When you waddle around in life 37.5 weeks pregnant, you BEG to be asked that one loaded question, "Are you ready?" It is asked of me multiple times a day, every.single.day. I know that people are being cordial and conversational, but I've run out of interesting responses.
Top three:
"...I think so..."
"...we'll find out..."
and,
"...not really."
But today in the shower, I really started thinking about it. I mean, if all goes as planned, this is Grand Finale Grove. I will never (Lord-willing) never carry life within me again. (My cup overfloweth!) So, I'm rethinking my various answers to that oh-so-loaded question:
Are you ready...
...to no longer carry an additionally 40lbs around? HECK YES! Just ask my feet.
...to never again feel that indescribable feeling of life moving within me? No. It's quite possibly the coolest experience ever.
...to see The Boy and The Girl walk into the hospital room to meet their new sibling? No, not at all. They'll immediately both look 75% bigger, and 3 years older, and I just can't handle that.
... to have more than 6 wardrobe items that I fit in to? Yes, yes, yes. I simply cannot find one more way to accessorize and make them look different. I'm so bored with my options, and too cheap to do anything about it.
... to not fit into anything properly for the next 6 months? No, ugh. Talk about depressing. Maternity clothes are too big. Normal clothes are abnormally small. Bring on the yoga pants... and the treadmill.
...to no longer have an excuse for eating crap-ola beyond any reasonable hour? No, I'm going to miss the special time spent in the evenings with The Hubby, Ken Burns, and some Cinnamon Toast Crunch. Seriously, there's no reasonable excuse for eating that stuff at any other time in my life.
...to not get up and potty fives times a night? Oh yes, I cannot wait to sleep through the night again... oh wait...
...to get up fives times a night to nurse a baby/change a diaper/make sure my child hasn't died of SIDS? No. No. No, not at all.
... to find out if it's a boy or a girl? I'm pumped, but not nearly as pumped as I thought I'd be. I really have no preference one way or the other. I just want to have a healthy baby and simple delivery. I think the not knowing will just be a huge motivating factor when it comes time to push.
... to juggle life with three kids? Not at all ready. I'm OCD. I plan. I like a clean house. None of these things goes along with a newborn, a 2.5 year old and a 5 year old. Praying for lots of Grace!
... to sleep on my stomach again? YES. Oh I cannot WAIT to sleep on my stomach again. I'm pretty sure The Hubby can't wait either... I've been accused of snoring for the first time in 8 years of wedded bliss. How dare he!
...to hold the third piece of worldy evidence of how much The Hubby and I love each other? YES! I cannot wait! Who will he/she look like? Will they have lots of hair? What will their personality be like?
So, Am I ready?
I say, bring it on! This is life. We'll roll with it. We'll figure it out. We'll fail. We'll succeed. We'll survive. We'll thrive. We'll be Carried Along. We'll be exhausted. We'll sleep when we're dead.
12 days.
Showing posts with label prayer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label prayer. Show all posts
Oct 3, 2013
Mar 22, 2013
58: The Film
All I wanted was a simple cake idea. Our Little Buddy is turning two, and I want to incorporate a firetruck into his homemade cake. Where to get quick ideas? Pinterest. Oh. My. Word. Don't get me wrong, I love Pinterest, but my perspective has changed a bit.
It happened on Tuesday.
I love a good documentary. Something well thought. Something low budget. Something with heart and a purpose.
Tuesday night our small group got together and watched "58: The Film" and my world was rocked. (Bonus: It's on Netflix.) We popped popcorn, made cupcakes and poured our delicious drinks-- and within the first 10 minutes no one had an appetite.
"58: The Film" is about a movement to end extreme poverty around the globe, through authentic Christian living, based on Isaiah 58.
In this 72 minute film you see families who live in rock quarries... working to pay a debt that's impossible to repay. You see families of eight who live in shanties... the size of my walk-in closet. You see little girls sold into sex trafficking... so their families can afford to eat.
What I can't understand is that while some kids are left to work in a quarry for the rest of their lives because of their parents desire to put food on the table, we are busy throwing birthday parties for 8-year-olds that cost as much as a mortgage payment! (C'mon, they invited 38 kids!!!)
We (Christians) are so wrapped up in who should be allowed to get married, what gender should be preaching from the pulpit and who has the right to carry weapons, that we've forgotten our mission on this earth. We're distracted.
Point for Satan.
Suddenly, my closet is annoying. My pantry is annoying. The fact that my kids DON'T share a room is annoying. I'm disgusted at my own oblivion.
Point for Jesus.
A few weeks ago I heard an evangelist talk about Western Christians being "spiritually obese." We go to church and feast... we go to Bible Study and feast... we hang out with our Christian friends and feast... but at what point are we going out and exercising our beliefs. How and when are we being the hands and feet of Jesus?
I'm guilty, friends. I'm so, so pathetically guilty. But I'm admitting it, which is the first step towards change.
Ending extreme poverty is not impossible. Changing lives from our small-town Indiana homes is not impossible.
And a simple 9x13 boxed cake mix will be more than enough to celebrate 2 years of God-given JOY.
It happened on Tuesday.
I love a good documentary. Something well thought. Something low budget. Something with heart and a purpose.
Tuesday night our small group got together and watched "58: The Film" and my world was rocked. (Bonus: It's on Netflix.) We popped popcorn, made cupcakes and poured our delicious drinks-- and within the first 10 minutes no one had an appetite.
"58: The Film" is about a movement to end extreme poverty around the globe, through authentic Christian living, based on Isaiah 58.
In this 72 minute film you see families who live in rock quarries... working to pay a debt that's impossible to repay. You see families of eight who live in shanties... the size of my walk-in closet. You see little girls sold into sex trafficking... so their families can afford to eat.
What I can't understand is that while some kids are left to work in a quarry for the rest of their lives because of their parents desire to put food on the table, we are busy throwing birthday parties for 8-year-olds that cost as much as a mortgage payment! (C'mon, they invited 38 kids!!!)
We (Christians) are so wrapped up in who should be allowed to get married, what gender should be preaching from the pulpit and who has the right to carry weapons, that we've forgotten our mission on this earth. We're distracted.
Point for Satan.
Suddenly, my closet is annoying. My pantry is annoying. The fact that my kids DON'T share a room is annoying. I'm disgusted at my own oblivion.
Point for Jesus.
A few weeks ago I heard an evangelist talk about Western Christians being "spiritually obese." We go to church and feast... we go to Bible Study and feast... we hang out with our Christian friends and feast... but at what point are we going out and exercising our beliefs. How and when are we being the hands and feet of Jesus?
I'm guilty, friends. I'm so, so pathetically guilty. But I'm admitting it, which is the first step towards change.
Ending extreme poverty is not impossible. Changing lives from our small-town Indiana homes is not impossible.
And a simple 9x13 boxed cake mix will be more than enough to celebrate 2 years of God-given JOY.
Feb 4, 2013
Perspective
I love birthdays! I love cake... presents... surprises... endless FB love... singing... decor... gathering of friends and family... you know, all the things a good b-day entails!
This morning I started a new b-day ritual. I ran 3.1 miles. (Get it? 3.1 because I'm 31...) It was awesome. I'm still out of shape, but I did it. 400 calories- POOF- gone! (I'm thinking this ritual will be more impressive when I'm 65 and running 6.5 miles, no?)
About 20 minutes into this endeavor, two 70-somethings came in (wearing their jeans?) and hopped on the treadmills on either side of me. And, as I redirected my selfish thoughts ("I'm so much faster than them! Look at me go!"), it occurred to me that they're more than twice my age... and still working out. Instantly, I loved these ladies.
And, since I still had another 20 minutes ofpain running, my mind began to wonder...
10 years ago I celebrated my 21st Birthday. On the one hand, that seems like an eternity ago, and on the other it seems like just yesterday. Either way, I cringe when I think about it. Some of my still very precious friends and I headed to a few of the local establishments (lots of options, thanks to Purdue), and we. got. loaded. There was a book for signatures after drinks... which were being served by the pitcher-full. There was a piano bar. There was dancing. There was fun and laughter. But, oh my word, there was more alcohol than I care to reflect upon. (This is not a judgement upon those who love this lifestyle. I'm just saying, it's not a good fit for me.)
This morning, my almost two-year-old, and my 4.5-year-old sang "Happy Birthday" to me with their Dad. (I might have asked them to stop, grabbed my video recorder, and had them start again.) It was precious. (By the way, who added the "cha-cha-cha" stuff? My kids think it's a riot.) We were all in our jammies, possibly on day 2 without a shower, eating oatmeal and laughing atD someone who toots a lot. Cherish.
My hubby, after a loooooooong night of work, was thoughtful enough to stop and get flowers, a balloon and a card, which I saw on the kitchen table when I woke up this morning. It could have been a bag of M&M's or even a bowl of pre-poured cereal-- the fact is, he remembered and inconvenienced himself to show me even more love than he usually does. (A year ago, he did this for me on my b-day.)
