Something to learn

An idea came to me, it's no new idea, I'm sure any of you could have probably told me this long ago. But, it was just a thought that had never occurred to me in this particular form before. So, now, in keeping with my true fashion, I'm going to analyze it to death hoping to gain some new insight.

I'd written something earlier in the year about expectations. I re-read it this morning and combined with a gift I recently received it made me stop and think.

I received a quilt last week. The quilt was sent with a note to let me know that I was being thought of and prayed for, and they hoped the quilt would be a reminder of that for me. I didn't expect them to do that. It didn't even occur to me that someone would do that. But if I had thought someone would want to give me that kind of reminder, my mind would never have imagined a quilt. Just for the simple reason that I wouldn't have thought of it.

I could expect them to lead a 2 hr prayer meeting two nights a week. I could expect them to visit every shut in at least twice a week. I could expect them to save ketchup packets to squirt into our bottle of ketchup at church, so we could be better stewards of our money. My expectations would be foolish, and leave me disappointed.

But instead of doing all those things that might be expected, they do other things I don't expect. They install hot water heaters for women in the church, they practically jump the minute you seem to even remotely imply that you need help, and they seem to long for your family to get right with God as much as you do.

But more than anything, when I met them, I expected them to tell me information about God. Again, ignoring expectations, they instead showed me how to live a Godly life. I've spent 24 years getting information about God. And now 1 year of learning with living examples that has taught me more in this 1 year, that I learned in those other 24.

I didn't expect that.

But, that's only my example. They aren't what this post is about. It was just the springboard that brought me to what I'm thinking about now.

I expect a lot of things of God. When I pray, I don't expect him to "answer", I expect Him to say yes. I expect Him to heal the sick I pray for, provide justice when I demand it, shower money on the people I think need it, give jobs to those that I've decided should get better jobs, and if someone that's suppose to be a Christian is doing something wrong, I expect Him to make it stop.
My expectations are foolish, and often leave me disappointed.

Instead, while I pray for Health, justice, money, jobs, and for the world to be a perfect place, He gives me peace, patience, love, warmth, compassion, mercy, hope, faith. He gives me something to reach for, something to strive for. He's given me dreams.
He's freed me from bitterness and anger, from fear and hating life. He's given me a brand new life.

I didn't expect that.

My expectations would always leave me still wanting more. And they always leave out the things that I truly desire. If my friends that gave me the quilt did everything that everyone expects a Pastor and his wife to do, we'd all miss out on the very best part of knowing them. In that same way, if God did all the things we expect Him to do, our physical lives would change. For 80-100 years probably. But our spiritual lives, left unattended by our expectations, would wither away and die. It's just not worth it.

But to carry on I need to start applying this idea to others. Not just in terms of God. I need to remember that my expectations of people aren't necessarily God's. And while I can still expect good things from everyone, it's God who decides what those things will be, not me. If my expectations ruled the world, well... I'd have a lot of ketchup packets and no quilt to comfort me.

Good morning

I'm working out of town today so I'm up and blogging early. The problem is, it's nearly 5am and I'm just not clever or interesting at all at 5am.

The problems of my morning so far have revolved around leaky milk jugs and eggs that seem to have simply given up on life and exploded while waiting around in the fridge for me to get to them.
I'm hoping the klutz factor to my cooking abilities will somehow just fade away before a child dies of malnutrition here. Well, I'd never let that happen, but I don't know how long a child can exist on McDonalds and bologna sandwiches. I also don't know why on earth they spell something bolo-g-n-a when it sounds like baloney. But that's just one of the things you wonder about at 5am.

Anyway, to those that I know read my blog, I like you and I count you as friends. So I encourage you to stay home today, if you must get out don't go far from home. Don't try and fix anything electrical, or use anything sharper than a butter knife. If someone comes to the door and you don't recognize them, don't answer it. And if you think the food is old, for goodness sakes don't eat it.

I have a history, a strong history, of bad things happening when I go out of town. So be careful out there today. And hopefully we'll all be safe till I return to blogging on Monday.

Buenos diás!

One signature can change your life

I'm a foster parent.
I signed several pieces of paperwork and my signature line didn't just say "signature" it said "foster parent signature". I looked at that line over and over and thought that surely there must be another line that I'm suppose to sign on since I'm not a foster parent. But I am. Or at least a close enough to one for their technical signing purposes.

I chose to become a foster parent because it feels like God's plan for my life. As a matter of fact, I know it's God's plan for my life.
I chose my agency because I knew it was the agency God was drawing me to.
I chose the timing of now because it was the timing God wanted me to do this in.

Everything, all sorts of big and small factors have just, amazingly, fell into place. Yet after my 4 hours of questioning during the homestudy I honestly thought the only way I'd ever actually become a foster parent is if God works one more miracle and speaks in an audible voice to the director of the agency.

I'm 25 and I feel young. Not in a "young and vibrant" kind of way, but a young and foolish kind of way. There's a certain amount of wisdom that I think all parents should have, and I don't feel that wise yet. I know God can see my heart, and knows that through Him I can do this. But the agency workers can't see with God's eyes. And while I hate to think that they have horribly low standards, I just can't imagine what they see in me that they would trust me with this job.

But it's done. I sit here now both anticipating and dreading every ring of my phone, not knowing when the call will come. But God thinks I can do it. So I will do it.


I'll say Yes, Lord, yes, to Your will and to Your way
I'll say Yes, Lord, yes, I will trust You and obey
When Your Spirit speaks to me, with my whole heart I'll agree
And my answer will be yes, Lord, yes.

I hope

Yesterday was wonderful.

The burden that is my unceasing wave of thoughts (my brain never seems to stop thinking) was lifted. Most of my thoughts yesterday were nothing but praise and thankfulness. Thoughts on the joyful things in life, and the good things surrounding me.

The day was almost over when I began thinking about how the day had started with me chasing a bad dream. I only spent a few minutes chasing that dream, but I spend hour after hour, day after day chasing so many good dreams. Good dreams that I can see will actually come to fruition, and other good dreams that have already been realized.

God's taken care of me in so many ways. Before some of the most challenging days in my life I can remember that shortly before that day came I had a really wonderful day. This day wasn't any different. Looking down at today from the contentment still there from my day yesterday I found myself having to choose to trust God and keep my contentment rather than look at my worries and try and think them out.

There are so many scary things in this world; different challenges that each of us face in growing that it's hard to always remember that God has allowed everything that's happened to happen. Much the same as I have goals and dreams that I'm working towards, God has goals and dreams for me that He's working towards seeing come to life.

That part excites me.

I hope I always remember those good days. I hope I always randomly force myself to slow down into the simplicity of something like Mr. Rogers Neighborhood. I hope I always keep hoping.

Besides all the things I hope for, I've especially begun to hope for the day that the the clouds roll back and my King comes to take me to my real home. A day when every tongue confesses Him as Lord -- no more conflict over who is right and who is wrong -- and ever knee bows -- no more indifference -- and friends that I look forward to knowing the next 20 years will be with me in Heaven for an eternity. I have hardly begun to hope in seeing Christ, because it's more than my mind can comprehend. I can't even fathom seeing Christ so I spend most of my time imagining what I can imagine.

So I hope. And I hope to give hope. It's just too stressful living without it.

Sharing a snappy day.

Apparently God decided to oblige me and help me out in my decision to make this a "snappy new day". And since my posts are generally so serious, I thought I'd share my wonderful day with you. It's been a good day, a happy day.

