as I was sitting here writing this, one last thing came to mind -Finish your faith.
The Bible declares God to be the author of our faith and that is true, but while we twiddle our thumbs, watch Big Brother and ponder who is going to win the Amazing Race, we expect God to somehow "Finish us" and we completely ignore the verses all around it.
Run the race, and let Him finish you.

Wherefore seeing we also are compassed about with so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us, and let us run with patience the race that is set before us,  Looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith; who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God. For consider him that endured such contradiction of sinners against himself, lest ye be wearied and faint in your minds. Ye have not yet resisted unto blood, striving against sin. Hebrews 12:1-4

I have a new book to read.

For those of you that watch me on facebook, I should tell you that it's not the book you think. For my blog readers, I'll just quickly tell you the good news a publishing company has contacted me about doing a review of one of their books. They're also offering to send extras for me to give away in a contest for you guys. I'm thrilled! And looking forward to talking with them next week.

But that's not the book I'm talking about here.

One of my favorite bloggers (C Jane Enjoy It) had a guest post this morning and the guest posted a quote: "Then the heart of Eowyn changed, or else at last she understood it. And suddenly her winter passed, and the sun shone on her. “I stand in Minas Anor, the Tower of the Sun,” she said; “and behold! The Shadow has departed! I will be a shieldmaiden no longer, nor vie with the great Riders, nor take joy only in the songs of slaying. I will be a healer, and love all things that grow and are not barren.”

It's a quote from J.R.R. Tolkians "The Lord of The Rings". It's a series I've never had any interest in before. I watched one of the movies then got so upset at it's "To be continued" style ending that I refused to watch the rest. I've heard that Tolkian was friends with C.S. Lewis and that there is supposed to be a lot of symbolism much like the Narnian books but, from what little I knew about the series, I couldn't see the symbolism being like Narnia at all. But this quote alone changed my mind. "Then her heart was changed, or else at last she understood. And suddenly her winter passed and the sun shone upon her."

I've seen that incredible moment in my own life, and I've got some folks right now that I would love to see that moment happen for them. I serve a great BIG God who would love to see that as well, but we're just too shadowed to at last understand.

The most interesting words that the creator pens immediately after this breakthrough really catch my eye though: "I will be a shieldmaiden no longer, nor vie with the great Riders, nor take joy only in the songs of slaying. I will be a healer, and love all things that grow and are not barren."

Eowyn knew what she needed to be.

This breakthrough of understanding didn't leave her wondering "what next?", she had a new path to follow. I'm NOT THIS anymore but I WILL BE that. I think too often we get into our minds and we decide what we don't like about ourselves and we decide I won't be this anymore. But never replace that thought with what we will be.

I think that's why we fail far more often than we succeed.

I haven't read the books yet. I will though, that's my very next step. I want to see if Eowyn succeeds. I want to see what becomes of her. I want to watch her journey. But most of all I wanted to write to ask this question - if not of you, then of myself - am I busy being what I will be? Or am I busy trying to not be what I won't be?

Talking about worship take 2

Even as I wrote yesterdays post something inside me twisted as, well, I know people that lead their church's worship service and people that have just tried so hard. These people are people that I love more dearly than my own life and the idea that they would read my blog and click away hurt or feeling as though they've failed makes me sick to my stomach.

So I'm back again to talk about worship vs. singing.

I don't think it has one thing to do with what songs are sung. I can worship my little heart out to "Victory in Jesus" or I can worship myself to pieces to "Lord I give you my heart". Some songs are just appropriate at different times. I still love "Oh, how I love Jesus" but adore the new version of "Amazing Grace" that includes "My chains are gone".

It's not about what you sing - though I find it hard to imagine worshipping to "Bringing in the Sheaves" - but it is entirely about how you sing it. I've loved my worship at every church I've been to. Whether it was my brother leading it, or another leader, or, on the off night that people didn't show up - the older lady that can't keep time. If you worship, I will do everything in my power to worship with you.

But here's what I get.

Sometimes, other people aren't worshipping with you. And it's hard to lead people into worship when they aren't going to go - or when you feel like you've left them behind because they just refused to follow you into worship. I get that. And quite frankly, I've never figured out what a good leader is supposed to do with that.

My gut? My (often angry little gut) says church is about God, and if they don't want to worship God then phooey on them - I'm worshipping till I'm done.
Then there's another little part of me that steps up and says "That just sounded really really selfish - they just need help"

I was in a church once that had people come in that led an incredible worship service and yet everyone around me sat there appearing to simply be waiting for the people to finish. I was fostering kids at the time so when I took one of the children away from an older woman so that I could stand up and worship with the child, the older lady looked at me and said "That music doesn't do anything for me."

I nearly bit my tongue in two trying to not say something.

It shook me to actually hear what people were thinking. It was almost better to imagine what people were thinking than to actually hear someone say it unrepentantly and not even realize what they'd said.

Worship isn't just music and song - truly, when I'm worshipping at my best I can't even sing. Worship is simple adoration, love devotion. Described in the Bible it's as simple and awe-striking as the angels calling out to each other HOLY - HOLY - HOLY. Imagine if we had a service today and all the speaker did for 30 minutes was call that out. I don't know what would happen, but I'd sure like to be there just in case.

By telling any church that hears me what happened to me last Sunday I, by no means hope that they will all simply follow those specific steps to accomplish what I had. Because truly, only one thing on that list is what brought it about. The leader worshipped and the people worshipped with him.

