Breath of Life

Around the House: January

2012-01-17T05:00:00.000-05:00

I retrieved the package from the doorstep, glancing at the return address. My man wasn't home, but I couldn't wait. I eagerly tore the heavy cardboard, my heart thumping wildly within my chest. And there it was, the last 18 months of our lives enveloped in a regal navy cover with silvery words sprawling. I opened it carefully so as not to disturb the beauty of this moment, almost sacred.

The small ceremony and the surprise celebration had heralded its coming. But staring at his name in majestic calligraphy, the finality struck somewhere deep.

My man did this.

We did this.

God did this.

This is the LORD's doing; it is marvelous in our eyes. ~Psalm 118:23

*****************

In these first days of a new year - a new life - I am:

~enjoying evenings unencumbered by a college student's papers and projects

~committing to two social-media-free days per week. My soul needs space to breathe, to watch

~listening to the poetry of Gilead: A Novelas I drive by empty fields under a canopy of grey sky

~captivated by Masterpiece Classic: Downton Abbey

~growing accustomed to having a daughter taller than I and a man who leaves home each morning headed to work. I praise the Lord for both.

~wondering how best to revamp our garden in the spring

~savoring the fruits of the summer's labor and finding it hard to suppress a smile every time I open a jar of tomato sauce, green beans, or apple sauce

~planning a week at home to, once again, purge my home of things and find more room to breathe

And, of course, continuing to watch...

Learning to Watch

2012-01-11T05:00:00.000-05:00

I start work tomorrow.

It came so suddenly, words failed me. The Year of Watching was only 5 days old.

Five days.

My reaction was a mixture of happiness and sorrow. Circumstances left no doubt of God's provision and His grace. And yet...

For more than two years, this old life - filled with frustrations, prayers, complete and utter dependence on God - has defined us. The realization that I wasn't ready to leave it behind rushed over me, scalding hot.

It's over.

No trumpets. No fanfare. A quiet end to the most difficult and faith-filled thing I have ever done.

And I find myself not ready to say goodbye.

Fear that I will never again be this close to the Lord churns within me, for I know my wicked heart. Two days after my man started work, I'd conjured a long mental list of items that I needed to purchase. It mocked me just as sure as if I'd written it in permanent black ink on my hand and laid my sin bare for all the world to see.

I've tried to find security in money and possessions. I do not want to go back there.

Oh, Lord, give me grace not to go back there!

And with that plea, The Year of Watching takes on new meaning.

Becky spurs me on with powerful words from Thomas Brooks:

Watchfulness includes a waking, a rousing up of the soul. It is a continual, careful observing of our hearts and ways, in all the turnings of our lives—that we still keep close to God and his Word.

Watching my heart and ways.

Inspired by Persis, I am reading through The Good News We Almost Forgot: Rediscovering the Gospel in a 16th Century Catechism on each Lord's Day this year. It, too, sharpens, convicts, and encourages.

When we think of living and dying in comfort, we imagine La-Z-Boy recliners, back rubs, and all the food you can eat (with none of the pounds, of course). But the Catechism has in mind a different kind of comfort, one that is deeper, higher, richer, and sweeter. We find this comfort by admitting our sin, instead of excusing it; by trusting in Another instead of ourselves; and by living to give thanks instead of being thanked. (Page 23)

I ache for comfort that is deeper, higher, richer, and sweeter. I am overwhelmed by my need for Jehovah Tsidkenu.

...true, lasting consolation can only come to those who know of their need to be consoled. (Page 25)

My need is cavernous. My depravity, infinite. And yet there is grace upon grace, as I learn what it means to truly watch.

2012: The Year of Watching

2011-12-28T05:00:00.000-05:00

Christmas has come and gone, but we are still watching. Watching not for the Babe in the manger, but for Jehovah Jireh.

And we have seen the work of His hands.

One week after our benefits were terminated, the One who is Faithful and True has sustained us far more abundantly than our petitions and thoughts. My feeble faith is no match for Him. His goodness has reduced me to tears time and time again in these recent weeks.

I can't believe this is me, living this life and walking this path. If I think about it too long, I panic. Then I remember

Keep watching...

I think back on the first yearly theme, which prepared us to leave our old life. We didn't know it then, but He did. The themes have formed the foundation for this season.