To have a different day, you can almost guarantee it by having a different attitude.

Of the few chores (besides work) I needed to accomplish today, I needed to call and extract some information from my mother. Easier said than done when she's got alzheimer's. Fortunately for everyone in the family, she hasn't gotten to the mean stages yet, and tolerates our curious looks with the ease of someone entirely oblivious to them.

I called her to find out the city I was born in. She didn't know and so she tried to dig out my birth certificate. She then spent the next ten minutes trying to convince me that the birth certificate was in her hot little hands and was entirely blank. All those little fill-in-the-blank spots normally filled by mothers name, fathers name, babys weight, time of birth, etc. etc. All that was blank. Making her argument all the more convincing was her insistence that it was signed, had a golden seal and was in an envelope marked "Birth Certificate".

Finally everything was straightened out and she found my actual birth certificate. I began joking about being the child from nowhere, with no parents. Unfortunately, by that time she'd already forgotten the whole ordeal and I had to explain why on earth I'd say I was from no where.

At some point she's going to end up living with me and I truly hope God gives her some special reward for having to spend her final years in my hands.

Won't you be my neighbor?

Sunday night I went to bed and I dreamed that my house was on fire. I spent who knows how much time trying to put it out and while I did get the fire out, it seemed to be out more because there wasn't anything left to burn, than due to my efforts.

Skip forward to 4am this morning. I'm lying in bed staring at the ceiling when I hear a siren. I don't generally pay any attention to them because my house is on a street that every ambulance and fire truck seems to use as the quickest route to get across town. I idly noted that the siren stopped suddenly rather than the normal sound of it passing by. I still thought nothing of it. Then I saw the emergency lights no longer moving, but stopped and flashing in my bedroom window.

Lying in a nice warm bed, on a cold sleepy morning I was 110% wide awake.

It turned out to be nothing. I still don't know what was going on, but by the time I got to the window the fire truck was moving on down the road again. If only everyone could have so effective an alarm clock.

But then it was still 4am and I was wide awake. I made as good a use of the time as I could, but by 5:30 in the morning I found myself watching Mr. Rogers Neighborhood. Yes, you read right. Mr. Rogers Neighborhood. This morning I learned that everyone has feelings about grandparents, how straws are made, and I was asked what it must feel like to be a fish. I don't think anyone's ever asked me that before.

As Mr Rogers changed his jacket so he could leave he sang "It's such a good feeling".
If you click on the link you can hear the song as well.

It's a good show, and it started my day off quite nicely. Though, finding out my house wasn't burning down was a pretty good start as well.

It's 8am now and I'm off to follow Mr. Rogers lead and make it a "snappy new day". Which is pretty easy to do since I've got such a good feeling.

By the way, if any of my neighbors happen to read this; if you see my house on fire, please put it out. :)

My deliverer is coming

I'm ready to fight. I'm also very excited to take up this fight. That's probably the unrighteous part of my righteous indignation.

I only have two previous fights (of any real substance) under my belt. The first fight closed down Burger King (exactly what I prayed for), and the second fight earned me an apology from my public library.

In this fight, I want to win Godly leaders, making Godly decisions, and standing up to make Godly changes.

My church has spent a year making payments on a debt that has not moved one penny. Our payments drop into a seemingly bottomless well that is our interest and past interest and is never seen again. A small church of maybe 20 has made debt payments of over eight hundred dollars a month for the past twelve months. And yet each time, each payment, earned us nothing except a history of being faithfully robbed.

After a few months attending the church, and coming to understand the situation I became frustrated. A few more months and I was outraged. Now, after having been with this church for over a year, I am sickened, hurt, angry, and most of all distrustful of the "leaders" who after hearing our petition for mercy, deigned to forgive one-third of the interest on our debt.

May God show them more mercy, than they have shown us.

From the research I have been able to do so far, one of the reasons our denomination moved away from the Methodist is because they strayed from the teachings of holiness. What becomes of our denomination if our leaders stray from those very teachings themselves?

Of the few times I've picked up my righteous indignation and started picking at a perceived injustice; something has always happened. I firmly believe that God still moves. God still works. God is still as faithful today as He was when He gave us His Word. If a widow can change a judges decision by persistence, then I will learn her lesson of persistence.

Either I will become convinced that they have not put money above following Gods principles concerning money, they will become convinced they have wronged us and make reparations, or they will see the downfall of their organization. No organization built on Godly principles can stand once it has chosen continued sin and disobedience.

I began this with only two possible outcomes on my mind. The fact that a third has appeared and cannot be shaken startles me. But ultimately means that I should fight all the harder that they see the truth.

I wanted to post this mainly so I will have a record of the day I started this. Not to aid me today, but because one day I will look back on my posts. I will see this post and remember back to this struggle. And I will remember God's answer. Even if I only discover that my indignation is wrongfully placed. This post will one day be yet another reminder -- whether I fail or succeed as I see it -- of a day in my walk.

Meanwhile, I have hope. Hope in a God that hears my prayers and is wholly, not partially merciful. Hope in a God that allows affliction but provides deliverance. Hope in a God that loves.

And that is why I'm excited.

Unseen powers

I'm an avid reader.

The huge bag I carry with me almost always has at least one book in it. Waiting in long lines, waiting at railroad crossings for a train that has stopped, things like that generally don't bother me. While you're counting the minutes I'm reading.

I'm re-reading a series and just finished book two today, and this particular book was 974 pages, the book before that had a few more than 800 pages. That's nearly 1800 pages. 1800 pages of a constant war between good and evil. I've read the details of vile torture being done to a man to get him to tell the secrets he hid to protect the innocent. I've read of horrible beasts that do horrific things. To see someone die quickly in this book is a relief, it has spared you pages of torment before their death. The evil ones in these books seem to have no limits. The good ones in these books seem to be all too limited.

But despite what the characters believe about how much power they have, they have never failed to be able to accomplish what was necessary. For one character, giving himself over to hate and anger gives him a powerful magic, when that same character gave himself over to love and forgave his enemy, there was nothing that could prevail against him.

These books are almost tiresome in the way that the very second one threat is eliminated another three are waiting to take it's place. The characters, the good ones at least, never seem to rest. And despite the fact that they believe their power isn't nearly enough to stop the threat to the world, they carry on unwaveringly in their mission to try.

Under normal circumstances their magic is exactly what it is, no more or less powerful. But under extreme circumstances, when they know it's do or die, in sheer and blind fear they give everything they have. It is then that they find that their magic is capable of doing things no one imagined or expected, including their enemy. And it is always enough. The most encouraging thing about it is that the power is/was always available to them, they just don't know how to tap into it until they were backed into a corner. And even then it only comes out once the only thing left to them is absolute desperation.

My brother and I both read this same series before, and when I asked him if he noticed a theme to it he said yes, he had, but found the theme to be technology. I've noticed some very well written digs at the welfare system, but that is it. So it could be that others would only read these books and wonder how I could become so gripped by it, when the evil described is absolutely sickening. But I see God on nearly every page. I see things that are impossible, becoming possible because of an unseen hand. I see that while truth always wins, it is immediately followed by another attack from a tireless enemy who simply replaces it's lost minions with new ones.

I see mostly, that just like the characters in this story, the power of God to conquer any foe, or get through any situation is always available to me. I just have to learn to tap into it.