The people are so responsible for what happens in churches today and I think we honestly just don't realize it. One person sees another person worshipping and it moves them a bit deeper into worship, a 3rd person sees two people worshipping and it moves them deeper until more and more are turned towards worship.

I'll gladly raise my hand to be the first person to say "YES it's embarrassing" when you're one of the few and you're moving along at a far faster clip than everyone else. It's right up there with shouting hallelujah during a corporate board meeting. Worse still is that if I did it in the world they'd just think I was eccentric and weird. In the Christian world all too often you might get hit with another type of stick altogether. It's the stick that says "That's disruptive" or says that they're "over doing it for attention", I've even heard it being blamed as someone wanting to take control from the pastor by pulling a Holy Ghost spell that takes over whatever was going on in the service.

Sure those things happen. There is a reason Paul wrote specific verses about their being order in the church and even wrote guidelines about how to handle people speaking in tongues in church.

But for the most part, it's the people who are to blame. Not the leaders, not whether you sing off the wall (but seriously, that is just so handy - if you want to sing a song people don't know, POW it's right there on the wall, start singin') it's not about whether you sing too fast, or too slow. It's about leaders worshipping as people, and people worshipping as leaders.
And I just made that last line up on the fly, and I've got to tell you I think it's catchy.

Regardless, to my song leader friends out there and yes, I'm talking to you both, mother and daughter - I love you more than my own life, and I think you're wonderful leaders, and you have the most beautiful voices. Don't give up. Don't be discouraged. Don't weary yourselves thinking "I need to do better". It's not about trying harder.
I love you.

Eavesdropping in the ladies restroom.

I was visiting the ladies restroom when I heard a young voice call out from the stall:

"Mom? Are you still out there?"

Not even a moment passed before a tired looking woman leaning against the wall returned "Yes, I'm here".

In that moment I realized, how such a simple question could lead to panic. The child sounded fairly confident when she asked, but had the answer not been so forthcoming... I can easily imagine the fear that would have gripped her young heart.

I wonder, how often we call out like that to God and just don't recognize the answer. Or if sometimes the answer is to trust that when we can't feel Him he's still there -whether we hear Him or not- just because He said He would be.

It's not easy. And sometimes it just downright feels unsafe. But I love that I have a God that when I call out from the recesses of a darkened, small place, fearful and afraid - He's patiently leaning against the wall still. Never having even considered abandoning me. No matter how long I take.

In need of a Savior.

I’m trying to imagine a man who knew no sin.

It’s not easy to even imagine.

To a God who equals lust to adultery, and hatred to murder??? Yeah, It’s a bit hard to imagine someone who was able to meet those standards. Especially while He was accused of wrongdoing and crucified. Especially while He was able to know the hearts and motives of men.
Yeah… It’s hard to imagine.

So when I look though His word and I see Him and I see the meek and mild Man that was still so strong and outspoken – I can’t help but look at myself.

I’m sick at the thoughts of the vile things that go through my heart; anger, disregard, selfishness, even laziness – Even in trying to do good and do well my motives are not always exactly as I’d like them to be. I find myself tamping down desires for respect and praise, hoping someone sees Jesus in me not because they need to see Jesus but because I want people to know I’m “spiritual” and “good”. It’s a hypocrisy that – to me – is a worse sin than drunkenness. At least a drunk is honest about his failures.

Mine remain shrouded in deceiving cloaks of goodness as I try and do good while at the same time seeing and knowing my heart as utterly wicked.

As I see Him more, as I seek Him more, I seem to see myself more as well. I see darker recesses that I didn’t know where there –motives and intents that I was unaware of or simply never evaluated before. I see my attempts at beauty and goodness and cannot help but notice the black spots of sin and self tainting them.

There is no hope for me outside of Him. There is no rescue save Him.

I am in need of a Savior.

This need - this desperate need - did not end when I knelt down and accepted Him into my heart. That was simply a day when I received a glimmer of my need. And now, each day I wake I need a Savior. I’m in need. I’m lost without a Savior. I’m doomed without a Savior.

This is no message of sadness, no message of self-flagellation, this is my message of hope: because I have a Savior. I have what I need. I have a Savior who takes my wayward heart and slowly brings it around to what He wants it to be. I am not a completed work – but I am certainly not what I was before.

My sister-in-law posted on her facebook the first verse to Amazing Grace which most Christians know by heart:
Amazing Grace, How sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me
I once was lost. But now I’m found
Was blind, but now I see.

It’s perhaps those words that spurred me today to write of my own wretchedness that I’ve been battling lately. I am still a wretch. You will likely not see it, God has changed many of my actions, and changed some of my words – but when it comes to my need for a Savior I am still just as much in wretched need of Him today as I was the day He saved me. I just know it better now.