In 10 more years, I will be 41. HOLY SMOKES! God-willing, I will have a 14-year-old, 12-year-old and who knows how many (if any) other kids! My parents will be in their '70s!!! THEY will be the old people on the treadmills!
Woah. Now there's a new perspective.
This morning I started a new b-day ritual. I ran 3.1 miles. (Get it? 3.1 because I'm 31...) It was awesome. I'm still out of shape, but I did it. 400 calories- POOF- gone! (I'm thinking this ritual will be more impressive when I'm 65 and running 6.5 miles, no?)
About 20 minutes into this endeavor, two 70-somethings came in (wearing their jeans?) and hopped on the treadmills on either side of me. And, as I redirected my selfish thoughts ("I'm so much faster than them! Look at me go!"), it occurred to me that they're more than twice my age... and still working out. Instantly, I loved these ladies.
And, since I still had another 20 minutes of
10 years ago I celebrated my 21st Birthday. On the one hand, that seems like an eternity ago, and on the other it seems like just yesterday. Either way, I cringe when I think about it. Some of my still very precious friends and I headed to a few of the local establishments (lots of options, thanks to Purdue), and we. got. loaded. There was a book for signatures after drinks... which were being served by the pitcher-full. There was a piano bar. There was dancing. There was fun and laughter. But, oh my word, there was more alcohol than I care to reflect upon. (This is not a judgement upon those who love this lifestyle. I'm just saying, it's not a good fit for me.)
This morning, my almost two-year-old, and my 4.5-year-old sang "Happy Birthday" to me with their Dad. (I might have asked them to stop, grabbed my video recorder, and had them start again.) It was precious. (By the way, who added the "cha-cha-cha" stuff? My kids think it's a riot.) We were all in our jammies, possibly on day 2 without a shower, eating oatmeal and laughing at
My hubby, after a loooooooong night of work, was thoughtful enough to stop and get flowers, a balloon and a card, which I saw on the kitchen table when I woke up this morning. It could have been a bag of M&M's or even a bowl of pre-poured cereal-- the fact is, he remembered and inconvenienced himself to show me even more love than he usually does. (A year ago, he did this for me on my b-day.)
In 10 more years, I will be 41. HOLY SMOKES! God-willing, I will have a 14-year-old, 12-year-old and who knows how many (if any) other kids! My parents will be in their '70s!!! THEY will be the old people on the treadmills!
Woah. Now there's a new perspective.
Nov 5, 2012
Shaking = Strength
Superman planks. Lunges & bicep curls. Dips. Wall sits... for 60 whole seconds. It didn't seem bad... and then the shaking started... and then Coach Cindy came and sat on my shaking legs.
"C'mon LADIES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Shaking equals strength!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Coach Cindy has a way of saying things that make you want to hug her and punch her at the same time. But what she said this morning had me thinking something all together different.
Shaking = strength.
What makes you shake? This morning, for me, it was wall sits. Physical.
What about mental shakes? Getting ready to tell your children about your cancer diagnosis? Mental.
Stressed over a new job? Emotional.
Running out of steam to fully-commit to the year-long ministry you're engaged in? Spiritual.
This mornings comment by Coach Cindy really had me thinking. (Good thing, because thinking about the burpees you're doing while you're doing them is really awful!)
We must be shaken to show God's strength.
Sitting on the couch watching TV all night? No prob.
Eating every single item offered at the tailgate on Saturday? Gladly.
Going through the entire day without ever hugging your spouse? Easy enough.
GOD LETS US SHAKE NOW AND THEN.
I think of Noah-- probably because we're studying the flood right now in BSF. His neighbors must have thought he was nuts. Hauling huge cypress trees out of the woods with his sons to build a gigantic boat? Nutso. I see physical shakes (heavy trees) and emotional shakes (being made fun of.) Where was his strength? God's promise! (Genesis 6:9-22)
How about little David and Goliath the giant? David had to have some shakin' going on. "What was I thinking?" One. Little. Rock. One BIG God. Strength. (1 Samuel 17: 48-50)
So how is God shaking you? Where are you going for strength? Are you volunteering for every organization on the planet, and yet getting no help of your own? Are you trying to break a bad habit, without asking for help?
2 Corinthians 12:9 "For my power is made perfect in weakness."
He needs us weak, so He can show just how strong He is. We shake, so He can show his strength.
So go on, get out there. Let God shake you up a bit. Then let Him show HIS strength through you... your circumstances, your life, your RESPONSE to Him.
"C'mon LADIES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Shaking equals strength!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Coach Cindy has a way of saying things that make you want to hug her and punch her at the same time. But what she said this morning had me thinking something all together different.
Shaking = strength.
What makes you shake? This morning, for me, it was wall sits. Physical.
What about mental shakes? Getting ready to tell your children about your cancer diagnosis? Mental.
Stressed over a new job? Emotional.
Running out of steam to fully-commit to the year-long ministry you're engaged in? Spiritual.
This mornings comment by Coach Cindy really had me thinking. (Good thing, because thinking about the burpees you're doing while you're doing them is really awful!)
We must be shaken to show God's strength.
Sitting on the couch watching TV all night? No prob.
Eating every single item offered at the tailgate on Saturday? Gladly.
Going through the entire day without ever hugging your spouse? Easy enough.
GOD LETS US SHAKE NOW AND THEN.
I think of Noah-- probably because we're studying the flood right now in BSF. His neighbors must have thought he was nuts. Hauling huge cypress trees out of the woods with his sons to build a gigantic boat? Nutso. I see physical shakes (heavy trees) and emotional shakes (being made fun of.) Where was his strength? God's promise! (Genesis 6:9-22)
How about little David and Goliath the giant? David had to have some shakin' going on. "What was I thinking?" One. Little. Rock. One BIG God. Strength. (1 Samuel 17: 48-50)
So how is God shaking you? Where are you going for strength? Are you volunteering for every organization on the planet, and yet getting no help of your own? Are you trying to break a bad habit, without asking for help?
2 Corinthians 12:9 "For my power is made perfect in weakness."
He needs us weak, so He can show just how strong He is. We shake, so He can show his strength.
So go on, get out there. Let God shake you up a bit. Then let Him show HIS strength through you... your circumstances, your life, your RESPONSE to Him.
Oct 22, 2012
The Recap
"Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize. Everyone who competes in the games goes into strict training. They do it to get a crown that will not last; but we do it to get a crown that will last forever. Therefore I do not run like a man running aimlessly; I do not fight like a man beating the air. No, I beat my body and make it my slave so that after I have preached to others, I myself will not be disqualified for the prize." 1 Corinthians 9:24-27
This weekend I ran the first-ever Purdue Half Marathon, my fourth such endeavor. It was freezing. I crossed the finish line and nearly tossed my cookies (literally, I had just stuffed a Famous Amos in my mouth!) So, as a committed citizen, I feel it necessary to give the organizers some feedback. Here's my $0.02.
Event Organizers- You nailed it. For the "first-ever" I thought most everything went splendidly. Sign-up was easy. Website was informational. Signage along the course was neat and clean. Course was AWESOME! (Okay-- running UP Northwestern for the last mile was slightly death-defying, but I understand why it went that way. And sprinting DOWN the hill to the finish line was just awesome.) Perhaps reconfigure the post-finish line arrangement for next year? A thoroughly equipped water station right away would be stellar, and having the food just a few steps past that would be ideal. But, I get that you had sponsors to recognize, and you did.
Volunteers- Y'all rock. I tried to thank as many of you as I could along the way, but I know I missed many. The fact that you'd give up several hours of your Saturday morning to hand out water (and have it thrown right back in your face), or stop traffic (and take the curses that I'm sure the citizens of Greater Lafayette were spitting out), was super. At one water station I hugged a very drunk banana.
Which leads me to my next thought...
ENGAGE THE STUDENTS! All of the volunteers were awesome, but the students were nuts, and I loved it. They were jumping, clapping, high-fiving, and generally just totally motivating. Perhaps some of the fraternities and sororities need community service hours? Why not some sort of water-station cheer-squad competition? Weaving the course through a campus community of 40,000+ undergrads, there has to be a surplus of volunteers, no?
Citizens of Greater Lafayette- I am sorry. Our course wound all around town, and I'm not sure how well prepared you were. Some of you we're stuck right in the middle. Thank you for your patience... for honking... waving from inside your windows... and even coming out to cheer while you sipped your coffee. I do have to say that The Organizers had signage out all around town several days before the event, but with this being the first time you might not have realized that 2,000+ people were committed.
Team Indianapolis- Can you even believe it? MONTHS ago an idea was born... and by God's Grace and ever-abundant provision, Neelu's needs are being met. May all the glory go to Him! What a privilege to know that there were others out there training, raising money, and Trusting Jesus!
As Our Own- Your organization is awesome. I totally believe it what you're doing, and I'm so thankful for your incredible ministry. I will be praying for you!