Food lesson #8

Food, that is two weeks old, regardless of looks or smell, if eaten, will make you very unhappy.

Death

My mother came to my office today. She came in composed, then broke down and cried, the composed herself again, then cried again. Her face was tired and her movements slow at first, she seemed somehow stronger when she did leave.

Letting out the tears, and then being distracted from the pain can bring a relief that money can't buy sometimes.

My parents spent yesterday at the doctor. They were ultimately told that the surgery previously planned for my dad would not be taking place. There's too much cancer and it's spread to at least 6 spots on his bones now.

I do not wish him dead, but I find myself more and more grateful that I'm coming to the final page in this book. That one day I'll be able to breathe a breath of relief, knowing that someone that has brought so much pain, will never hurt anyone again.
I am tired from holding my breath, from watching suspiciously, from trying to forever counter an enemy who strikes with twisted truth in weak places no one would ever notice and only when no one is watching.

I have learned so much good from him though. I have learned to be a hard worker, I have learned to pay bills on time, every time. I have learned that if someone needs help my answer should always be yes, more so, I've learned to offer before they ever have to ask. I've learned to tithe and tithe generously and faithfully.

And because of him I learned "shades" of truth, I learned myself how to twist it around so people would not be hurt, and because of that I've learned how simple it is to lie. Even in the simplest words from saying "We" instead of "I". There is 100% truth, and there is a lie. I hope to spend the rest of my days speaking only truth, 100% truth with nothing ever again tweaked to serve my purpose.

Sometimes the things you learn from people are simply the ways not to do things. Because of my dad I've learned who I don't want to be. I've learned to guard against foolish things that can eat at me and ultimately control and ruin me. More than anything, because of this man I have learned compassion. Not the easy compassion felt for someone innocent, but the difficult compassion felt for someone who has given you pain.

When I left home at 17 I was fervently praying that my dad would die a slow and painful death so that he might gain even a glimpse of the pain he causes. Today I sit having watched him do just that, and I've learned that true regret brings a pain all it's own.

He's dying, but he's dying while working hard trying to make sure that my mother will be well taken care of when he dies. I hope I die with even half that kind of strength.

A link to a link to a link.

In my regular blog rounds this morning I stopped at Marshian Chronicles and read a really good post on Casting Vision. He provided a link to Jolly Blogger, who had a really good post about Visionary Dreaming. They both quoted from a book by Deitrich Bonhoeffer called "Life Together".

I'm going to give you the quote from the book that they used, but before you form your opinions from just that one quote - which will leave you with a lot of objections - I'd recommend you go read the other post which clarify. I agree with Louie over at Marshian Chronicles in that visionary dreaming isn't bad at all. It's just how you go about it that can be bad.
So here's the clip from the book:

"God hates visionary dreaming; it makes the dreamer proud and pretentious. The man who fashions a visionary ideal of community demands that it be realized by God, by others and by himself. He enters the community of Christians with his demands, sets up his own law, and judges the brethren and God Himself accordingly. He stands adamant, a living reproach to all in the circle of brethren. He acts as if he is the creator of the Christian community, as if his dream binds men together. When things do not go his way, he calls the efforts a failure. When his ideal picture is destroyed, he sees the community going to smash. So he becomes, first an accuser of his brethren, then an accuser of God, and finally the despairing accuser of himself."

Slowing down and pleasing God part 2

I didn't intend for this to be a two part post, but my last post left out something important that I wanted to get in. It feels necessary to complete the thought that I started in the last post. So if you haven't read the post "Slowing down and pleasing God" click on the title and read it first.


As I was reading the bible last night, Genesis 4:6 & 7 seemed to jump out at me. I'd spent awhile prior to picking up the bible just talking to God and by the time I was finished, my heart could not have been laid more bare. It was then that God told me to read His word.

I started in chapter 4 and wasn't very many verses in before God showed me what He was wanting me to see. Chapter 4 verses 6 and 7 reads:
So the LORD said to Cain, “Why are you angry? And why has your countenance fallen? If you do well, will you not be accepted? And if you do not do well, sin lies at the door. And its desire is for you, but you should rule over it.”

There is wholeheartedness: marked by complete earnest commitment : free from all reserve or hesitation.
And halfheartedness: lacking heart, spirit, or interest
There is passionate: capable of, affected by, or expressing intense feeling
And dispassionate: not influenced by strong feeling; especially : not affected by personal or emotional involvement.

If I don't choose to serve God, with my every move, my every action, then sin lies at the door.

I'm not talking about the sudden sins that accidentally occur. The word spoken too quickly, deeds done before thought. I'm talking about premeditated sin. For me, the very act of saying I can go so much over the speed limit without being fined is a sin of my heart.

These feelings are intense and play out in the smallest things. If I'm holding two cups, one filled slightly higher than another, for me the very act of taking the one less full is my way of preferring you. Should I take the "better" one for myself, I have, in essence, chosen not to give you something I deem to be the best. Which means I chose my own pleasure over yours. And putting myself first isn't the example that Christ set up for me to follow.

It's hard to live that way. Not because I'm giving stuff up, because when I do give something up I generally don't even notice it. It only becomes difficult when I take the best for myself and I cannot enjoy it because I know that I've already chosen wrong.
To you this may seem foolishness, but for me it is the only way I can be a living example of a selfless Christ that walked this earth. It is the only way to a truly happy life.

Choosing to obey, keep quiet when tempted to argue, and to choose the best for others over the best for myself, is my way of ruling over sin. In those moments of choice though, I sense sins desire for me. Not only that but I feel my desire for sin, only to realize how truly undesirable it is only mere seconds after I've chosen wrong.

Choosing the hot chocolate with more marshmellows, getting where I'm going 6 minutes faster because I sped, getting 20 minutes more sleep because I ignored whoever was calling, none of it has ever felt worth it. And likely never will.

I hope I do well.

Slowing down and pleasing God

It was 3am in the morning and I was speeding.

I deliberately slowed down from 40mph, to 35mph, but I was in a 30mph zone.

And I did all this, speeding down the road, next to two police cruisers.

Fortunately for me, they were too interested in a poor red sports car that I discovered later that they believed to have drugs in it. That's how I was able to break the law, right next to law enforcement, with no consequence.
I got lucky.

I even exchanged some quick comments the other day with someone about how "technically" you're able to go at least 3 mph over the speed limit without ever getting stopped.

The police will probably never fault me for going 3 mph over the speed limit.
But what will God do?
There are probably a thousand small things that I can do, and get away with. But I don't want to get to Heaven having done the bare minimum to get in.

Since this new year has begun, I've been focusing a lot of pleasing God. So many things in my life I have done to please others, or to keep someone from being displeased with me. And now suddenly I'm looking to find specific ways to please God.
And as I read, and learn more about the subject, I find myself thinking of all the small things that I do just because you can get away with it.
3mph might not mean much, but even 1 mph indicates that I don't have an absolute and profound respect for the governments authority over me.
I believe submitting to others, is more about submitting to God than the other authority.

So many of the little things, little wrong things, we do just aren't important. But still I do them. Though hopefully, I will quickly and thoroughly begin to root out those "small" things and call them the sins that they are.
I want to be pleasing to God. I want God to be pleased, and I want to be the one that gave Him pleasure.
I hate going 30mph, but I hate disappointing God more.