Lord help me Jesus,
I've wasted it,
So help me Jesus,
I know what I am,
But now that I know,
That I needed You so
Help me Jesus,
My souls in Your hand,

~~~
Your name is Jesus
Your name is Jesus
You’re the wonderful, counselor, my friend
You’re what I hold on to
I know that You brought me through
All the days of loss and to the cross, You knew
That I’d need a Savior

Lemons and Lessons

I own a lemon. I bought it at the very end of October. It was an ugly shade of red, in the right price range, and it got an all clear from a mechanic that I took it to. The very first car I've ever taken to a mechanic before purchasing, ironically enough.

Two weeks after purchase, my brakes failed. $466.95 to fix.
Not even two weeks after that, a pulley withered away and they had to drop my engine to get to it. $480 to fix.
Just barely a week later some unknown issue with my transmission won't allow the car to shift gears. The mechanic I talked to thinks he knows what it is and if my lemon has the piece on the outside of the transmission it's a fairly easy fix. If it's inside the transmission it's going to be like having my transmission rebuilt. I had to have it towed - $$$ - and tomorrow I find out what the official verdict is for the lemon.

As I sat for nearly an hour waiting for the lemon tow guy to arrive I simply had to ask something: "God, did I tick You off?"

I've been spoiled with so many blessings that it's easy to confuse blessings with favor and problems with disfavor. But as I sat there, pondering when you give up on a lemon and how long a person should keep trying or whether I'm a doofus for having tried this long; I couldn't help but ask that question. Are You mad at me?

But tonight, sitting here with a kitten in my lap I considered how pathetic I should become.
I got this dumb kitten maybe a month ago. It was right after the kids left the house, the neighbors had several kittens whose momma cat had died shortly after birth and the lady and her husband had been bottle feeding them. Finally at 4 weeks old the husband was giving them away or taking them to a shelter. I felt bad for the kittens, and considered how having one of these in the house would help keep me firm on my decision not to foster again (pet rules are ridiculous); I snagged one.

Today, still insanely small and likely as not to die just from being underfoot, this kitten has one huge preference in life: it just wants to sit in my lap. The moment I sat down to write this blog I had to remove it from my lap 3 times in just the few moments it took to put my laptop in my lap. Even now, he's wedged himself onto my lap right inbetween me and the laptop.

He follows me around the house - even trails me next door and back when I go to visit. He's almost - almost - as good as a dog.

But he's also obnoxious too and he's had some special moments where he was "taught" that some things weren't allowed in the house. The first time he climbed on my piano for example... But he has yet to hold a grudge. He never seems to worry about discipline no matter how strict or frustrated I get with him. He just does what he wants, and is slowly learning what not to do - and that the word "no" means something.

No matter what though, when I sit down I can fully expect that he is going to come climbing up.

It may seem irreverent but I couldn't help but think - so what if God is mad at me? God, if You are mad, teach me, lead me, smack me around with difficult circumstances until I learn to do what You want me to do. I'm sorry I'm stupid and undisciplined about some things - but while You're teaching me, just let me be in Your presence. Let me sit with You, let me be near You.
Hurt me if You must, bankrupt me with lemon after lemon, take my health, take my family. But God, when You sit, I want to sit with You. As You walk from room to room, I want to follow You. When I see You walk out the door, Lord I want You to have to restrain me to keep me from following after You.

I'm diligent in my life to try and not be "needy" towards people. They have their own burdens and don't need mine so I take care of myself and rarely look to others asking for support. But I'm constantly needing the reminder that I need to be needy with God. I need to be the pathetic little kitten that just got in trouble that doesn't care that it's in trouble as long as it's in His presence.

Perhaps one day I'll be as smart as this dumb kitten.

Though I'm not sure if God might be more of a dog-person.

Big things...

I've written about this before, but I enjoyed an interesting reminder last night as I was reading through Hebrews. I'd reached the "Faith Chapter", amazing story after story of amazing things that happened simply by faith. Those verses make me look at my life and grumble that I'm not doing big enough things for God.

But then Paul carries on to say that he doesn't have enough time to tell all the stories of those who through faith subdued kingdoms, quenched the violence of fire, became valiant in battle. Then in the very next sentences: "And others were tortured, not accepting deliverance...." "trial of mockings and scourgings..." "they were stoned, they were sawn in two", "wandered about destitute, afflicted, tormented"

It certainly puts simple things like grief into perspective.

It's easy to sit here, in my warm home, automatic dryer drying my clothes while I type out my thoughts, and wonder if God would ever call me to something so noble as what those martyrs went through. And while, in my time, it's easy for me to say that I'd face a gunman and easily declare my faith - the idea of "sawn in two"... it honestly makes me wonder if I'd be strong enough. I'd like to hope, but I cannot even begin to imagine that kind of suffering - or that kind of cruelty.

But it also reminded me of something I'd read somewhere else. In a book the girl declares she'd walk through fire for the boy she loved - but then she amended, that less dramatically, she'd be willing to slosh through the rain and cold every day for him. It was a simple reminder I suppose.

God isn't calling me to be sawn in two just yet, but He is calling me today to live for Him.
I wonder, truly, which is harder?

Taking care of ourselves.

Awhile back I was reading in Acts and chapter 4 really caught my attention. It's just shortly after Pentecost exploded on them, the disciples (plus some) were filled with the Holy Ghost, and things began to change for them. They began teaching people, healing people, doing some amazing things and sure enough, here came the leaders to tell them to stop. They threatened them and told them to no longer teach in the name of Jesus. So Peter and John then responded with a statement that's quite well known: "For we cannot but speak the things which we have seen and heard".

Peter and John came back to the group, told them about how they were threatened and told quite bluntly "Don't talk about Jesus anymore" (basically). All the people then, stood up and prayed "God help us be bold" (basically).