Neelu- You are beautiful. You are SO loved. Your dark eyes and bright smile were on the forefront of my mind as I endured some super-hot training runs this summer... and even Saturday at mile 9 when my knees said, "We're done!" I never stopped thinking about you, your mother, and the incredible journey I can imagine that God has you on. Oh the plans He has for YOU! I'm so thankful to be a little-bitty part of it. You can't imagine how much you motivated me!
Mark your calenders: October 19, 2013. Lets do it!
Sep 6, 2012
Good night, and good luck.
And just like that, 6:28 P.M. rolls across the clock and it's over. The day is done, the week is done, and a chapter is done...
Eight and a half years ago, The Hubby started at WSBT-TV as an intern. Tomorrow, he signs off as one of the main anchors for the evening news... a dream of his since he was in 5th grade.
If I had the technological know-how, I'd digitize and then upload the hours upon hours of VHS tapes his parents have of him doing the news from their kitchen table after school. Then again, maybe I wouldn't. (He forced his sister to volunteer to be the weather girl-- complete with a map of Indiana covered in Saran Wrap so she could draw on it-- and she might not want it made public!)
Over the years, I've always chuckled a little bit when people have uttered (without knowing The Hubby's trade) something about the "biased media" or how "the media is this or that." I tried not to let it offend me because I'm also good at stereotyping and blanket statements... but I want to tell you a different side of the news media.
I want to tell you about my Husband... the story teller...
... who agonized when he had to go interview you after your high-school aged son died on the football practice field.
... who covered the funeral of your daughter that was killed after a gun fell out of your pocket, and then sobbed with the photographer in the truck afterwards.
... who knocked on your door to tell the story of your husband that died serving our country.
My Husband, your news guy, carried those stories home with him. They changed him, and they are a large part of his decision to leave the business. As hard as they were, he loved those stories... telling the legacies of those people, those places, those moments... factual, unbiased, real. He cried. He prayed. He held our kids and me a little tighter. Your lives shaped ours, and we are thankful. I am thankful.
As he has been wrapping things up these last few weeks, the emails of encouragement, support and well-wishes have been trickling in. The few he has shared with me have been precious, beautiful, sacred.
In John 15:5, Jesus said, “I am the vine, you are the branches.Whoever remains in me, and I in him, will bear much fruit; for you can do nothing without me.”
I'm hopeful that his viewers and co-workers will remember him this way... as his other childhood dream... a farmer... bearing Fruit, divine fruit.
Did he get angry and lose his temper? Sure! And then he came home and re-thought his actions and words... and how he would or should "right" them.
He wrote cards to so many of the people he interviewed... who let him into their homes, their pain, their joy.
He even stopped by and prayed with interviewees, long after the story was over and the media stopped talking about it.
Dustin- You are nothing short of incredible. You have given it your all for 8 years, and I'm so proud of what you've done. You are so good at telling great stories, and equally humble in accepting accolades. You have enjoyed your co-workers, but never let them settle for being "okay" at what they do... always trying to push the "product" to the next level. You have been in more homes in Michiana than your Realtor wife, and have more loyal followers than you or I will ever really know. I have loved rehashing stories with you... rewriting them, reliving them. You have always been way too hard on yourself. So, sign off tomorrow night, Love, with confidence and joy knowing you've been a very Fruitful Branch.
And, just as Edward R. Murrow said at the end of a broadcast in 1940, "Good night, and good luck."
Eight and a half years ago, The Hubby started at WSBT-TV as an intern. Tomorrow, he signs off as one of the main anchors for the evening news... a dream of his since he was in 5th grade.
If I had the technological know-how, I'd digitize and then upload the hours upon hours of VHS tapes his parents have of him doing the news from their kitchen table after school. Then again, maybe I wouldn't. (He forced his sister to volunteer to be the weather girl-- complete with a map of Indiana covered in Saran Wrap so she could draw on it-- and she might not want it made public!)
Over the years, I've always chuckled a little bit when people have uttered (without knowing The Hubby's trade) something about the "biased media" or how "the media is this or that." I tried not to let it offend me because I'm also good at stereotyping and blanket statements... but I want to tell you a different side of the news media.
I want to tell you about my Husband... the story teller...
... who agonized when he had to go interview you after your high-school aged son died on the football practice field.
... who covered the funeral of your daughter that was killed after a gun fell out of your pocket, and then sobbed with the photographer in the truck afterwards.
... who knocked on your door to tell the story of your husband that died serving our country.
My Husband, your news guy, carried those stories home with him. They changed him, and they are a large part of his decision to leave the business. As hard as they were, he loved those stories... telling the legacies of those people, those places, those moments... factual, unbiased, real. He cried. He prayed. He held our kids and me a little tighter. Your lives shaped ours, and we are thankful. I am thankful.
As he has been wrapping things up these last few weeks, the emails of encouragement, support and well-wishes have been trickling in. The few he has shared with me have been precious, beautiful, sacred.
In John 15:5, Jesus said, “I am the vine, you are the branches.Whoever remains in me, and I in him, will bear much fruit; for you can do nothing without me.”
I'm hopeful that his viewers and co-workers will remember him this way... as his other childhood dream... a farmer... bearing Fruit, divine fruit.
Did he get angry and lose his temper? Sure! And then he came home and re-thought his actions and words... and how he would or should "right" them.
He wrote cards to so many of the people he interviewed... who let him into their homes, their pain, their joy.
He even stopped by and prayed with interviewees, long after the story was over and the media stopped talking about it.
Dustin- You are nothing short of incredible. You have given it your all for 8 years, and I'm so proud of what you've done. You are so good at telling great stories, and equally humble in accepting accolades. You have enjoyed your co-workers, but never let them settle for being "okay" at what they do... always trying to push the "product" to the next level. You have been in more homes in Michiana than your Realtor wife, and have more loyal followers than you or I will ever really know. I have loved rehashing stories with you... rewriting them, reliving them. You have always been way too hard on yourself. So, sign off tomorrow night, Love, with confidence and joy knowing you've been a very Fruitful Branch.
And, just as Edward R. Murrow said at the end of a broadcast in 1940, "Good night, and good luck."
Aug 24, 2012
Running for HER life
I've said it once, and I'll say it again: I'm a wanna-be runner. I look a fool when I run. I feel like I could die due to a lack of oxygen. I begrudgingly strap on my shoes and dream up any excuse I can to get out of it. I am not a runner, and though my Dad won a state championship that involved running while he was in high school, those genes skipped my body.
Luckily, for me, The Hubby is a runner. To him, it's a stress reliever. And, his "hobby running" is straight up motivation for my two-kids-have-been-carried-full-term-on-these-hips figure.
I ran my first half marathon when The Girl was 9 months old. I sort-of trained. My second half-marathon... well, I had no business running that one. I think I ran about 10 miles total in "training." My third half-marathon was fun. I did it with my sister. Enough said.
A few months ago some friends and I were talking about running a half-marathon together. We decided on the first-ever Purdue Half Marathon and then discovered an organization called As Our Own. In a nutshell, they rescue little girls born to women working in brothels in India... and raise them "as their own." We worked to get the Purdue Half Marathon on the list of sponsor races this year for As Our Own, and it now is! WOOT WOOT! And, we just met our girl.
We're running for Neelu.
"Neelu is 15 years old and is in the 9th grade. She has a knack for keeping things neat and organized. Neelu loves to spend time with her sisters. Here tender heart is hungry to know God through worship and the Bible, and she would like to attend seminary for a future in serving others. She is passionate to go wherever God leads her!
Once a child is rescued into our family, she becomes an irreplaceable member. She is not up for adoption, because she has a permanent place of belonging, right here with us. She's ours to love, nurture, teach, and enjoy. For life."
Neelu is a real girl. She is living a life that I cannot fathom right now, and I certainly couldn't have imagined when I was her age... headed into my freshman year at Harrison High School in West Lafayette.
I am still a wanna-be. I still look funny when I run. I still can't breathe, and I still run a 12 minute mile. But I no longer do it for me. It's not about my figure, my weight, or fitting into my "skinny jeans." Every time I put on my shoes, I think of a sweet girl on the other side of the world who needs to escape her current reality. I think of Neelu, a 15-year-old girl, whom I will likely never meet while on this earth.
She is real. I'm running for HER life.
Will you support Team Indianapolis? https://iwillrun.myetap.org/fundraiser/teamindianapolis/
Luckily, for me, The Hubby is a runner. To him, it's a stress reliever. And, his "hobby running" is straight up motivation for my two-kids-have-been-carried-full-term-on-these-hips figure.
I ran my first half marathon when The Girl was 9 months old. I sort-of trained. My second half-marathon... well, I had no business running that one. I think I ran about 10 miles total in "training." My third half-marathon was fun. I did it with my sister. Enough said.
A few months ago some friends and I were talking about running a half-marathon together. We decided on the first-ever Purdue Half Marathon and then discovered an organization called As Our Own. In a nutshell, they rescue little girls born to women working in brothels in India... and raise them "as their own." We worked to get the Purdue Half Marathon on the list of sponsor races this year for As Our Own, and it now is! WOOT WOOT! And, we just met our girl.