Clocks clocks clocks

Every year at least one person in my family asks what I'd like for Christmas. Generally I don't know myself. But I still rarely tell people, even if I do know, because I hate the very idea of passing out a shopping list.

This year was different. Early on in the season, I informed my family of two simple wishes.
A Clock
And an iron.

I've had an ironing board stored in my house for the past 4 years... yet have never owned an iron.
My living room has a digital clock that was virtually impossible to read from any position except standing up directly in front of it. So I asked for a wall clock.

Two days before Christmas, a friend presented me with a huge clock for my wall.
Christmas day, my brother presented me with the initially requested clock.
Yesterday I found out that I had won a game that I'd played Sunday, and thus won... a clock.

Interestingly enough, of all the games played Sunday, and all the winners announced, each winner won a mug. Except me. I won a clock.

Gods word says you ask not because you have not.

I've asked for a bunk bet, found it at an amazing price - the very exact bunk bed I pictured when I closed my eyes.
I've asked for a crib, again found at nearly a third the price wal-mart would have charged, and the nicest one I could imagine owning.
I asked for a clock and got three.
I'm officially out of room for clocks at my house.

The bible talks about how He'll open the windows of heaven, how He'll supply all our needs, and how He'll do immeasurably more than we could ask or imagine.

Each of the specific things I've listed may seem small and foolish to you, but they became important to me. Not in the sense that I would be unhappy should I not get them, but in the sense that, as I received each one it specifically spoke Gods love to me.

As I sit and think about all the changes that will soon be happening, I cannot tell you how tightly I hold on to the fact that the same God that cared about a need as foolish as a bunk bed, will be that same, personally involved God when I find myself in a dark place, a dark time.

It's incredibly hard to think of God as personal. It's hard to imagine He's watching over people and giving them words to say. It's hard to imagine He's giving people flat tires, just so they won't be on the interstate when the semi flips over. It's hard to imagine that He loves, just like you want to be loved, except better.

But He does.

Happy New Year

I'm 25 yrs old, and single. I've never been married and have no interest to be married.

And with that "experience" under my belt, I got into a debate in Sunday School with two ladies, twice my age that have been married, divorced, and one of them remarried. The debate? How submissive you should be to your husband.

Towards the end of the lesson we ended up going down a seemingly unimportant rabbit trail, when the teacher of the class said something that made me think it was somehow ok to speak. I try and stay quiet in church and class just because it's a lot harder to get in trouble for what you didn't say. But yesterday, for some reason, I started talking.

I tactfully started my words with something like "I don't agree with that at all." Sometimes I even amaze myself with how foolish I can be.

At the end of the class everyone still seemed to like me, but I've been in churches long enough to know that we often put on a very good show of things. I can only apologize for my attitude and try again.

It could be that God is just trying to show my how very badly I need to become humble. As I look back over the arrogance of my words to women I highly respect and from whom I have so very much to learn, I feel like a child again. Of all the things I desire my words to be, ignorant or thoughtless isn't one of them.

The fact that we've started a new year means very little to me this year. My hopes aren't that this coming year will see me becoming a better Christian, a wiser more mature follower of Christ. No. My hope is that the next hour will see me become those things. The next day. The next week. For if I take care of this hour, the year will be taken care of as well.


But when that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall be done away.
When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things. For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.
And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity.. 1 Corinthians 13:10-13

Mundane things.

God speaks.

More than likely, sometime, somewhere, whether you're a Christian or not, you've heard those words. God speaks.

I was writing out some bills this morning and with the start of the new year looming I decided to raise my rent. It might seem like an odd thing to do, but my rent is obscenely low, and property taxes are obscenely high (and rose even higher this last year), and so I decided it was only fair for me to pay more in rent.

I had a specific number in mind, but suddenly paused and prayed about it, asking God for a number that would be good - in case mine wasn't - and sure enough, He gave me a new number. His number was a bit deceptive in that if my parents (the landlords) don't pay close attention to the check, they might not notice immediately that something has changed. So I carried on and finished writing out that check with my new number.

The very next check I started to write was for my church. My tithe check. As the words I was writing on the check rolled through my head my pen paused as a new number rolled through rather than my normal tithe amount. I stopped writing and immediately sat quietly for a bit wondering if, indeed, my mind was just playing tricks with me. My mind questioned it and immediately I knew it was not just a strange trick, so I finished writing the check, with the new number, and moved on with life.

Are you a little bored with my story yet? Surely so, as stories about someone paying bills cannot be too interesting. The story wasn't even interesting to me until I began thinking more closely about what had happened.

The King of Creation, The One to whom every knee will one day bow, The Giver of All Life, The Healer that can raise the dead, make the blind to see, the deaf to hear, and the cancer to vanish, The One whose very name causes the demons to tremble; He was with me as I paid bills.

I wasn't sitting around praying for money to be able to pay my bills. I had more than enough to do that. I wasn't in need of a special miracle. Truth be told I was asking His guidance on how to trick my parents into collecting more money from me. Yet, He was here.

People will tell you He's always there, He's always listening, He'll always answer, but it never really feels that way unless you're doing something wrong. And while so many times I know He's there, I just fail to act like He's there. But as powerful and huge as He is, I often have to remind myself that He's also the God of the mundane. And He would allow Himself to be the God of the mundane simply because He loves us and wants to be involved in our lives.

So besides being the God whose very hands could hold the sea in the palm of his hand, He's the God that helps me find the right street to turn on.
Besides being the God for whom time has no meaning as He gazes into past, present and future indiscriminately, He's the God that helps me find a much needed item on sale at a price I can afford.
Besides being the God whose counsel is sought by Kings, and Sheiks, Lords, and Presidents, He's the God that used a friend to get me to try a vitamin He knew would practically cure the problems with my hands.

So while I believe a miracle happened today, I don't believe it was that God gave me a number to use. But only that I thought to ask.

Gods Daily Resolution

In my regular reading of blogs I've noticed a sudden common theme among almost each blog I've visited: New Years Resolutions.

I don't have any.

As I started contemplating what they would be I started thinking about what God would have them be. But as I started thinking about that I realized, happily so, that God wouldn't wait until January 1st to start changing something about me.

He didn't wait to give me the Holy Ghost until the fresh start of a new year. He wouldn't even wait until Monday - a fresh new week - to start changing my attitude about something.
For God, change starts immediately. There is no reason to wait, and only regrets to hold onto if you do wait. So, in an ongoing effort to be more like Him, I'm not waiting either.

I hope, and I pray, that each day I wake up holding onto the resolution that I would be more like Him. That very resolution changes so much about me. It requires me to be more patient, a better listener, and would require me to grow in faith and understanding. It demands I be more loving and more considerate, more selfless and more passionate. It requires I be the most faithful steward I can be with my money, and the most generous giver with not just my money, but my time as well.

It means daily guarding against forming opinions about people based on rumors, gossip, and other peoples opinions. And on the flip side to that, it means being a master of my tongue so that if I influence opinions with my words it would only be for the good.

Harder still, this daily resolution to be more like Christ means that I can not hold onto grudges, past hurts, unforgiveness and bitterness.

It means living a life changing life and I can't waste a single day.

What to do

Something happened last week to quite literally make me push my chair from my desk and take a deep breath. And I have little doubt in my mind that had you been sitting where I was sitting you might have done the very same. I was shocked, saddened, and suspicious all at the same time. Before I tell you what happened let me give you a little bit of background.