2008 was the Year of Peace & Simplicity
2009 was the Year of Trust & Obedience
2010 was the Year of Faith & Freedom
2011 was the Year of Giving

2012 will be the Year of Watching

I'm looking forward the blessing of sharing it with you.

Now to him who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever. Amen. ~Ephesians 3:20-21, ESV

Christmas is for the Watchers

2011-12-23T05:00:00.000-05:00

I light the candles scattered among our nativities, and my soul whispers the familiar word that dominates my thoughts.

Watch...

As our family keeps watch, I consider how that first Christmas was for the watchers.

Joseph, watching for a roof to shelter his betrothed, great with child. Watching for a place fitting to birth the Prince of Peace. Weariness from the journey did not deter him. This night - this holy night - was for watching in awe as the Creator came to His creation, helpless and tiny.

Mary, keeping watch over her newborn son and pondering the miraculous in her heart. Her song was sung long before. She praised God before her delivery. She praised God before her deliverance. This night - this silent night - was for watching over the Lord of All.

Shepherds, watching over their flocks that night. They worked though all of Israel groaned with the years of waiting to hear from God. Carrying out their duties as usual, not knowing that their lives were about to be radically changed. Not men of much learning, but wise enough to leave the work behind and follow the Lord's proclamation. This night - this glorious night - was for watching God keep His promise in the most unexpected of ways.

Magi, watching the brightest star appear in the sky. At just the right time, it appeared to herald the incomparable work of God. Though they didn't have the Scriptures, they couldn't deny Him. They left everything behind to find Him. This night - this wondrous night - was for watching God's brilliance overtake the darkness.

I watch the flames flicker, shadows dancing over the birth scenes. Despite Joseph's weariness, Mary's weakness, and the disappointing circumstances they found upon their arrival in Bethlehem - despite it all, God came.

And the world, not watching, missed it.

I close my eyes, think long about my own weariness, weakness, and disappointing circumstances. Then I glance again at the Babe, and I remember that God will come.

And so I keep watching.

Leaving Another Old Life

2011-12-15T06:00:00.000-05:00

The books and the back pack have been stored away, for good. My mind wanders back to 18 months ago, when a hard hat and steel-toed shoes were relegated to our past - we hoped, for good.

Here we are again, shedding the skin of an old life. One we'd grown comfortable in. One that brought hardships and pain, but also blessings and joy. Each scar runs deep, a permanent mark.

The flesh that was our identity these past 18 months is gone.

We are naked.

I am terrified.

This new flesh is tender, feels raw under the harsh elements of the world.

Did Jesus bristle at the hay in the manger the way I find myself bristling at having to do this - the watching and waiting - all over again?

Did He pause for a moment, hesitant to leave the beauty and comforts of Heaven for this fallen world, as I am hesitant to leave the comforts of the known?

I beg the Lord for sustaining grace, desperate for Him to quiet the cries within my spirit.

I ponder the story of His birth, each participant beckoning to me in a unique way. There, in the Word, I find solace...

...and strength to keep watching.

A River in the Desert

2011-12-13T07:38:00.002-05:00

From my quiet time last week...

God often delays in answering prayer. We have several instances of this in the Bible. Jacob did not get the blessing from the angel until near the dawn of day - he had to wrestle all night for it. The poor woman of Syrophoenicia received no answer for a long while. Paul asked the Lord three times for "a thorn...in the flesh" to be taken from him, and he received no assurance that it would be removed, but instead a promise that God's grace would be sufficient for him. If you have been knocking at the gate of mercy and have received no answer, shall I tell you why the mighty Maker has not opened the door and let you in? Our Father has personal reasons for keeping us waiting. Sometimes it is to show His power and His sovereignty, so that we may learn that God has a right to give or to withhold. More often the delay is for our benefit. You are perhaps kept waiting in order that your desires may be more fervent. God knows that delay will quicken and increase desire, and that if He keeps you waiting, you will see your need more clearly and will seek more diligently, and that you will treasure the mercy all the more on account of the wait. There may also be something wrong in you that needs to be removed before the joy of the Lord is given. Perhaps your views of the gospel plan are confused, or you may be relying upon yourself instead of trusting simply and entirely in the Lord Jesus. Or God makes you wait for a while so that He may display the riches of His grace more abundantly in the end. Your prayers are all filed in heaven, and if not immediately answered they are certainly not forgotten, but in a little while they will be fulfilled to your delight and satisfaction. Do not allow despair to make you silent, but continue to present your requests to God.
~ Spurgeon's Morning & Evening (December 9th)

And so, we continue to wait...and watch.