We're running for Neelu.
"Neelu is 15 years old and is in the 9th grade. She has a knack for keeping things neat and organized. Neelu loves to spend time with her sisters. Here tender heart is hungry to know God through worship and the Bible, and she would like to attend seminary for a future in serving others. She is passionate to go wherever God leads her!
Once a child is rescued into our family, she becomes an irreplaceable member. She is not up for adoption, because she has a permanent place of belonging, right here with us. She's ours to love, nurture, teach, and enjoy. For life."
Neelu is a real girl. She is living a life that I cannot fathom right now, and I certainly couldn't have imagined when I was her age... headed into my freshman year at Harrison High School in West Lafayette.
I am still a wanna-be. I still look funny when I run. I still can't breathe, and I still run a 12 minute mile. But I no longer do it for me. It's not about my figure, my weight, or fitting into my "skinny jeans." Every time I put on my shoes, I think of a sweet girl on the other side of the world who needs to escape her current reality. I think of Neelu, a 15-year-old girl, whom I will likely never meet while on this earth.
She is real. I'm running for HER life.
Will you support Team Indianapolis? https://iwillrun.myetap.org/fundraiser/teamindianapolis/
Jul 3, 2012
Journal starter
Reflect back to elementary school. You there? Okay-- did your teacher (circa 4th or 5th grade) ever give you "journal starters" to spark a creative writing exercise? The one I most easily recall went something like... "On my summer vacation I..." We would then be encouraged to write without stopping... to let the creative words flow.
Okay. Back to present day.
This morning at my mom's I was reading a coffee table book she got from my cousin Hasso, who is raising support to go full time with Wycliffe Bible Translators. The book is called "Worship The Global Hallelujah" and it's infused with scripture, photos, quotes and ... journal starters!
This one caught my attention, and I plan to spend time pondering it: "If at the end of my life God showed me what my worship of Him looked like, here is what I'd want to see..."
I can immediately think of what I don't want to see. It's selfish. It focus on MY wants, MY emotions, MY needs. What I want to see when worshiping the Author and Creator of my life should have nothing to do with me.
In their book, Wycliffe suggest worship is:
-what we were created for.
-expressing our love to God.
-God's children gathering to proclaim His faithfulness.
-both quiet trusting and loud proclaiming of God's eternal Word.
-the flow of God's Spirit through lives of those who depend on Him.
-welcoming God to change us.
-surrendering our will to God's will.
-both a personal experience and a shared experience.
-proclaiming the victory of Christ in the midst of difficulties.
-praising God no matter where we are or who we are.
... just to name a few.
So I'll ask you again, "If at the end of my life God showed me what my worship of Him looked like, here is what I'd want to see..."
Boys and girls, you have 15 minutes to complete this task. I should hear no talking, and your pencils should keep moving the entire time. You don't have to write in complete sentences. Just jot down whatever comes to mind. You may stop writing when the bell rings.
Okay. Back to present day.
This morning at my mom's I was reading a coffee table book she got from my cousin Hasso, who is raising support to go full time with Wycliffe Bible Translators. The book is called "Worship The Global Hallelujah" and it's infused with scripture, photos, quotes and ... journal starters!
This one caught my attention, and I plan to spend time pondering it: "If at the end of my life God showed me what my worship of Him looked like, here is what I'd want to see..."
I can immediately think of what I don't want to see. It's selfish. It focus on MY wants, MY emotions, MY needs. What I want to see when worshiping the Author and Creator of my life should have nothing to do with me.
In their book, Wycliffe suggest worship is:
-what we were created for.
-expressing our love to God.
-God's children gathering to proclaim His faithfulness.
-both quiet trusting and loud proclaiming of God's eternal Word.
-the flow of God's Spirit through lives of those who depend on Him.
-welcoming God to change us.
-surrendering our will to God's will.
-both a personal experience and a shared experience.
-proclaiming the victory of Christ in the midst of difficulties.
-praising God no matter where we are or who we are.
... just to name a few.
So I'll ask you again, "If at the end of my life God showed me what my worship of Him looked like, here is what I'd want to see..."
Boys and girls, you have 15 minutes to complete this task. I should hear no talking, and your pencils should keep moving the entire time. You don't have to write in complete sentences. Just jot down whatever comes to mind. You may stop writing when the bell rings.
Jun 25, 2012
The beast
There's an animal lurking around our home. It's not like the 20 in. corn snake found in my brother & sister-in-laws family room last week. No, this is much, much scarier than that. And, it rears its ugly head at a moments notice. There's no rhyme or reason... it's just untrained. And it's ferocious. Even without lungs, it is harming people ... sometimes daily.
It's my tongue.
I'm working on memorizing Ephesians 4:29 "Let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for building up, as fits the occasion, that it may give grace to those who hear."
Building up? Giving grace? Not even close.
Last night, mindlessly, I said something to The Hubby that was just rude, unkind, and completely untrue about him. I called him a name... and I was joking... but it was just unnecessary. My man knows me well enough to know I was joking, but it was another nail hole in his fence. (Ever heard that story... when you hurt someone it's like you put a nail in their fence... and though you may apologize and ask for forgiveness... and the nail comes out... the hole in the fence remains for a while. I like to think that eventually Jesus comes by with His wood putty and fills in the hole... but its rarely immediate.)
I love My Hubby. He's the man of my dreams. But what I said to him was a low blow.
When I started working on this verse I was thinking gossip. What I realized after last night's exchange is that it's not what I'm saying behind people's backs that's hurting them-- gossip isn't really my thing. It's the coarseness with which I'm saying things to people ... as I look them in the eye.
I KNOW?! BEASTLY!
So, why am I telling you? #1) Beware if you're near me. This thing is ugly! It comes out at the most random of moments and it will chew you up and spit you out in nothing flat. Ask My Hubby! On second thought, don't. Please. I don't want to relive it, or have him relive it, ever again. #2) Call me out on this, people! This is not right. Shoot the beast! Kill the beast!
With all this said, I'm adding a few more verses to my "soon to be memorized" list:
"May my tongue cling to the roof of my mouth if I do not remember you..." -Psalm 137:6
"When words are many, sin is not absent, but he who holds his tongue is wise." -Proverbs 10:19
"He who guards his mouth and his tongue keeps himself from calamity." -Proverbs 21:23
And the most painful, but most important ones as I attempt to kill this beast...
"If anyone considers himself religious and yet does not keep a tight rein on his tongue, he deceives himself and his religion is worthless." -James 1:26 (My testimony is at stake! I refuse to waste all that God has done in my life!)
... and James 3:1-12. Ouch. Ouch. Ouch.
So there you have it. Guns are blazin'. Kill the beast.
It's my tongue.
I'm working on memorizing Ephesians 4:29 "Let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for building up, as fits the occasion, that it may give grace to those who hear."
Building up? Giving grace? Not even close.
Last night, mindlessly, I said something to The Hubby that was just rude, unkind, and completely untrue about him. I called him a name... and I was joking... but it was just unnecessary. My man knows me well enough to know I was joking, but it was another nail hole in his fence. (Ever heard that story... when you hurt someone it's like you put a nail in their fence... and though you may apologize and ask for forgiveness... and the nail comes out... the hole in the fence remains for a while. I like to think that eventually Jesus comes by with His wood putty and fills in the hole... but its rarely immediate.)
I love My Hubby. He's the man of my dreams. But what I said to him was a low blow.
When I started working on this verse I was thinking gossip. What I realized after last night's exchange is that it's not what I'm saying behind people's backs that's hurting them-- gossip isn't really my thing. It's the coarseness with which I'm saying things to people ... as I look them in the eye.
I KNOW?! BEASTLY!
So, why am I telling you? #1) Beware if you're near me. This thing is ugly! It comes out at the most random of moments and it will chew you up and spit you out in nothing flat. Ask My Hubby! On second thought, don't. Please. I don't want to relive it, or have him relive it, ever again. #2) Call me out on this, people! This is not right. Shoot the beast! Kill the beast!
With all this said, I'm adding a few more verses to my "soon to be memorized" list:
"May my tongue cling to the roof of my mouth if I do not remember you..." -Psalm 137:6
"When words are many, sin is not absent, but he who holds his tongue is wise." -Proverbs 10:19
"He who guards his mouth and his tongue keeps himself from calamity." -Proverbs 21:23
And the most painful, but most important ones as I attempt to kill this beast...
"If anyone considers himself religious and yet does not keep a tight rein on his tongue, he deceives himself and his religion is worthless." -James 1:26 (My testimony is at stake! I refuse to waste all that God has done in my life!)
... and James 3:1-12. Ouch. Ouch. Ouch.
So there you have it. Guns are blazin'. Kill the beast.
May 31, 2012
Embrace The Pace
So as I was running last week, I realized that the motto of the town we're currently living in is "Embrace the pace."