And now, Lord, behold their threatenings: and grant unto thy servants, that with all boldness they may speak thy word, Acts 4:24

Do you know what they didn't pray?

"God give us favor with these leaders."
"God protect us"
"God give us justice"
"God give us new leaders"
"God help us not get caught"

And do you know what happened?

And when they had prayed, the place was shaken where they were assembled together; and they were all filled with the Holy Ghost, and they spake the word of God with boldness.
And the multitude of them that believed were of one heart and of one soul: neither said any of them that ought of the things which he possessed was his own; but they had all things common.
And with great power gave the apostles witness of the resurrection of the Lord Jesus: and great grace was upon them all.
Neither was there any among them that lacked: for as many as were possessors of lands or houses sold them, and brought the prices of the things that were sold,
And laid them down at the apostles' feet: and distribution was made unto every man according as he had need.
And Joses, who by the apostles was surnamed Barnabas, (which is, being interpreted, The son of consolation,) a Levite, and of the country of Cyprus,
Having land, sold it, and brought the money, and laid it at the apostles' feet. Acts 4:31-37

It was a time in history that I'd give my eye teeth to have been a part of. For a short period of time, it was the perfect church.

And while I'm sure there are many keys in this chapter as to how to get the perfect church, the biggest part that always jumps out at me is their prayer.
We pray for protection from pain, and I can't seem to find a lot of Biblical examples of that. And certainly none that plead for that protection to the magnitude that we do - and we're not even asking it for the gospels sake. We're just asking for less financial worries so we can go out to eat more often, and maybe upgrade to the HD channels on our HDTV.

It's just natural instinct to say "self first". These guys knew the leaders weren't making idle threats though, and yet their first prayer was "Give us boldness". I'm betting they knew they were a little short on boldness.

It's a challenging thought, because even I see the value of adding a "...and protect us" to the prayer. But I wonder.. I just wonder.. if God doesn't want us to stop praying about our own care and leave that up to Him.

Is that not my name you're calling?

People rarely say my name right. If you don’t know me well, and sometimes even those that do know me well still get my name wrong. I’d played the piano in a church for over a year, when the pastor called “Jessica” to the piano. My name isn’t Jessica. Nor is it Jennifer, Janell, Janet, Janice, Gina, or Jamie. But I’m called by the incorrect name so often that I typically answer to them – regardless of what name you use. I am the girl with no name. But the other evening, I was walking into church when I heard someone say “Hey, you slipped right past me… Jennifer! Jennifer!” I’d come from the other side of the parking lot, no where near this man so I filtered through the information and the fact that they were still a long ways away from me to conclude he wasn’t talking to me so I kept walking.


This week, as I consider things I wish I had stopped. I wish I had turned around and just made sure. Yes, I’ve done things like this before and usually feel foolish because, well, obviously Jennifer isn’t my name either, but…. I wish I would have checked. Because when someone calls out to you there is a reason they called out your name. And people are too important to have them calling only to be ignored. Even if they’re calling the wrong name. I have too many names and none at all.

When God calls my name I want to be the person that is so anxiously waiting to hear her name called that she’ll answer for someone elses name too. When a hint of a name comes out, I want to be there saying “God? Did You call me? I’m here, I’m here God, if You called for me.”

It doesn’t have to be the right name. It doesn’t have to even be directed at me. I just want to be listening, eager, waiting.

For so many things in life you have to be patient, to have decorum, to show restraint and caution and wisdom. But there’s something perfect about imagining that excitable dog, who’s so happy to see his master that he’s leaning on the door, mouth panting and tail wagging, just waiting for you to come in. And when God sees me, waiting on Him, I’d love for Him to have that same sense from me. Perfect joy and excitement just to be near Him, to hear Him call my name, and to be able to turn around and say “Here I am Lord”.

Tail wagging and all.

What's Gods business?

Saturday was a long and tiring day, it had begun at 1:30am, followed by a 5 and a half hour drive, followed by 12 hours of trying to make my old house that I'd rented out, livable again for someone else. I'd listened to the neighbors as they came over to tell me how awful my renters had been, I'd photographed damages that don't even make sense how it occurred, and I'd even looked at the sites where they'd set fires around the house. It was a draining day in several ways.

I was ashamed at what I'd put my neighbors through. And disappointed in my renter more than I can express. I expected so much better from all of them.

As all of this was rolling through my head, I happened to mention out loud that I intended to pray a little harder for my next renters. And that's when it happened.

Someone had stopped by to bring me some more supplies and help me move the heaviest item, and they said to me, in no uncertain terms, "God is not in the property management business" They went on to say that no matter how much I pray it won't stop someone from doing me dirty. I can pray or not pray and it won't change a thing. (I'm paraphrasing because I was trying to go temporarily deaf after he said those first words).

Once I came home, and got a little bit of sleep, I finally took the time to think about what he had said and why it was wrong.

If God isn't in the property management business it's because I haven't put Him there! I absolutely do not believe that there are certainly areas in our lives that God just doesn't care about. That God just leaves us alone in and shrugs off whatever it is that we're doing and going through and ignores.

I think there are areas of our lives that we hope God ignores, like our habitual sins, our willful disobedience in certain areas. When we make a decision we know He was against we hope He just ignores it. When we take a job He told us wasn't in His plan, we hope His just leaves it alone. When we make a financial decision that costs us quite a bit and was unnecessary, we hope He still blesses us and maybe even blesses a little "extra" to cover the expenses we just racked up.

But even those areas have Gods attention.

Because WE have Gods attention.