I'm a member over at www.adoption.com They have a ton of forums, including Foster Parent forums by state. I spend most of my time at their site reading through Texas Foster Parent posts. So far it's been a great resource to find out what my home study would be like, how long the finger printing process should have taken and some of the scary/wonderful things that other foster parents have been through. It's a good place.

They have a feature that allows you to send a single user a private message rather than always having to talk publicly in the forum. Once a user found out about my CASA experience I received several private messages asking questions about CASA.

Well, I received an e-mail last week saying I had a private message and so I went to their site to view it. It was from someone claiming to be a 14 yr old girl and she, most simply put, asked me to adopt her.

After I got over the initial surprise I asked around and apparently this wasn't a common thing to happen. But, it reminded me of the many times I have been told that once a foster child is eligible for adoption that they'll often ask if you'll adopt them so they can stay where they are. So this might have been my first time being asked to adopt someone, but it probably won't be my last.

I remember during my home study the investigator asked question after question trying to figure out what I would do in certain situations. So often my first answer was simply a fervent "PRAY". She was stubborn and wanted another answer also but if this experience is any example, prayer is going to be a constant and necessary thing.

Every situation, every time.

I do not understand

I was thanked the other day.

I'd done a small thing, not even by myself, but simply helped someone to do something and was later thanked. When I remarked that what I'd done was so very small, they indicated I was being thanked for something else entirely and believed I knew what they were talking about. By the time I got back to my car I realized that I really didn't know what they were talking about. My contributions to anything this person would notice are so small they are almost inconsequential. So if I'm not being thanked for that, what am I being thanked for?

And that started a whole list of things.

As I was trying to understand someones very sincere gratitude, I realized there are so many things that I don't understand.

I don't understand how people can sit down during a worship service.

I don't understand why one of our church ladies persists in kissing my neck rather than my cheek. I've seriously wondered if one day I will have to explain why I have lipstick on my neck.

I don't understand how every person in the world is not wholly addicted to Sonic's lemon berry slush.
Honestly.

I don't understand how I got so blinded by doing the "best" thing that I did it anyway despite making someone feel badly.

I don't understand how supposed Christians can not desire God.

Unfortunately, I've also never understood which blinker I should use if I'm merging right but turning left.

Life's full of things I might never understand.
But for once, at least today, I'm happy to be oblivious. I don't have to understand completely.

It's just enough to know that people are sincerely glad to have me around. That even though they sit for a worship service they're still moved enough to stand every once in a while. I'm grateful for the warm hug that just happens to come with an uncomfortable kiss.

I'm also happily grateful for the small pleasures in life that make you literally stop and thank God for taste buds. I'm grateful that I can have confidence in people that even though I'm taking better care of a tray of meat than a friendship, that my friend is still my friend. And I'm grateful that God still moves in the hearts of those that are His own. And nothing can make you desire God more than just a taste of Him.

And my insurance company is grateful, that regardless of which blinker I turn on, I've nearly always gotten to where I'm going safely. :)

Christmas Past

I just didn't get into Christmas this year.

I tried, I really did try. But nothing quite stuck.

Now that it's over, I almost feel let down. And I wonder how Christ feels. It was after all His birthday. I hope someone, somewhere, celebrated it with more gusto than I did. At least for His sake.

But now that it's over I'm trying to figure out what went wrong. Thinking back to some of the things I've said over the past couple of weeks, I realize now that one thing was seriously skewed in my mindset. Never once have I required certain weather conditions for my birthday to feel like my birthday. When my niece or nephews birthday rolls around, it could be snowy, rainy, hot, muggy, it could be a huge impenetrable blanket of fog and it would still feel like their birthday.

It's typical in my family for holidays and birthdays to raise up conflict, and while that elicits a certain amount of dread it's never made me wish away a single holiday or birthday. And even in the midst of conflict, it still feels like whoever's birthday it is.

Somehow, I wasn't able to give Christ that same consideration.
Not this year.

Breath of Heaven

I have traveled many moonless nights

Cold and weary, with a babe inside

And I wonder what I've done

Holy Father you have come

And chosen me now, to carry your son.

I am waiting, in a silent prayer

I am frightened, by the load I bear

In a world as cold as stone

Must I walk this path alone?

Be with me now, be with me now.

Breath of Heaven, hold me together

Be forever near me, breath of Heaven

Breath of Heaven, lighten my darkness

Pour over me your holiness, for you are holy,

Breath of Heaven.

Do you wonder when you watch my face,

If a wiser one should have had my place?

But I offer all I am for the mercy of your plan

Help me be strong, help me be strong,

Help me be strong, help me.

Breath of Heaven, hold me together

Be forever near me, breath of Heaven

Breath of Heaven, lighten my darkness

Pour over me your holiness, for you are holy.

Breath of Heaven, hold me together

Be forever near me, breath of Heaven

Breath of Heaven, lighten my darkness

Pour over me your holiness, for you are holy.

Breath of Heaven,

Breath of Heaven,

Breath of Heaven,

Breath of Heaven...

Relief

Have you ever stubbed your toe really hard?
Smacked your thumb with a hammer?
Shut your hand in the car door?
Banged your head into a low board?

I remember years back watching Home Improvement with Tim Allen, and every time he would go into his basement he'd bang his head on that pipe. He'd grab his head and let out string of (thankfully) unintelligible words while waiting for the pain to wear off.

Whether you've done or not done any of these things, I'm almost certain that everyone reading can equate to holding your breath in pain. The moment the pain lets up you let out air you didn't realize you were holding and you take a breath. You might even take a couple of deep breaths as your shock or surprise at the pain ebbs away.

I caught myself several times last week, doing just that. I wasn't busting my thumb or banging my head. There wasn't any pain involved at all. But there was something in me that was loosening that I'd never realized had tightened so very tight. It's simply one of those things where you walk around thinking you're alright until one day something changes and you find yourself wondering how you could have walked around like this so very long.

God is too easy to slip away from. I'm so good at holding people at arms length that I forget my relationship with God should be anything BUT that. As I distance myself further and further from God there is all the more room for things to stand in between me and God. Whether it's family or work, or health. Until one day I realize my only glimpses of God are what's available between the gaps of the mountains in my life. And that's just not good enough.

And thank God it doesn't have to be. It can be so much better. So much richer. So much deeper. So very wonderful.

So today, I can only say this: I'm sorry God. I'm sorry that I need reminders to talk to you. I'm sorry I wait too long and forget the depths of Your love for me when I talk to You. I'm sorry for every time I've talked to You professionally and courteously and failed to talk to You, a very personal God, in a very personal way.

And to you, my friends, my family, and any that wander to this post today: I pray you become passionate. Passionate enough to love God wholeheartedly with utter disregard to the worlds standards of love. Passionate enough to do whatever it takes to get as close to Him as you possibly can. Passionate enough that nothing could possibly keep you from Him.