This is not a coincidence.
Then, I started to look around. Everyone really does "embrace the pace." (Did you know that was possible?) Maybe it's summer... maybe it's the average age of town residents... or maybe it's just small-town Indiana... but whatever it is, it's therapeutic.
Anywho, you know you're Embracing The Pace when you find horse and buggy parking at your favorite hometown grocer...
And anyone who has time to shingle their mailbox is certainly Embracing The Pace...
My Father-In-Law, henceforth known as FIL, delicately Embraces The Pace as he gives his grand kids "tractor rides"...
And I have found that the world's most gigantic playpen will allow me to Embrace all sorts of Paces this summer as The Boy is trapped in one location *insert evil laugh*...
I don't know if it's a Pace that we're Embracing as MIL and FIL do this gigantic addition on their house (aka Temporary Dwelling #1), but we're certainly enjoying watching the daily progress...
And, how can you not Embrace The Pace as you watch your laundry spin in the sun?
Life is good. I'm Embracing The Pace.
This is not a coincidence.
Then, I started to look around. Everyone really does "embrace the pace." (Did you know that was possible?) Maybe it's summer... maybe it's the average age of town residents... or maybe it's just small-town Indiana... but whatever it is, it's therapeutic.
Anywho, you know you're Embracing The Pace when you find horse and buggy parking at your favorite hometown grocer...
And anyone who has time to shingle their mailbox is certainly Embracing The Pace...
My Father-In-Law, henceforth known as FIL, delicately Embraces The Pace as he gives his grand kids "tractor rides"...
And I have found that the world's most gigantic playpen will allow me to Embrace all sorts of Paces this summer as The Boy is trapped in one location *insert evil laugh*...
I don't know if it's a Pace that we're Embracing as MIL and FIL do this gigantic addition on their house (aka Temporary Dwelling #1), but we're certainly enjoying watching the daily progress...
And, how can you not Embrace The Pace as you watch your laundry spin in the sun?
Life is good. I'm Embracing The Pace.
May 30, 2012
It is finished
It's hard to believe we've been living in our new digs more than a week already, and yet at the same time, it's hard to believe its only been a week. Youknowwhatimean?
Anyway, the move was quite eventful...
At first we were being cute and silly
Nothing like some Martin's doughnuts to energize you on moving day!
Then, The Hubby pulled in with the BIG truck.
(FYI- It did not have the air-brakes he was hoping for.)
At this point, the piano movers hadn't showed up, so there was still time for cute photos.
Fast forward about four hours. So many of our dear small group friends showed up and we unloaded the house in nothing flat! Unfortunately, we loaded the truck in nothing flat and realized we'd have to make two trips to West Lafayette. That wasn't on the weekend agenda, but we were thankful for unlimited mileage!
So, with tired kids ready to sleep their way to Memaw's, I took off in our fully-loaded van (not fully loaded as in DVD players and automatic doors... think over sized framed art). I was about 7 minutes into the 2+hour drive when Hubby called.
Hubby: The truck is stuck in the driveway.
Me: That's so funny. What did you really call about?
Hubby: I'm not joking. I can't go forward or backwards. It's wedged in.
Me: So..... what are we going to do?
Hubby: You need to come back here and we need to start unloading the truck.
Me: ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME? We just spent 4 hours loading it with the help of ten people!
Hubby: I'm not sure what else to do. Just come back.
This is what I saw when I pulled up. An exasperated Hubby... and Neighbor Man with a jack.
It wasn't looking good, no matter what angle one chose....
That would be the divots in our CONCRETE driveway from our weighty load.
Well, in a short 6 minutes, one very wise neighbor came up with the idea of putting something under each rear tire to give it just enough lift that when Hubby gunned the engine the truck would come loose. (All I could see was the rear bumper coming off the Penske.) Luckily, Neighbor Man was much smarter than me and we were FREEEEE. On the road... again... for real...
I'll spare you ALL the details of the unloading in West Lafayette. There were three different drop off locations (everything is in storage) and minimal helpers. Needless to say, when our 14-hour day ended at 11:30pm we fell asleep quickly.
At 8:30 Sunday morning we were on the road again. We were on a mission to be at 11am church (our last time of worship with our peeps) and then to a sweet, sweet going away open house. I will never forget the words that our friends spoke to us. So much encouragement and truth and Jesus.
But enough of that... time for truckload #2 to be loaded. There's not much, I thought. Thankfully some dear (ie WISE) friends showed up to help us a second day in a row, and we packed the truck again... full.
Meanwhile... the kids found places to nap...
And, for the second time in one day, I saw SR 25 from Rochester to Lafayette. Trust me, this is not something to put on one's bucket list.
Here's drop zone #2 of three...
The hilarity came at 11:30 Sunday night, as me and The Hubby made our way to Embrace The Pace at our temporary home #1. There was quite a lightening storm going on in the distant countryside around us (think summer storm, fun to watch on a porch.) It was super windy, but not raining hard. As we slowed on SR 25 to turn on to US 31, I asked if Hubby would mind taking over the wheel. Without hesitation, we did a Chinese fire drill. However, we forgot to establish who would be taking which route around the exterior of the car and then ***BAM***, we cracked heads. I'm talking full-on, no-time-to-stop, leave-a-goose-egg-or-black-eye contact. We both climbed back into the van with a hand over an eye, and laughed. We gut laughed. We could hardly breathe because of the hilarity of that moment... or that day... or that weekend... or that event.
God was faithful in providing help... safe travels... and moments to cling to Him.
He. Is. Good.
So tomorrow, it is finished. We officially close on our house and walk like the Israelites did. No home. No certain future. Just us and the Lord.
The Great Adventure is in full swing.
May 16, 2012
The Influencers
Things are winding down. The "Michiana" chapter of our family book is coming to its completion. It's so deeply saddening, and yet so confirming as well.
This September it will have been seven years since we purchased our first home in this area. A home we planned to live in two or three years, not because we'd be moving a block away, but because we'd be moving to Indianapolis. But, God, in his infinite wisdom, had something far better for us here. And now, 6.5 years later, I can see it too.
Our lives have been deeply impacted by so many different people. Here, we went from young marrieds to a young family, and God strategically planted His people along the way to encourage and bless us.
Neighbors- Helen, Roger, Gary, Tom, Barb, Muff, Kim, Jason, Holly, Joe... I could go on and on. How is it possible that in owning three homes we could have been blessed by such amazing neighbors?? You cut our hedges that were on your property... made dinners for us as we attempted parenthood... mowed our grass just because... and showered us with free babysitting and endless children's clothing. In a nutshell, you taught us, mere children, how to be great neighbors. We will carry your friendships with us throughout our life.
Pastors- Rick, Brent, Kyle, Jay, Collin... you guys are so amazing! God put us under your wings to learn what it means to be members of a church. You shepherded us through periods of incredible growth in our individual walks with the Lord, and as we figured out what that meant as a couple. We are so thankful for each of you, and pray God's richest blessings as you continue in your various calls to shepherd His flock.
Uprising Class- Our first friends as Mr & Mrs. We never treasured enough our short time together-- especially those days pre-kids. ;) Game nights, cross-country skiing, dessert at Yesterdays- we cherish the memories. And now, even as we're scattering to all parts of the country, we remain thankful in our prayers for you. Those that are still here, we've clung tightly to... and those that have already moved have given us hope for what's next for us on this earth. We love you.
Grace Church Family- You are our people. You are our family. What can we even say to express how much we love you. You have encouraged us, prayed for us, spurred us on, loved us. We have loved serving with you and for you. Granger is being touched by you. Blow the walls out. We can't wait to come back and worship with you. Pray for us.
Small Group Peeps- Past and present... our brothers and sisters who know our deepest grime, yet still love us and want to be in relationship with us. Tuesday nights have always been our favorite. Doing life with you all has blessed us more than words can express. Thank you for your prayer covering as we go forward.
MOPS gals- It has been a mere two years....not nearly long enough. However, you have taught me that I'm not insane. I walk into that room on Thursday mornings, and instantly I'm normal. Thank you for your willingness to come alongside me.
BSF women- How good is our God? I just had to look around my discussion groups to be reminded. All different walks of life... all different past experiences... all learning about the same God. God used you to teach me so much. Genesis, Romans, Isaiah, Acts of the Apostles... four incredible studies that rocked my world.
Cressy & Everett Associates- Why you let a cocky, young know-it-all like me in to those doors is beyond me. You are professional, courteous, educated, wise... I could go on and on. Six months ago I hung up my Michiana Real Estate hat, but it will forever hang on your hook. You taught me, and even let me train you. What a blast. And Sue, you're one in a million. There are no words to express how thankful I am for your leadership and example.