God cares. He cares about my renters, He cares about me. He isn't some magic genie that I can just tell Him what I want and He goes and gets it for me, but when I pray that God will bless my renters, and draw them to Him, that He will give them peace and wisdom - I believe He hears me. And I believe that puts Him in my property management business. And any other business I have in this life that I'm living for Him.

Tell me what business God isn't in and I'll tell you an area in your life you've forgotten to pray about.

What if He's there?

I drove 333 miles to go to my parents and help them in their moving progress. Sunday though, I deserted them both and went to my old church to worship God and see many old friends and family.

But one of the two most important ones wasn't there. When I asked, I was told "When I left the house she was planning on coming."

I'm a doubtful person, so my immediate assumption was that she'd found out I was coming and didn't show up. I'd even tried to keep my visit a secret just to prevent that since several of my other visits have been an occasion for her to miss as well.

But simply because I over think things, I wondered to myself - "Maybe, just maybe, whatever stopped her from coming was something small and if you hadn't have been so stubborn and told her you were coming she would have come if she'd known you'd be there."

I don't think so.

But the minute that thought struck me, I was almost floored by another idea.

Why on earth would someone make an extra effort to come to church because I might be there, when the whole premise of church is that GOD is there.

In the Bible times, when someone knew Jesus was somewhere, they didn't stay home if they were sick, they went to Jesus because they were sick. They drug their sick friends and family, did without food, walked days and days just to be where Jesus could teach them. Could touch them.

Yet one of the kids gets a fever and the whole family stays home to wipe his nose.

What if He was there?

What if you walked into church on Sunday morning, with your sick child, spouse, self and said "I'm going to find the hem of His robe to touch today. I don't know what it will look like in todays circumstances, but I'm sure going to find it."

He promised that if two or three were gathered in His name, He would be there. So He came to church last Sunday. And I foolishly wondered if someone might have come if they'd have known I was there.

I think you'll disrupt the service if you go expecting something from God. If you walk in and say WAIT, I didn't get a blessing, I didn't get my healing, I didn't get a touch - LET ME THROUGH because He's here, and I'm here sick/tired/hurting, so He's not done here yet!

But I think it's high time our church services got disrupted by someone actually expecting Jesus to show up.

It's too easy to forget.

This is why we have days memorializing certain events. It's just too easy to forget. To live on.

Today, as I read the Americans Creed, I realized how painfully far off our country has gone. It's one of those things I know but tend to just not think about since there feels like there's nothing I can do about it.

The Americans Creed reads this:

I believe in the United States of America, as a government of the people, by the people, for the people; whose just powers are derived from the consent of the governed; a democracy in a republic; a sovereign Nation of many sovereign States; a perfect union, one and inseparable; established upon those principles of freedom, equality, justice, and humanity for which American patriots sacrificed their lives and fortunes.
I therefore believe it is my duty to my country to love it, to support its Constitution, to obey its laws, to respect its flag, and to defend it against all enemies. (William Tyler Page)

It's the last line that caught my attention:
It is my duty to love it, support its Constitution, obey it's laws, respect its flag, and to defend it against all enemies.

I tend to forget to defend it against all enemies.

I tend to forget that there is something I can do about it.

The Bible says: For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.

There is a place for our soldiers to fight and struggle for our freedom. But the battles for countries and wars and battles were won and lost by the sinfulness and righteousness of it's inhabitants. It's won and lost in our prayers and supplications to God.

It's too easy to forget and just say a 'bless me" prayer, or "help me" prayer. To just pray for my niece and nephew, and immediate family and other needs that I know of or that burden my heart - and forget the very nation in which I live.

But we need help. Our Nation, our beautiful, God founded Nation needs help. We're breaking and crumbling and the situation is desperate. We need God.
So I just want to write this as a reminder for myself, and if it helps you as well, wonderful:
Pray for our Nation.

Only God can save our Nation from it's downward spiral. Only God.

Jumping over the edge...

So here's the story from John 21...

Jesus has been crucified, appeared to His disciples twice and then Peter stands up and says "I'm going fishing." Several others say they'll go with Peter and off they go.
Unfortunately, they didn't catch anything all night long.
The next morning Jesus shows up on the shore (only the disciples in the boat don't realize it's Him). He asks them if they have any meat and they say "No", so He instructs them to throw the net on the right side of the ship.

They do, and by a miracle they catch so many fish they were not able to draw it in because there was just too much.

So that is when one special disciple named John turns to Peter and He indicates the man on the shore and says "It is the Lord."

Here is what the Bible tells us happened next:

"Now when Simon Peter heard that it was the Lord, he girt his fisher's coat unto him, (for he was naked,) and did cast himself into the sea. And the other disciples came in a little ship dragging the net with fishes."

There is something in me that has always called me to jump into the sea. Something inside me that screams that the little ship just isn't fast enough, not immediate enough. I want to spend my life jumping over the edge of the ship and swimming towards my Lord, every time.

There is nothing wrong with taking the ship. It gets you there, and someone had to be responsible enough to haul the fish they'd caught. And while I'm prone to an extraordinarily frustrating level to do the "responsible" thing - when someone tells me "There's Jesus", I want to leap.

No waiting. No arranging my recent catch. No getting my affairs in order. Just jump. And I love that the Bible gives me perfect examples of others doing the same thing.

Oh the places you'll go...

Dr Seuss once told me I'd go incredible places. But I never really believed him. I always assumed I'd be a normal person and do normal things in normal places just like every other normal person that I knew.

But, interesting things happened in my normal life that just didn't fit.
I became a flight attendant for American Airlines, spent 6 weeks learning evacuation drills and airport codes and learning how to fly. Would you care for a soda or a headset?