A heart of grace

Last week during our bible reading program we were reading in Colossians where Paul says:
"Walk in wisdom toward them that are without, redeeming the time. Let your speech be always with grace, seasoned with salt, that ye may know how ye ought to answer every man. " Colossians 4:5 & 6
I remarked after the reading about what a good verse I thought that was. Fortunately since the reading is online they couldn't see me beating my head on the table declaring it to be very nearly impossible for me.
I looked up the word grace and was even more disheartened to read all the lovely words they were able to use to describe grace.
Grace: that which affords joy, pleasure, delight, sweetness, charm, loveliness: grace of speech

This is one thing no one will ever accuse me of. Yet, the bible wants me to speak words that afford joy, pleasure, delight, sweetness, charm, loveliness.
It's a wonderful thing that I serve the God of the impossible.
As I pondered over the words of the verse and the challenge they are to me, I remembered yet another verse that tells me that it's out of the abundance of my heart that I speak. So if I'm mostly concerned about the words then I'm just treating a symptom and not the root. If I develop a heart of grace, the words will flow as naturally as my sarcasm does now. What an honor it would be to be known as someone whose words were filled with joy, pleasure, delight, sweetness, charm and loveliness.

But more than that, how peaceful would it be to have a heart that flowed with those same qualities.

As I turned to the One who seems to have such high expectations of me I could only tell Him that while I understand how He wants me to act, I don't know how to get there on my own. I will never be glorified for the way I act or words I've said. But, if He works in me long enough, and hard enough, He might just end up glorified, and I might be filled with pleasure and delight to be, in my Saviors eyes, a vessel of honor.

Sticky hands

Thank you Lord for sticky hands,
and purple kool-aid grins.
Thank you Lord for extra laundry, and stains I can't get out.
Thank you Lord for giggles and laughs, and cries and shouts.
Thank you Lord for smudges of dirt on smiling cheeks, and ketchup on my rug.
But most of all Lord, Thanks so much for the sticky hands wrapped around me in a precious goodnight hug.

My Friend

There's a song out whose verses speak of all the mighty things that God has done, then the last two lines declare that "A greater wonder brings me to my knees". The chorus then goes on to say that I praise God because of who He is and not because of all the mighty things He's done...

So often I find myself looking at my relationship with God wondering if it's actually true. If He was just a really great person that loved me but had no power... would I love Him this much? I have a hard time praying for others simply because He's done so much, and He's still doing so much, it's hard for me to ask for that little bit extra. Whether my words of love and thankfulness come before or after my request I can't get over the feeling that He'll scorn my words as a sick trick to manipulate Him into doing what I ask.

I don't believe I'm trying to manipulate Him, but I've seen the selfishness and wickedness of my own heart so I wouldn't put it past me. And even if the words are true, the timing of my words of love attached to your petition seem suspicious to me. Even if I try and separate the two, it feels as though I'm just trying to pad my account with God so I can get what I want later.

If you learn one thing about me from my blog, learn this, I over analyze everything.

I had nearly an hour of waiting around my church for someone yesterday and so as I paced the church trying to figure out the answers, and a way through this over-thought problem I realized that I'd lost something.

I'd lost the very thing that made my relationship with God special; the ability to tell God anything and everything at anytime.

Five years ago this January I moved into my home and I made the conscious decision to talk to God. Period. I was mad at Him at the time and had nothing good to say to Him, but I was determined to talk. And that very talking changed my life.

I don't know when I quit talking. Oh, I still talk to Him, but it was nothing like what I was doing before. I can pray, I know the right words for prayer. And that's what I've been doing for awhile... praying. I equate the word prayer with a hands-off religious type ritual. Talking though... Talking was like, talking to my best friend. I could explain the depths of my desires, ask about the things I don't understand, and somewhere in there my petitions for those I love and my declarations of love for my Friend and Savior always found their way in.

By the time the person I was waiting for arrived, I'd found the closeness of a relationship that I'd allowed to become far too distant. I'm so glad. I'm so relieved. It's easy to slip away and you forget how important some things in your relationships are until you've grasped them again wondering how you could have possible gone without this.

I don't want to forget this reminder. And I'm thinking I'll post a sticky note somewhere in my office so I won't forget again. Remembering my key to a good relationship with God is much like remembering where I put the key to my house. I can't get in without it, and it's where I'll go to rest.

A good post

This is a post from Keith Brenton over at Blog In My Own Eye. For me, it gave me a new perspective on this season. I'm giving you just a small portion of it, so go here to read the rest of it. It's worth the time.


He came to encourage us to give that last mite in the temple treasury; to give without expecting to receive in return; to give of ourselves lavishly and extravagantly to people we barely know, or don't know at all. He came to ask us to sell our possessions and give to the poor, with no expectation that we could ever redistribute so evenly that there would never again be the poor.

Matchless grace

I remember vividly the day I told my current church family that I was seeking the Holy Spirit.

Somewhere in the chorus of all the praying, my pastor asked me to raise my hands. Immediately a faithful and kind woman supported me by holding up one of my hands.

For me, those very actions were like the ripple effect of a tiny pebble on a pond.

Immediately I was panicked. I can't tell you the specifics of why, but I've rarely been able to raise my hands like that. If you ever read or hear that I died during a bank robbery it's probably because I couldn't make myself "stick 'em up". If you see me with my hands raised at church, it's only because of the Spirit enabling me.

In this situation I felt imprisoned, by a very kind and quiet lady who had no idea that my sudden intense emotions were anything but the normal actions of someone seeking the Holy Spirit.

After she had released my hand I tried desperately to pull myself together. I can understand rational problems, but I have very little tolerance for irrational problems in my life. Freaking out because someones holding your hand up is definitely in the irrational category.

With my arm finally freed I wrapped my arms around myself as a flood of unwanted emotions seemed to run away with me. As I tried to wait them out an almost overwhelming chorus of thoughts began colliding in my head. 'I was worthless', 'my church family didn't want me there', 'I cause trouble everywhere I go it's only a matter of time before I cause trouble here' and a thousand different reasons why I would never be filled with the Spirit and why I shouldn't have told my church family that I was seeking it and how they'd all be disappointed. While everyone else was praying I'd receive the Holy Spirit, I was begging God to please just make this horrible cadence of thoughts stop. It's hard to describe, but I literally could not think another thought but those and the mad scramble of those horrible thoughts literally made me walk out of the building.

I can only imagine what they were thinking as the person they're praying for just walks out. I don't even know what I would be thinking if someone I was praying for did that. It's definitely not a shining moment in my life and this will be one of the few posts that I might not end up having the courage to post.

In case you're wondering, I was only gone about 5 minutes and I did come back.

With all that said, feel free to join me as I take a long deep breath, exhale slowly and totally shift my focus.

I was writing to a friend yesterday about the grace of God in my life. God's grace in my life; His amazing grace that has covered my past, my present, and leads me into a grace-filled future is well worth meditating on. Too often I stop meditating and simply forget. And when I forget it's harder and harder to fight when my enemy challenges my very right to exist.

Nothing has any value, whether silver, gold, jewels, computers, ipods, mp3 players, Xboxes or sports cars. Nothing. Except to the person that knows how to use it. Someone that has a plan for it. At the hands of this world I have no value. I will be used as nothing less or more than a worker bee for all the days that I'm able. Then, more than likely, I will live off a holed away pocket of money until finally I die and someone sticks me in the ground.

Solomon had it right when he adamantly declared all things to be vanity.

But, there is a Father that purchased me by sending His Son, a part of the God-head, to be brutally beaten and murdered; a Friend that at the beginning of the world made provisions so that I might be able to live in Him, know Him, that I might know life and know it more abundantly; and a Saviour that purchased my life at such a high cost because He knew exactly how He planned to use it. Under the hand of that powerful and loving a King my life has a value that is beyond my comprehension. He can and does draw anyone He pleases, and He chose to draw me.

The King of the universe chose me.