WSBT co-workers- In nine years, there have been many of you. Thank you for taking my Hubby in, allowing him to do what he loves, and sending him home relatively unscathed. He has been challenged and grown, and remains passionate about good journalism. Thank you for never making me feel like an outsider... and for trusting me to sell so many of your homes. ;)
Boyfriend, turned Baby-Daddy- You are my very best friend. We started this journey as individuals, and are on to the next adventure arm in arm, and with two beautiful Blessings in tow. How are we this deserving? Thank you for your encouragement as I've attempted to figure out what it means to be your wife, and the mother of our kids. I thank God for every single morning that I get to wake up next to you. My only expectation is that you please keep pointing me to Jesus. If anyone knows how desperately I need that, it's you. Okay? Alright. Lets do this, Love.
Michiana, you've been good to me. My life is different because of the 6.5 years I've lived here. Thank you.
This September it will have been seven years since we purchased our first home in this area. A home we planned to live in two or three years, not because we'd be moving a block away, but because we'd be moving to Indianapolis. But, God, in his infinite wisdom, had something far better for us here. And now, 6.5 years later, I can see it too.
Our lives have been deeply impacted by so many different people. Here, we went from young marrieds to a young family, and God strategically planted His people along the way to encourage and bless us.
Neighbors- Helen, Roger, Gary, Tom, Barb, Muff, Kim, Jason, Holly, Joe... I could go on and on. How is it possible that in owning three homes we could have been blessed by such amazing neighbors?? You cut our hedges that were on your property... made dinners for us as we attempted parenthood... mowed our grass just because... and showered us with free babysitting and endless children's clothing. In a nutshell, you taught us, mere children, how to be great neighbors. We will carry your friendships with us throughout our life.
Pastors- Rick, Brent, Kyle, Jay, Collin... you guys are so amazing! God put us under your wings to learn what it means to be members of a church. You shepherded us through periods of incredible growth in our individual walks with the Lord, and as we figured out what that meant as a couple. We are so thankful for each of you, and pray God's richest blessings as you continue in your various calls to shepherd His flock.
Uprising Class- Our first friends as Mr & Mrs. We never treasured enough our short time together-- especially those days pre-kids. ;) Game nights, cross-country skiing, dessert at Yesterdays- we cherish the memories. And now, even as we're scattering to all parts of the country, we remain thankful in our prayers for you. Those that are still here, we've clung tightly to... and those that have already moved have given us hope for what's next for us on this earth. We love you.
Grace Church Family- You are our people. You are our family. What can we even say to express how much we love you. You have encouraged us, prayed for us, spurred us on, loved us. We have loved serving with you and for you. Granger is being touched by you. Blow the walls out. We can't wait to come back and worship with you. Pray for us.
Small Group Peeps- Past and present... our brothers and sisters who know our deepest grime, yet still love us and want to be in relationship with us. Tuesday nights have always been our favorite. Doing life with you all has blessed us more than words can express. Thank you for your prayer covering as we go forward.
MOPS gals- It has been a mere two years....not nearly long enough. However, you have taught me that I'm not insane. I walk into that room on Thursday mornings, and instantly I'm normal. Thank you for your willingness to come alongside me.
BSF women- How good is our God? I just had to look around my discussion groups to be reminded. All different walks of life... all different past experiences... all learning about the same God. God used you to teach me so much. Genesis, Romans, Isaiah, Acts of the Apostles... four incredible studies that rocked my world.
Cressy & Everett Associates- Why you let a cocky, young know-it-all like me in to those doors is beyond me. You are professional, courteous, educated, wise... I could go on and on. Six months ago I hung up my Michiana Real Estate hat, but it will forever hang on your hook. You taught me, and even let me train you. What a blast. And Sue, you're one in a million. There are no words to express how thankful I am for your leadership and example.
WSBT co-workers- In nine years, there have been many of you. Thank you for taking my Hubby in, allowing him to do what he loves, and sending him home relatively unscathed. He has been challenged and grown, and remains passionate about good journalism. Thank you for never making me feel like an outsider... and for trusting me to sell so many of your homes. ;)
Boyfriend, turned Baby-Daddy- You are my very best friend. We started this journey as individuals, and are on to the next adventure arm in arm, and with two beautiful Blessings in tow. How are we this deserving? Thank you for your encouragement as I've attempted to figure out what it means to be your wife, and the mother of our kids. I thank God for every single morning that I get to wake up next to you. My only expectation is that you please keep pointing me to Jesus. If anyone knows how desperately I need that, it's you. Okay? Alright. Lets do this, Love.
Michiana, you've been good to me. My life is different because of the 6.5 years I've lived here. Thank you.
May 3, 2012
Sweet sweat
Today I went for a run for the first time in 10 days. Between the thick, wet air and a gut full of a delicious MOPS brunch, I thought I might die... or puke... or just pass out. Of the many weird things about me, when I work out, I don't sweat until I stop exercising. I know, bizarre.
So, today was no different, except for the amount of sweat. It was rolling off me. My shirt was soaked. I felt legit in my efforts to be athletic.
The Hubby had to rush off to work, so we high-fived, gave a kiss, and off he went. It was just me and The Boy. And, my sweat. As I let The Boy down from his high-chair, I was surprised that even in my stinky, ringing wet state, he wanted to be held. And not just held, but he wanted to be snuggled.
Ew!
"I know I'm your mom, and I'm thankful you love me no matter what, but Little Dude, I STINK!"
And then it hit me. It's just like Jesus.
"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest." -Matthew 11:28
When you stink, come to Jesus.
When you're sweaty, come to Jesus.
When you're struggling, come to Jesus.
No matter what. No matter when.
You don't clean yourself up to go to your Father.
I let myself lay on the floor, and I laughed (not in disgust) as my son crawled all over me. He nuzzled me. He wrestled me. He didn't give one care or concern to my odorous state of being.
Matthew went on to say this, "Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light."
So, where are you finding rest? Are you trying to clean up your sweaty-self before going to Jesus? Are you being honest with Him and yourself about the reality of your sin?
Thank you, Jesus, for using the sweet sweat and an adorable one-year-old to remind me of how much you love me.
So, today was no different, except for the amount of sweat. It was rolling off me. My shirt was soaked. I felt legit in my efforts to be athletic.
The Hubby had to rush off to work, so we high-fived, gave a kiss, and off he went. It was just me and The Boy. And, my sweat. As I let The Boy down from his high-chair, I was surprised that even in my stinky, ringing wet state, he wanted to be held. And not just held, but he wanted to be snuggled.
Ew!
"I know I'm your mom, and I'm thankful you love me no matter what, but Little Dude, I STINK!"
And then it hit me. It's just like Jesus.
"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest." -Matthew 11:28
When you stink, come to Jesus.
When you're sweaty, come to Jesus.
When you're struggling, come to Jesus.
No matter what. No matter when.
You don't clean yourself up to go to your Father.
I let myself lay on the floor, and I laughed (not in disgust) as my son crawled all over me. He nuzzled me. He wrestled me. He didn't give one care or concern to my odorous state of being.
Matthew went on to say this, "Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light."
So, where are you finding rest? Are you trying to clean up your sweaty-self before going to Jesus? Are you being honest with Him and yourself about the reality of your sin?
Thank you, Jesus, for using the sweet sweat and an adorable one-year-old to remind me of how much you love me.
Apr 12, 2012
The Treasure Box
Each year, on the kids' birthdays, The Hubby and I write them a letter. We talk about the last year, how they've grown, and what we look forward to in the year ahead. The letters are then sealed, placed inside, and forgotten about. The premise behind the box is that 21 days before their 21st birthday, you start mailing them the letters, one per day. (I know, sob!) I'm not sure if we'll do that, or mail however many we have that many days before their wedding. (For The Girl, that means we only have about 8 more years, as most of her wedding is already planned. She'll just have to narrow down which groom she'll have.)
Anyway, The Boy had a birthday, and here's what he'll read from me 20 years from now...
JRG--
My little buddy. My little stinker (literally—every diaper I changed in the last 48 hours involved #2). Happy 1st Birthday! I cannot even believe we’re saying that already.
There really are no words to express how much joy you have brought to our family in the last 365 days. We had to coerce you out of the womb, but pretty much since that moment you have shown your independence. (Unlike your sister, you never let me snuggle you to sleep!) You rolled over on your own when you were a mere 5 weeks old, and made it an easy habit by 3 months. By 8 months you were climbing the stairs with ease, always ending up in the bathroom, where you either 1) climbed into the tub or 2) unrolled the entire roll of toilet paper.
You are, and always have been, such a happy little guy. I’ll never forget trying to get you to laugh when you were two months old, and the hilarious sound you made. That sound has turned into one of the best baby gut laughs I’ve ever heard. Every part of you is ticklish.
Rightfully so, your first word was “Adda.” And, as much as Dad would have liked to claim you were looking for him, we all knew you were talking to your big sister. She loves you so much, and you absolutely adore her. I pray you two become the best of friends, even though I know there might be a few rocky years in there, too. Your second word was “ball,” which you’re quickly learning how to “throw.” I can’t wait to see what sports interest you, or if you end up interested in sports at all?