I sat in a hotel room watching the news as the second airplane flew into the World Trade Center. If it hadn't been for inclement weather, I would have spent that week stuck in Buffalo NY. Because of said weather I'd worked too many hours in one day so they had to cancel the next leg of my journey which had me snug in my apartment on that fateful Tuesday.

Then, years later I became a foster parent. Fell in love with 5 adorable children and stressed myself to the maximum that I could handle. Normal people don't suddenly receive two children in the middle of the night. Spend thousands of dollars on daycare for children that aren't their own and suddenly find yourself on CPS's speed dial.

But here's what I've discovered.

None of us are normal. Whether you feel it's your diagnosis, or some traumatic event or even a joyful event that's made you abnormal; you'll always be abnormal.

I remember a phone call from a woman who was simply on my phone because she wanted to order checks. In the course of a simple check order she had repeated at least 4 times that she was "the baby girl who was held hostage on the plane". I was curious for the story, but always mindful of time constraints I didn't ask for the story (though by mentioning it so often I assume she was itching to tell me).
She was ordering checks though - and based on the sound of her voice I had the impression that she was in her late 20's at least.
And yet, when asked anything concerning her identity she defined herself by name and by the fact that she was the "baby girl who was held hostage on the plane".

It's easy to define ourselves by the abnormal things that happen to us, for us, around us.

Or we'll even define ourselves by the mundane or ridiculous.
"What ruby stone are you?"
"Which Harry Potter character are you?"
"Which color of the rainbow are you?"
"Which ice cream flavor are you?"
"Which Biblical character are you?"
"Which celebrity are you?"
"Which cartoon character are you?"
Thank you facebook for your ability to define me so easily.

But our true definition, comes from an event that took place 2000 years ago that concerns us. Yet too often we minimize it and don't see our identity in it. And yet, it defines us far more than say, winning the lottery or a cancer diagnosis.
It defines you more than your rape.
It defines you more than your secrets.
It defines you more than your successes.
It defines you more than your money.
It defines you more than your Olympic medal.
It defines you more than your friends, or who you know.
It defines you more than your election Senator.
It defines you more than your addictions.
It defines you more than your past.

This one event eclipses anything else about you that you might assume to be important. Your looks, your car, your home, your kids abilities, your job.
It says you are the adopted child of GOD HIMSELF.
It says you will have eternal life.
It says you have access to the King who is able to do all things. The One for Whom nothing is impossible.
It also allows you to walk, and talk, and live your life in a relationship with Jesus Christ, God the Father, and the Holy Spirit as they speak into your life and lead you into holiness.
Because you once were lost, and now you're found.

So next time you consider who you are and what you're capable of - make sure you base it on the correct information.

He loves me the hard way.

At work I was eating lunch with some of my fellow trainees and the subject of our jobs happened to come up as one person announced that they were still debating whether or not to keep the job. They were thinking about giving it up and just living with their mom.

Another guy chimed in that he would do that, except he didn't like his dad. If it were just his mom and him, he'd think about doing that too.

Another lady announced that if she could afford to, she would never make her kids work and would be willing to let them just live with her for however long they wanted, never forcing them to have to work.

Time was getting close, so I took that opportunity to gather my things and go back to work lest I say something that would completely change the atmosphere of the table.
Something along the lines of - "I'm so sorry your parents don't really love you, and I'm sorry you don't love your kids."

Yeah, so you see why I walked away.

And sure, while I walked away I thought with gratitude concerning my parents requirement of chores and teaching me the value of hard work and money.

But it wasn't until later that I realized that the same thing applies to God as well. My growth hasn't just come without any type of cost. I have been allowed to struggle, and fight, and doubt, and yell, draw wrong conclusions, learn right conclusions, be wrong, lose friends, gain bad friends, be hurt.

It's easy to hope that love treats you well. Makes things nice for you. But too often - in our false ideas of what love is - we expect things to always be nice, to feel good, to be pleasant. We want it to be easy. We expect love to make things easy.

And despite my constant whining and crying over the issue...I'm so thankful that God loves me enough to let me struggle. To grow me, no matter how hard it is to teach me certain lessons. I'm so thankful for all the doubts, and all the fears that drove me to places with God I wouldn't have found otherwise.

I'm thankful that He loves me - every bit perfectly. Not afraid to do the hard things to me no matter how angry I get or how many times I hate Him for it. He's willing to let me walk away for a time, to let me be distant.

If I feel bad when a customer I don't even know gets frustrated with me - how great a love does He have for me that He's willing to do absolutely whatever it takes. I'm constantly amazed by His love. And through it, I see what love really should be. And I see how selfish love is the one that never challenges.

Fair warning to foster children everywhere - if you get stuck with me I'm going to truly love you as best as I can. Niece, Nephew - I'm going to truly love you the best that I can. And you may not enjoy it. But you'll be better people because of it.

Love someone today. Just don't expect people to appreciate it right away. :)

Too much.

There is a post over at Jon Acuffs' blog "Stuff Christians Like" that I've been reading over and over again called "Two Words".
It's a great post stemming from a comment his daughter made about what might happen after some publishing company bought her daddys book. She announced that if they made too much money they could give it to Vietnam. (He is currently working with his readers to build a 2nd kindergarten over there right now too - click here to give).

In part of this post he said this: "I love that. I love that as a six year old she still believes in the concept of “too much” money. Those words are so foreign to me as an adult. There’s no such thing as “too much” money. That’s crazy talk. Have you ever heard someone at work say, “Yeah, my wife and I realized we have too much money so we’re trying to figure out how to do something with it before it does something with us."