I don't understand how I can forget such a thing. In a marriage it seems like there should be a very special feeling of knowing that your spouse has chosen you, they looked at you and decided they wanted to spend the rest of their life with you. God chose me; He chose me. He has a plan for my life. And just like it was promised in Jeremiah, He's given me a hope and a future.


I know the cure for my 'less than shining moments'. I just tend to remember the cure after I've gone through the torment of fear and doubt. What must God think as He offers me royal robes and I stubbornly don my rags? How many times will He see an empty place at His feasting table while I gather crumbs? There is so much He's offered me that I'm just simply blind to or don't comprehend how to reach out and take it. It seems as though the simpler the answer is, the harder it is for me to grasp. Accepting God's gifts never needs to be difficult.

He's offered me so much.
I have so much to be grateful for.
I'm so very grateful, that there is One that by seeing value in me gave me value.
Father, Friend, Savior, help me live up to Your estimation of me.

What other desire should any creation have, but to live up to the expectations of the Creator?

Uhum uhum uhum

3 days can tell you a lot of things about a lot of things.

For 3 days I've spoken as absolutely little as possible. And it's just amazing how people respond to that. Mostly they talk more. I've also been called more endearments the last three days than ever before. Inappropiate endearments though since "baby" isn't a good thing to call the lady considering you for a job. But it just simply wasn't worth correcting at the time.

I got a crazy sore throat that made swallowing nearly impossible and talking one of the most painful activities I've endured for awhile. Granted, bear in mind that I don't get myself injured too often and there are a lot of worse things than a sore throat.

I haven't eaten or had anything to drink since Monday. Today, things have eased up enough that I went in search of something cold to hopefully help things along. After Sonic tried to charge me a dollar and a half for a cup of ice I quickly remembered the joy of a Wendy's .99cent frosty. That satisfied my sense of right/wrong far better than a $1.50 for a cup of frozen water so I went with that.

An hour later I sit here, still very quiet, but very sincerely thanking God for the invention of ice cream. Almost sick-free is very nearly as good as sick-free after you've experienced sick. I rarely get sick, and when I do it's almost always a doozy. Last time nearly a year ago I spent 4 days running a 104/105 temperature. My parents actually visited me. They brought water. Family is nice sometimes. Always interesting at least.

I've also marvelled at the human body's ability to fall into a state called "sleep". It may seem insane to anyone else but me, but to be able to lay down and slip into a world where you don't hurt anymore, be it only for an hour or two, absolutely amazes me.

Just a touch of this itty bitty germ, reminds me of the compassion to be felt for those that suffer regularly from constant ailments. I can't imagine spending every day fighting a bad back, cancer, or a thousand other things just beat a person down, whether with pain or just the constant maneuvering your life around to deal with it.

My understanding of such things is limited to some of my own experiences, and thankfully those have been few. But I hope that at least through God's wisdom and understanding I might be able to gain some understanding.... though... I've always been ok with crossing my fingers and hoping something I say works out for the comfort. And when I'm entirely not sure I simply resort back to the trick that's worked so well the last three days. A quiet nod and lots of uh huming.

It's all going to be okay.

My dad invited me to lunch yesterday.

I think the last time we ate together, alone, was 14 years ago.

It's amazing how two people can sit right next to each other and not really say anything. We talked about a lot of important things, but they were all technical things. He even began each new topic with the number it was on his list of things to talk about. Not that there was anything wrong with that, it was just a reminder that we weren't talking as friends.

We're all concerned about my mom who seems to be going far too quickly. And we're concerned about him having surgery possibly this month, and how his being in the hospital for a week will affect mom. He's also concerned about a constant legal battle he's fighting over the land my house sits on.

All in all, it was a heavy meal.

The thing that always surprises me is, even listening to things that are of great importance, and great sorrow, there's the underlying and constant assurance, at least in these areas, that everything is going to be alright.

I can't tell you why, I can't tell you how, and I can't tell you that "alright" means it turned out the exact way I wanted it to. But it will be alright.

I've watched my friend, and my co-worker, Lisa, struggle through so many things. I've watched her fight legal battles, emotional battles, I've seen her suck it up when her own dad had alzheimers and finally passed away. I can tell you beyond a shadow of a doubt that the "it's going to be alright" does not transfer itself to everyone -especially those that don't know God - during rough times.

There's just a peace that comes from knowing that God is in charge.

I don't mean to sound sacrilegious or ungrateful, but doing what God wants you to do, with no reassurance that you're going to do it well or right, is downright frustrating. Frustrating and scary.

I've thought back to the thorn that Paul had in his side, and how God said it was to be used to display that in Pauls weakness He was strong. There's no doubt in my mind that I, Jeanette, am destined to be a horrible foster parent. But I'm trusting, that without fail, when my weakness at parenting appears, His strength in parenting will take over. He will lead and guide and I'm just going to be along for the ride.

Cause let me tell you, if I'm driving... we're in a whole mess of trouble.

Impossibilities

"So many of our dreams at first seem impossible, then they seem improbable, and then, when we summon the will, they soon become inevitable." - Unknown

"To believe in God is impossible - to not believe in Him is absurd" - Voltaire

"We turn toward God only to obtain the impossible." - Albert Camus

Two ill-fated children

T'is so sweet to trust in Jesus
Just to take Him at His word
Just to rest upon His promise
Just to know thus saith the Lord.



Once I've gotten past my initial knee-jerk reaction I will probably change my mind. But I'm telling you right now, I'm two seconds from yelling "hogwash" at the idea that trusting is sweet.

When an army is chasing you and God's plan seemed to be to march you into the sea, trusting seems anything but sweet.
When you're in a crowd of over a hundred thousand hungry people, and someone informs you that your source of food is going to just... fall from the sky tomorrow, trusting seems anything but sweet.
When you're about to battle a people too great to number and God chops your army down to 300 men, trusting seems anything but sweet.

And sweet or petrifying, the only reason you would dare to do as God says to do is only because God says to.
I'm not above trying to convince God that He's most obviously got the wrong person.

I spent Saturday and Sunday proving in my own strength I stink, absolutely stink at caring for children. Two poor little girls were knocked over, and had their little toes stepped on more times than I can count. It was like having a new pet that is always right behind your foot.
I turned the children over to their parents after 24 hrs of "care" and sat down right then and there and informed God that he had the wrong person. If I didn't know, beyond a shadow of a doubt that this was His plan I would have literally called my worker at the agency and put a stop to the whole thing. I would have called them the very moment the children left.

The giants in my life may be 4 foot tall. But I can barely swallow for fear.

Here's the only good part.

Other than an almost constant cadence in my head reminding Him to equip those that He's called, there is no question as to whether or not this is going to happen.
For all the fear, for all the ways I know I'm going to struggle in this, I am more grateful than I can tell you that I am confident in God. There are so many things I think about God, and so few things I know about God. I'm just so glad He made sure I knew this.

My home has been studied.

I wish I had some really poignant words to say to document this occasion.
But I don't. I've said more words today than I think I've said all month long, and maybe combined with all next month. I've just finished four hours of questioning.
I have completed my home study.
I have nothing more to do except wait for the call saying that I am approved of and a time arranged for me to go there and be licensed.
Licensed to raise someone elses child.
I can't even fathom.

Specific prayers

One of the things I like most about this blog, is not reading todays posts, but reading posts from a year ago. I like to see the things I struggled with, or that got me through something or changed the way I thought about something. I enjoy that part.