When you were born I was still working full time as a Realtor. I took six weeks “off” and never figured out how to get back into things full time. By the time you were six months old, Dad and I were trusting God as we felt Him calling me to be home full time. I’m so thankful for that blessing, as we’ve been able to have so much fun together this year—without the distractions of my work.
Jack, you are a joy. You are all boy—into everything, happy only when there’s a mess, and melting hearts with your dimples and curly blonde hair. I pray that God grabs a hold of your heart, and that you do great things to bring glory to His name.
With love,
Mama
Apr 3, 2012
Today
I'm having a paradigm shift. It's called today.
I've very familiar with tomorrow. I've been planning it for weeks. And yesterday? Oh I can wallow in the sorrows and failures of that one forever. But today? Humph. What exactly are you?
We (as in me, The Hubby, The Girl and The Boy) are headed into a major season of change. There's lots of stuff on the horizon, and therefore lots of necessity to start list-making. And yet, my pen rests. (Well, okay, there might be one or two lists floating around.)
Here's what Matthew, a Jewish tax collector who became a follower of Jesus, had to say, "Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own." -Matthew 6:34
Duly noted, Matthew. Sage advice.
What I'm starting to learn about myself, is that if I just focus on today I get so much more accomplished.
A big "ah-ha" has come in using my new "today" philosophy in regards to working out. The old me would get out a calender, map out a week worth of workouts, and be livid by day 2 when I'm already off "the plan." The new me says, "Okay, Stacy, here is today. Where can you fit in 30-40 minutes of cardio?" It's so simple it's silly. But, it's working.
The same thing goes for "dieting." I was famous for hearing about a great new diet plan... getting the book... studying it... restocking our kitchen... and then being bored by the third meal. The new me says, "Stacy. What is your goal? Is what you're about to put in your mouth going to get you to your goal?" It's not about "blowing the diet for the day" or "falling off course." It's about having a focus, and that focus is now.
In the larger issue at hand--the blur on the horizon ahead-- the fact of the matter is that today I reside in Granger. This is where God has us right now. The ministries He has included me in have not changed. The neighbors have not changed. The friendships have not been severed. I am not letting Satan push me into a hole to wallow in my sorrows.
Jesus' brother, James, had this to say: "Now listen, you who say, "Today or tomorrow we will go to this or that city, spend a year there, carry on business and make money." Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes. Instead, you ought to say, "If it is the Lord's will, we will live and do this or that." -James 4:13-15
I don't know about tomorrow, but I do know today. I'm here. I'm in it. This is the Lord's will for my life. Live today.
I've very familiar with tomorrow. I've been planning it for weeks. And yesterday? Oh I can wallow in the sorrows and failures of that one forever. But today? Humph. What exactly are you?
We (as in me, The Hubby, The Girl and The Boy) are headed into a major season of change. There's lots of stuff on the horizon, and therefore lots of necessity to start list-making. And yet, my pen rests. (Well, okay, there might be one or two lists floating around.)
Here's what Matthew, a Jewish tax collector who became a follower of Jesus, had to say, "Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own." -Matthew 6:34
Duly noted, Matthew. Sage advice.
What I'm starting to learn about myself, is that if I just focus on today I get so much more accomplished.
A big "ah-ha" has come in using my new "today" philosophy in regards to working out. The old me would get out a calender, map out a week worth of workouts, and be livid by day 2 when I'm already off "the plan." The new me says, "Okay, Stacy, here is today. Where can you fit in 30-40 minutes of cardio?" It's so simple it's silly. But, it's working.
The same thing goes for "dieting." I was famous for hearing about a great new diet plan... getting the book... studying it... restocking our kitchen... and then being bored by the third meal. The new me says, "Stacy. What is your goal? Is what you're about to put in your mouth going to get you to your goal?" It's not about "blowing the diet for the day" or "falling off course." It's about having a focus, and that focus is now.
In the larger issue at hand--the blur on the horizon ahead-- the fact of the matter is that today I reside in Granger. This is where God has us right now. The ministries He has included me in have not changed. The neighbors have not changed. The friendships have not been severed. I am not letting Satan push me into a hole to wallow in my sorrows.
Jesus' brother, James, had this to say: "Now listen, you who say, "Today or tomorrow we will go to this or that city, spend a year there, carry on business and make money." Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes. Instead, you ought to say, "If it is the Lord's will, we will live and do this or that." -James 4:13-15
I don't know about tomorrow, but I do know today. I'm here. I'm in it. This is the Lord's will for my life. Live today.
Feb 27, 2012
The Facebook Conundrum
Ahhhh Facebook. You're a very divisive topic. We either love you or we hate you. You've reconnected relationships and ruined others.
Suddenly, I'm just not sure how I feel about you.
Last Spring, I took the Facebook app off my phone. I had spent one too many evenings, while giving The Boy a 2am feeding, scrolling my wall. I also paused one too many games of "Go Fish" to check in on everyone in the middle of the afternoon... or upload a picture of my precious kids... or tell about some great thought I had just had. Having it on my phone was allowing FB to consume me. I was thinking in status updates.
More recently, a few friends have given up Facebook for Lent. Noble. I don't consider myself an "addict," but I am now wondering what Facebook really does for me.
Spilling the truth of this conundrum is even more radical for me, as I am a certified continuing education instructor for the use of social media in Real Estate. Don't get me wrong, there are many great uses for this website, I don't dispute that at all-- especially in the business realm-- but that's not what I'm using it for any longer.
A few months ago, The Hubby and I deleted our individual accounts and created a joint one. One of the reasons we did this was that starting a new one was easier than deleting the more than 500 real estate related "friends" I had after teaching those CE courses-- and no longer felt I needed to foster those relationships after being called home to raise our children. Having a joint account also created an accountability that neither of us realized we needed. For the most part, we were communicating with all the same people via individual accounts. As we "accepted" friends to our new account, we asked ourselves the question "Is this someone that I would mail a birthday card?" (Those of you that are reading this that ARE FB friends know that we don't actually do this... but I digress...)
Some small group friends brought my attention to this Piper quote:
“One of the great uses of Twitter and Facebook will be to prove at the Last Day that prayerlessness was not from lack of time.” --John Piper
Ouch. I am SO convicted, SO guilty.
I spend more time scrolling through the happenings of my "friends" and "followers" than I do at the feet of my Savior, interceding for them in prayer. It's true. Ew. Sick. Gross.
So, now I'm doing some soul searching, and dragging The Hubby along with me. (Honestly, I don't think he really cares whether or not we have a FB account.) Some thoughts to ponder:
Suddenly, I'm just not sure how I feel about you.
Last Spring, I took the Facebook app off my phone. I had spent one too many evenings, while giving The Boy a 2am feeding, scrolling my wall. I also paused one too many games of "Go Fish" to check in on everyone in the middle of the afternoon... or upload a picture of my precious kids... or tell about some great thought I had just had. Having it on my phone was allowing FB to consume me. I was thinking in status updates.
More recently, a few friends have given up Facebook for Lent. Noble. I don't consider myself an "addict," but I am now wondering what Facebook really does for me.
Spilling the truth of this conundrum is even more radical for me, as I am a certified continuing education instructor for the use of social media in Real Estate. Don't get me wrong, there are many great uses for this website, I don't dispute that at all-- especially in the business realm-- but that's not what I'm using it for any longer.
A few months ago, The Hubby and I deleted our individual accounts and created a joint one. One of the reasons we did this was that starting a new one was easier than deleting the more than 500 real estate related "friends" I had after teaching those CE courses-- and no longer felt I needed to foster those relationships after being called home to raise our children. Having a joint account also created an accountability that neither of us realized we needed. For the most part, we were communicating with all the same people via individual accounts. As we "accepted" friends to our new account, we asked ourselves the question "Is this someone that I would mail a birthday card?" (Those of you that are reading this that ARE FB friends know that we don't actually do this... but I digress...)
Some small group friends brought my attention to this Piper quote:
“One of the great uses of Twitter and Facebook will be to prove at the Last Day that prayerlessness was not from lack of time.” --John Piper
Ouch. I am SO convicted, SO guilty.
I spend more time scrolling through the happenings of my "friends" and "followers" than I do at the feet of my Savior, interceding for them in prayer. It's true. Ew. Sick. Gross.
So, now I'm doing some soul searching, and dragging The Hubby along with me. (Honestly, I don't think he really cares whether or not we have a FB account.) Some thoughts to ponder:
Feb 22, 2012
Lent, not lint.
Okay fine. I'll confess. I let The Hubby catch me making notes about belly-button fuzz.
It was such a great small group gathering. A girlfriend was sharing some sweet thoughts she gleaned from a sermon at her old church. I was writing, writing, writing... and then, as commonly happens, The Hubby stole my pen. "Oh, she's said something that's struck a cord with him," I thought.
On the contrary...
His hand approached my page of notes. "What it's going to be? What did she just say?" I thought.
"Lint" became "Lent" on my sheet of lined paper.
1st thought- BAHAHAHHAAAAAA.
2nd thought- Duh.