I read that post and I thought about how crazy my focus is sometimes. I'll be the first to tell you what I don't have, what I lack, how I'm not enough. But God has abundantly blessed me with too much. I just don't focus on it, utilize it, or appreciate it.

He's given me too much. He's given me so much that I have enough to give to others.

It's just too easy for me to only see in terms of money and possessions. Or worse yet, to use that money only to acquire those things that I deem to make my life "enough". That attitude only leaves me feeling unsatisfied and frustrated.

But when I really sit back and see what He's done, what He's given me, how He has blessed me, I can only see, with joy overflowing, that I've got too much. How can I give it away.

For me, part of it lately has been to pour it into this blog. I am encouraged, I am blessed, I am hopeful, and it's all during some pretty scary times. So whatever your scary time, whatever you're facing where you're tempted to believe whatever it is isn't "enough", let me give you some of my peace. He's given me too much.
Let me give you some of my hope. He's given me too much.
Let me give you some of my joy. He's given me too much.
Let me tell you what God has done. He's done too much.

Are you a grinning-thumbs-up-dude?

I rode my bicycle past countless faces. Some zipping by in economical Hondas', other roaring along in their monster SUV's. Some on the phone, others studiously not looking my direction, and others still simply staring at me as I slowly pedal my way down the road.

Occasionally you'll find some one that smiles and waves. Sometimes I'm just happy if they smile.
But the other day, I found the one person I like best of all; he was driving his small white pick up, looking as though he was heading off to work. He swiveled his neck to see me pedaling my way along and he grinned and gave me two thumbs up.

I was thrilled, because I had finally come across someone that seemed truly happy.
I like happy people.

Go back in time to a Sunday just awhile back when I took a step away from my normal habitats and instead went to a Baptist church. It turned out that they were missing their piano player that morning and so I offered to help them out. As I played, the people sang rather unenthusiastically, and never even pretended to clap. As I played, I was constantly trying to gauge myself and make sure I did not get too enthusiastic myself and offend my new Baptist friends.

When the service ended however, I found myself converged upon by people that were excited. It was as though the minute church was over they came to life. One man laughing and grinning even said he expected smoke to start coming from the piano at any minute from the way I was playing... (And that was with me playing in a toned down fashion!). I don't think I could have been more shocked at their comments and the sudden change in atmosphere after the final prayer was said.

And I wondered about who we really are. Deep down inside. Underneath the professional demeanor, the formal spiritual airs, outside the stress of being a mother/father, and the stress of being a single person juggling too many things by yourself.

Somewhere, deep down inside, I wonder if we all have that grinning-thumbs-up-guy attitude just waiting to come out.

I admit, I feel a little beaten down concerning attitudes. Happy attitudes aren't always appreciated, and looking on the bright side or looking for a positive in a situation seems almost as welcome as someone yelling at you. But I keep looking out for people just like my thumbs-up guy. The world isn't full of stoic people that only feel the weight of the world. It's full of some pretty incredible people that just can't seem to get the candle out of the bushel so to speak.

I suppose this post isn't exactly "Christian", it doesn't have some type of Spiritual application or some valuable lesson about Gods character. It's just a post that says be happy. I don't care if I lose my home, my family dies and someone runs over my dog, steals my man and gives me a bad haircut all in the same day. I have reason to be happy. I have reason to have joy.
I want to be a grinning-thumbs-up-guy that just can't be stopped.
Except I'll be a girl.

Aunt Net loves you.

I had nearly 800 blog posts sitting in my google reader to catch up on when I got back and somewhere in the middle of them was a gem of a thought: In the Bible, love is described by actions rather than feelings.

I've never been the most original person in the world, so I've always been happy to find someone elses idea and flow with it. This is one time I'm sure I won't regret it. Loving someone, and performing all the less self actions necessary to show that love, is worth it.

My niece created a power point project for school and each slide showed a person in her life or an interest she enjoyed. Slides for her mom included details like where she worked and some other tidbit I can't remember. Slides for her dad included where he worked and some other detail. My slide? It was blank. The slide for the dog she doesn't have? Includes details about how great dogs are.

I gave her no end of harassment that she would be able to come up with more information concerning a dog she doesn't actually have than she could come up with about me. Yet today as it came to mind again a single thought stuck with me: "What would I want her to say about me?"

And then, as I thought about the greatest thing I love about God I realized I would want her to have as her one thought when she had to describe me:
"My Aunt Net loves me."

One of the reasons I love God so much today is because of how He treated me when I walked away from Him. How He loved me and relentlessly pursued my return and my surrender. I know I'm going to mess up and be a perfectly moronic idiot more times than I can count in my life - but I also know that through it all He will love me.

I don't have to worry that His affections will wander, that my sins and foolishness will one day be the final straw that makes Him give up on me. I know He loves me, and will love me, regardless of how I fail. And because of that, I will try harder not to fail, to not be that perfectly moronic idiot whose sins and foolishness might drive someone away.

And that's a gift. A gift I don't take lightly anymore. A gift that I can realize and understand better than I did 5 years ago... better than I did even 1 year ago.

But to give that kind of a gift to someone else I have to not just sit around feeling good feelings towards people. I have to actually act it out. Every day. Every time. I need to act patiently, kindly, not be boastful about myself, not be prideful, not seek my own satisfaction or needs first. I cannot be easily provoked, or think evil about others, I can't be happy about someone elses sin, and I have to rejoice in the truth.
I must bear all things (this does not mean with a sigh and a glare to ones side).