So, I'm posting this because I'm hoping one day I'll be able to look back and see a month after this post, I posted the answer to this prayer.

I need something.

I've put myself into a position where I am responsible for doing two things at the exact same time at church. Unless God raises up a person to do this second task, I just simply wouldn't be able to do my original task, which is to play the piano for the worship service.

I can't do both tasks at the same time, and quite frankly I refuse to be satisfied with having to ask a random person that just happens to be "there" to take care of the second task. I want better than that. I want better than that not just for myself, but for the church, and for the sake of having the task done right, and to the best it can be done.

I'm not at a decision point yet, but I'm praying. Our church has so many needs, it seems selfish to focus so intensely on the one need that concerns me most. But, our church needs a piano player too. I can't even imagine walking away from that in order to fill the second role, but if I have to I will.

So I post this to the public. Look at it. Read it. I'll tell you the specifics of my request as soon as I am able to post that the prayer has been answered and the need provided for. God doesn't leave anything undone. If He wants a job done, He'll provide workers for it. I believe that, and I'm trusting and praying in that.

I pray for so many things. Mostly I pray for God's will to be done quite simply because I know I can spend a lot of time praying for a specific thing to be done the specific way that I think it should be done. Usually I find out later that God didn't have that in mind at all, His way wasn't my way, His thought wasn't my thought. So you will rarely hear me say I'm asking God for xyz and He's going to provide xyz.

But this time is different.

So I ask you, if you're saved or not saved, watch this blog for the next 2 months. I tell you this with confidence, because I believe you will read very shortly of God answering a very specific prayer in a very specific way.

To the baby in the manger

You're so small, and so tiny, and delicate. You can't even lift your head. How can I expect you to save the world?

I can't imagine you on a cross, can't imagine you creating the world, can't imagine your clear eyes having seen the depths of hell. I can't imagine confessing the horrible sins of my heart to someone so innocent and pure as you. I shudder to imagine tiny baby fingers curled into a fist, this precious hand, one day being marred by a spike.

The world thinks things of your mother that you should never hear said.

I just want to tell you I'm sorry.

I'm sorry for every pain you'll endure for my sake. I'm sorry for the things you'll see me do, or hear me say that will make you wonder if we're actually part of the same family, or ashamed that you are. I'm sorry for all the times I'm going to forget your birthday. I'm sorry for all the times I'll celebrate doing the things I've made a habit, rather than asking you what you'd like planned for the day like I would any other family member.

I'm sorry for all the meaningless things in my life. From meaningless gifts chosen, to meaningless places gone, and trivial things spoken.

Imagining your tiny childish face makes me want to be a better person. It makes me hope for even just one less sin committed that you would bear on your shoulders one day. One day you will stumble under the weight of a cross, carrying my guilt and shame. As I picture a stable and cows and imagine the smells of your birthplace, it almost hurts to wish this hard that my life, should it be well lived, could ease your burden.

Unjumbled

I can't tell you how pleasant it is for me to read something I've written and reach the end of it feeling satisfied.

It takes a lot of tweaking sometimes, and often a post you read yesterday, if you went back and read it today you'd find that a few things about it had changed. I tweak even after you've read it. I want it to be right and I usually keep on tweaking until I can read it all the way through without something bothering me.
I wouldn't call myself a writer at all, but this part of me has become important and almost vital. This blog has been an outlet for the best and worst of me. I'm glad I started this.

Through this, I've seen specific ways this is a gift and responsibility from God. I've got a few drafts of posts that never made it to finish, and some horrible topics that never made it to light either. And sometimes, when I didn't have anything good to say, God made sure I wasn't able to say it at all. You would think a person that likes to write could write anything, anytime, anywhere... but so often my brain has sat murking around with a wordless tumble of thoughts that couldn't exactly be translated into writing.

That's what happened yesterday.

I spent the weekend thinking so much that by the time Monday came, it was too jumbled to be coherent. This is going to be my best attempt to unjumble things and write once again.

I realized this weekend how much we take family for granted. We have expectations of family that changes our appreciation of the good things they do for us. And those of us with a lot of family don't appreciate each member of the family as much as we should.
And while I am the last person, the very last person, that should dare to give advice on family relationships here's what I want to tell you.



Love your family. Wholly and completely. Don't love them quietly or expect them to understand your love. Explain it in the same clear and uncertain terms that God, with deliberate intent, explained His. Remember that you have never been guaranteed tomorrow. Some of the most painful regrets concern words not said.

Say you're sorry. Say it even if you're not sure you've offended. Say it every time, and often. Give thought to your words before you say them. It bears repeating again, give thought to your words before you say them. Love your family.

Don't be offended. I don't care what they said. I don't care if it sounded like they were talking about you. I don't care if they even used your name when whatever was said was said. Unless they're saying you robbed the local 7-11, let it go and don't be offended.

That said, your fear of rejection or worse, indifference will tempt you to love your family quietly. Your fears will convince you, with surprising vehemence, that your family knows the depth of your love. Fear lies.

Your pride will convince you, that love means never having to say you're sorry. It will inform you that you were entitled to say whatever you said, or do whatever you did. It will tell you to never apologize for the truth. Pride will rob you of your friends and family.

Your emotions will convince you that no one loves you. It will remind you of every hurtful thing past and present. Your emotions will hear things that weren't said, and interpret tones that weren't intended. It will tell you things unsaid, or undone are out of spite or vengeance. Your emotions will kill no one else but you. Nothing destroys the body quite like a running commentary of hurt and bitterness.

There will be moments when it's difficult or next to impossible to do any of those things. And that is when you go to your Counselor. You head to the One that loves you. The One that loves you perfectly. The One that loves you in all the ways you fail at loving. You confess your fear, your pride, and your emotions. You pour out the worst of you to a Savior that sees the best in you despite your flaws. You give Him your disappointments and your hurts, your dreams and desires, and the worries you dare not speak to anyone else. And once you've picked yourself back up, you start all over again.

Then, with all that done, be one of those people that treats everyone like family.

Oh to be foolish

I'm sitting here staring at this crazy looking toy. The only difference between mine and the one pictured is that mine is green, and the nose lights up yellow. Looking at him, I quite literally can't help but smile. His name is iZ by the way.

Do you have an iZ in your life? Some foolish thing that brightens your day, has the power to change your mood, and best yet, something about which you have no complaints?

It seems like the majority of the words I hear are complaints. I've wondered if I've just got a bad attitude and that's why my ears are picking up on those words, and focusing on them, rather than all the good words I'm sure I hear each day also. So, that's how I ended up sitting here staring at Mr. iZ

Mr. iZ has taken up residence on my desk, as a constant reminder for me to stop complaining. So many can complain about the weather or time or money or a hundred other things. Mr. iZ reminds me to watch my language. God has created all things, and anything that has happened, ultimately it's because God allowed it. For friends that I highly respect, I don't complain about the petty stuff. Often, between friends no one even complains about the important stuff. For the God of the universe, I believe I can take that even a step further.

Mr. iZ represents utter foolishness to me. And God promised me that's what our Christian walk is all about. Because His method of saving me was foolishness. To this day it confounds the wise. Intellectuals everywhere ridicule my faith. Scientists accept even crazier lies to combat it. But ultimately, everyone will accept it as truth. And, for the time being, Mr. iZ will remain on my desk as a reminder.