3rd thought- He's right... again.
Honestly, I hadn't thought about the season of Lent until small group last night.
According to the always-right Wikipedia (sense the sarcasm there), Lent is:
In past years, I've given up things like chocolate, checking email more than once a day, and drinking soda. I've never had the urge to do something like "give up Facebook" and I simply couldn't "give up Pinterest." (What would we eat? What would we craft? Oh, the horror!)
What I took away from the conversation last night was different, however, from the usual "What am I going to sacrifice this year?" thought process. For the first time, ever, I was more focused on "What am I going to put in this new-found time in my day or space in my brain?"
The question was asked, "What's keeping me from my first love, Jesus Christ?" Quite simply, what isn't? I'm selfish. I'm tired. I'm busy. I'm sinful.
What am I willing to give up? What am I being called to put down so that I can voluntarily enter the desert wilderness and commune with my Savior?
The Hubby and I have decided to give up Netflix. Sounds silly, but we watch a lot. of. Netflix. In my laziness, I will miss the few hours each evening spent snacking on the couch watching "Mad Men," "Downton Abby," or "Cheers;" however, I cannot wait for some e
It was such a great small group gathering. A girlfriend was sharing some sweet thoughts she gleaned from a sermon at her old church. I was writing, writing, writing... and then, as commonly happens, The Hubby stole my pen. "Oh, she's said something that's struck a cord with him," I thought.
On the contrary...
His hand approached my page of notes. "What it's going to be? What did she just say?" I thought.
"Lint" became "Lent" on my sheet of lined paper.
1st thought- BAHAHAHHAAAAAA.
2nd thought- Duh.
3rd thought- He's right... again.
Honestly, I hadn't thought about the season of Lent until small group last night.
According to the always-right Wikipedia (sense the sarcasm there), Lent is:
"... the penitential preparation of the believer—through prayer, penance, repentance, almsgiving, and self-denial. Its institutional purpose is heightened in the annual commemoration of Holy Week, marking the Death and Resurrection of Jesus, which recalls the events of the Passion of Christ on Good Friday, which then culminates in the celebration on Easter Sunday of the Resurrection of Jesus Christ."
In past years, I've given up things like chocolate, checking email more than once a day, and drinking soda. I've never had the urge to do something like "give up Facebook" and I simply couldn't "give up Pinterest." (What would we eat? What would we craft? Oh, the horror!)
What I took away from the conversation last night was different, however, from the usual "What am I going to sacrifice this year?" thought process. For the first time, ever, I was more focused on "What am I going to put in this new-found time in my day or space in my brain?"
The question was asked, "What's keeping me from my first love, Jesus Christ?" Quite simply, what isn't? I'm selfish. I'm tired. I'm busy. I'm sinful.
What am I willing to give up? What am I being called to put down so that I can voluntarily enter the desert wilderness and commune with my Savior?
The Hubby and I have decided to give up Netflix. Sounds silly, but we watch a lot. of. Netflix. In my laziness, I will miss the few hours each evening spent snacking on the couch watching "Mad Men," "Downton Abby," or "Cheers;" however, I cannot wait for some e
Feb 14, 2012
The explosion
I am going to attempt to summarize what just happened, but rest assured, I can do it NO justice. There really are no words to express the way, as The Hubby said, "God just exploded out of the box I had put Him in."
"Hope at the Cove" became "Hope in my heart."
Hope that God follows through on promises.
Hope that prayers of the faithful are powerful and effective.
Hope that Jesus fills all voids, with no discrimination.
Hope that the Holy Spirit's indwelling can lead to incredible richness.
Hope that God can, and will, use his people in Mighty Ways... if we just get out of the way!
I saw my friends, our small group, my brothers and sisters in Christ-- BEING the body of Christ. It's no coincidence we were studying 1 Corinthians 12 in BSF this week. I got to see it LIVED OUT.
"Now you are the body of Christ, and each one of you is apart of it. And in the church God has appointed first of all apostles, second prophets, third teachers, then workers of miracles, also those having fits of healing, those able to help others, those with gifts of administration, and those speaking in different kinds of tongues. Are all apostles? Are all prophets? Are all teachers? Do all work miracles? Do all have gifts of healing? Do all speak in tongues? Do all interpret? But eagerly desire the greater gifts." -1 Cor. 12: 27-31
I prayed for opportunities to grow relationships beyond this evening... that this banquet would be a spring board. But what? What can I do with these new friends and share the love of Jesus? The first words from a gal I sat with, "I like your scarf." HA! Yes! I see a late-evening-scarf-making-coffee-drinking-treat-enjoying event on the horizon. THANK YOU, LORD!
I prayed for hearts to be moved. Then, I sat at a table with one gal, and five men-- most of whom were mid-40s or older. As our friend got up to introduce the group games, the Holy Spirit just poured out of him. He said to the crowd, "We have been praying for you. We love you, and this night is not just one event. It's the start of a long-term relationship. You're going to get sick of us." And then he paused, "You don't receive enough recognition." The gal at my table said, "That's nice to hear-- I'm getting choked up." And then he said, "God sees you." And with that we all-- including the five guys-- wiped tears from our cheeks. Hearts were moved. THANK YOU, LORD!
I even prayed that this evening wouldn't be a burden on our sweet babysitter. When we got home, she told me that she had enough quiet time to get all of her homework done for the whole week. THANK YOU, LORD!
God is so BIG! And yet, even in His unmatchable majesty, he cares about the "little things" like our babysitters 7th grade homework. I just want to keep following hard after Him!
One of the gals asked how she could get to our church on Sunday. "Do you have a bus?" We do now!
Another guy said we should come and lead chapel one night. Yes, please!
Oh, Lord, my heart is overflowing. We don't deserve to be a part of this, but thank you thank you thank you for counting us worthy of this calling.
May we show them, and ourselves, that YOU, JESUS, are the only thing that gives worth.
I keep singing the words to Paul Baloche's "What Can I Do?"--
What can I do but thank You,
What can I do but give my life to You
Hallelujah, hallelujah
What can I do but praise You,
Everyday make everything I do a hallelujah
A hallelujah, hallelujah
HALLELUJAH!
"Hope at the Cove" became "Hope in my heart."
Hope that God follows through on promises.
Hope that prayers of the faithful are powerful and effective.
Hope that Jesus fills all voids, with no discrimination.
Hope that the Holy Spirit's indwelling can lead to incredible richness.
Hope that God can, and will, use his people in Mighty Ways... if we just get out of the way!
I saw my friends, our small group, my brothers and sisters in Christ-- BEING the body of Christ. It's no coincidence we were studying 1 Corinthians 12 in BSF this week. I got to see it LIVED OUT.
"Now you are the body of Christ, and each one of you is apart of it. And in the church God has appointed first of all apostles, second prophets, third teachers, then workers of miracles, also those having fits of healing, those able to help others, those with gifts of administration, and those speaking in different kinds of tongues. Are all apostles? Are all prophets? Are all teachers? Do all work miracles? Do all have gifts of healing? Do all speak in tongues? Do all interpret? But eagerly desire the greater gifts." -1 Cor. 12: 27-31
I prayed for opportunities to grow relationships beyond this evening... that this banquet would be a spring board. But what? What can I do with these new friends and share the love of Jesus? The first words from a gal I sat with, "I like your scarf." HA! Yes! I see a late-evening-scarf-making-coffee-drinking-treat-enjoying event on the horizon. THANK YOU, LORD!
I prayed for hearts to be moved. Then, I sat at a table with one gal, and five men-- most of whom were mid-40s or older. As our friend got up to introduce the group games, the Holy Spirit just poured out of him. He said to the crowd, "We have been praying for you. We love you, and this night is not just one event. It's the start of a long-term relationship. You're going to get sick of us." And then he paused, "You don't receive enough recognition." The gal at my table said, "That's nice to hear-- I'm getting choked up." And then he said, "God sees you." And with that we all-- including the five guys-- wiped tears from our cheeks. Hearts were moved. THANK YOU, LORD!
I even prayed that this evening wouldn't be a burden on our sweet babysitter. When we got home, she told me that she had enough quiet time to get all of her homework done for the whole week. THANK YOU, LORD!
God is so BIG! And yet, even in His unmatchable majesty, he cares about the "little things" like our babysitters 7th grade homework. I just want to keep following hard after Him!
One of the gals asked how she could get to our church on Sunday. "Do you have a bus?" We do now!
Another guy said we should come and lead chapel one night. Yes, please!
Oh, Lord, my heart is overflowing. We don't deserve to be a part of this, but thank you thank you thank you for counting us worthy of this calling.
May we show them, and ourselves, that YOU, JESUS, are the only thing that gives worth.
I keep singing the words to Paul Baloche's "What Can I Do?"--
What can I do but thank You,
What can I do but give my life to You
Hallelujah, hallelujah
What can I do but praise You,
Everyday make everything I do a hallelujah
A hallelujah, hallelujah
HALLELUJAH!
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