I must believe all things (this does not mean say I believe them while I think negative thoughts).
I must hope all things (this does not mean saying that I hope in order to cheer others, while I have lost hope myself).
I must endure all things (this does not mean surviving bad things while I throw pity parties and whine and moan).



In other words, I need to act as gracious as a any dog you'll ever meet. They fulfill 1 Corinthians 13 perfectly.


It's not an easy thing to do, and I need to get a lot better at it as anyone of my family or friends could probably tell you. But it's the greatest gift God has given me (outside of salvation) just to be loved and to be able to count on that love.

So for all the gifts that I wish I could give my niece, my nephew, my brother and his wife, to my friends and family, to you, it's simply this:
Aunt Net loves you.

One glass of water at a time.

When my brothers family and I moved to San Antonio, we immediately started working on our health. We are flat broke with all the movement and job changes, so some of the decisions were easy. No soda, only water to drink and we didn't eat seconds on foods simply so the kids could have more to eat.

That did a lot for us.

We began riding bikes, playing together outside (basketball, kickball, etc.) and one of us even tried to kill themselves multiple times just running up and down the stairs (it wasn't me).

We haven't been here quite 4 months yet, and all of us have lost at least 30 lbs. Some of us even more than that.

But then I go to visit my parents.

They have not adopted healthy ways at all. In cooking scrambled eggs one morning my dad actually dumped a half a cup of bacon grease into the eggs so "they will taste like bacon". My mom, whose alzheimers doesn't let her remember one moment from the next constantly pours Dr Thunder (the cheap Dr Pepper knockoff) every time I turn around. And ice cream seems to be on the menu for every meal. Literally, the evening meal Saturday night consisted of cake and ice cream.

It would be the easiest thing in the world to say "I'm just visiting, I'll drink their soda, I'll eat their sugary desserts and I'll swallow my scrambled grease egg.

But here's the deal... my ways are better than theirs. Their meals are unhealthy, bad for the body, and leads to physical problems. The whole reason I am eating right and being more active is because I choose to live a better life. I choose to be healthier and thus, hopefully, have less physical problems. I believe a healthy lifestyle is important.

So if I go to someone elses home and abandon my healthy lifestyle for the visit... well, I'm not only hurting myself but maybe I'm not clear about my reasons for doing what I do. Am I living healthily only because my environment is a healthy one? Do my habits change because of my environment?

And then I realized how easy it is for us to do that as Christians.

We're Christians... super spiritual, quick to pray and talk about how good God is when we're surrounded by our brothers and sisters in Christ. But put us in another environment and we tend to "Well, I'm just visiting, I'll just go with the flow and pick back up my good lifestyle when I get back home".

I've made it a habit to take fruit with me when I visit my parents now. I refuse their sodas to the point that I (while feeling badly about it) pour it down the drain when it's poured for me. I drink my water, I eat my fruit while they get another bowl of ice cream. I remain faithful to what I believe is important and necessary while I'm there.

And do you know what happened?

This weekend they had already stocked the fridge with fruit.
And dad is constantly commenting about what I will and won't eat.
Yet I've never really said anything.
I just remained who I was in front of them, and it was noticeable.

So today, I encourage you to be exactly who you are. Don't change it because you're around people that don't agree. And if they remark that they should be reading their Bible more when they see you sit down and read yours, don't worry about making them feel guilty. You didn't. The Holy Spirit did.
And as long as you do what is right, always, no matter what environment you are in... you will begin to change that environment some.
What's the point of being peculiar if no one sees your peculiarities?

I can't wait to go back.

I worried about going to Mexico this time. My mind remembers it as crowded, with people on every side of you trying to get your attention. It can easily be overwhelming. The sidewalks are full of carts of things, and people trying to hawk them to you. Men, lots of men, everywhere, calling out to you, trying to sell you on a multitude of various items. If you act interested in any of them, you are promptly taken by the arm and walked to their building.
It's probably these few brief visits that have taught me the most about boldness and standing up for myself. I learned to know what I'm there for and not be afraid to dig for it - refusing to be distracted.

Then, and only then, do I allow myself the freedom to wander slowly down the aisles of a nearby marketplace, enjoying the unique beauty of the strange items so similar but different to our own stores. To lose focus and simply enjoy the strangeness of the culture around me.

It's in those moments that I wonder why I feared coming here. The beauty and culture, the very life of these people around me is so overwhelmingly powerful in a good way. These streets seem to have a story to tell of so many people walking down these roads, or of those natives who sit on these roads day in and day out struggling to make money for their families to eat.
This place has a life of it's very own - I can't wait to go back.
~~~~
I worry about reading my Bible. My mind remembers it as crowded with information on every side vying for my attention. It can easily be overwhelming. The chapters are full of things, words with strange meanings, or secondary meanings just trying to get me to to show interest. Words, thoughts, ideas, questions, all calling out to me trying to sell me on multiple opinions or doctrines. If I act interested in one item I'm promptly paraded past verse after verse drawn away from my original search and led down paths that I never intended to to wander down.
It's probably in my many visits there, that I have learned focus, and boldness and the ability to discipline myself. I learned to know what I'm there for and not be afraid to dig for it - refusing to be distracted.

Then, and only then, do I allow myself the freedom to wander slowly through the pages, and verses that lead me down unusual paths. To enjoy lives, hearts and words so similar and yet so very different from my own. To lose focus and simply enjoy the strangeness of the culture within.

It's in those moments that I wonder why I worried about reading this Book. It is vast and valuable, so unique and immeasurable in the very life of it somehow these inanimate pages have a life all their own. I can't wait to go back.