A Sweet Reminder

2011-12-08T05:30:00.000-05:00

What God did when he sent his Son into the world is an absolute guarantee that he will do everything he has ever promised to do. Look at it in a personal sense: "All things work together for good to them that love God" - that is a promise - "to them who are called according to his purpose" (Romans 8:28, KJV). "But how can I know that is true for me?" asks someone. The answer is the incarnation. God has given the final proof that all his promises are sure, that he is faithful to everything he has ever said. So that promise is sure for you. Whatever your state or condition may be, whatever may happen to you, he has said, "I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee" (Heb. 13:5, KJV) - and he will not. He has said so, and we have absolute proof that he fulfills his promises. He does not always do it immediately in the way that we think. No, no! But he does it! And he will never fail to do it. ~Martin Lloyd-Jones

*Excerpted from Come, Thou Long Expected Jesus

Taking comfort in this sweet reminder today, and continuing to watch...

Keeping Watch

2011-11-29T05:00:00.000-05:00

The Advent Altar occupies the kitchen corner, fresh candles and a new Advent resource alongside the familiar wreath and the small nativity. I carefully write last year's message on the board, reminding us to Prepare...our home and our hearts.

Yet this year, there is a new message on my heart. Its whispers, deep in my spirit, nearly reach my ears. It dominates my thoughts and I hold fast to it.

I erase last year's message and painstakingly write this single command,

Watch.

Watch for the Redeemer made incarnate.

Watch for the unexpected.

Watch for the miraculous.

Set aside the distractions and just watch.

In this season of celebrating the Babe in a manger, I find myself watching for Immanuel, God with us.

Watching for His guidance, as my husband graduates from college.

Watching for His plan, as we continue to search for a job.

Watching for His grace, as the benefits we counted on are cut.

Watching for His provision, as our savings dwindle and our income is once again drastically reduced.

And so while we wait, we watch.

O my Strength, I will watch for you,
for you, O God, are my fortress.

~Psalm 59:9 (ESV)

Flooded

2011-11-11T05:00:00.000-05:00

Reading these posts, I am flooded.

Flooded by memories

of caramel-colored children...their beautiful faces beaming despite their circumstances.

of run-down shanties,,,too numerous to count.

of proud young soldiers...realizing their need for Christ.

of the pieces of my heart...left on another continent.

Flooded by tears

as I look at the photographs

as I look back at my own

Then they also will answer, saying, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not minister to you?' Then he will answer them, saying, 'Truly, I say to you, as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.'

~Matthew 25:44-45 (ESV)

It's Not About Me

2011-11-03T06:00:00.000-04:00

The blog has been dormant for almost a month. Writing has taken a back seat to living. The days have been filled with being a helpmeet and a mother. The stock pot and canning pot have been hard at work again and the freezers are brimming with food prepared for the winter. I am ready to nestle in this, my favorite of seasons.

Yet there is much to do. R will graduate next month. I cannot wrap my brain around that sentence. This season in our lives is nearly over, another one, yet unknown, peeks its head over the horizon. We are back to waiting. I'd forgotten how painful waiting can be. I'm seeing signs of nerves rubbed raw and I nearly crumble at the thought. I've gone back through the archives to relive our journey and to remind myself that God is faithful. Victory is coming, though I confess I don't like not knowing how or when. I try to be content with just knowing it's out there. I remind myself how gracious God has been these past two years.

Yes, two years. We'd talked about the approaching date, seeing it there on the calendar and marveling at the amount of time gone by. It was a fleeting thought, soon buried under a mountain of homework, chores, and daily routines. When we didn't think about it again until the date had passed, I realized that we no longer define our life in terms of one event. That it did not destroy us, but that God has used it to display His glory. Oh! how I pray we have pointed to Him through this!

Two recent worship experiences have made me wonder about that. The first, a worship service in another church that was so completely God-centered it astounded me. I left that place with an ache in my heart, a longing for what I've been missing. The second, a challenge from a friend to pay attention to our worship songs - do we sing more about ourselves than God? I went into service with that thought swirling through my mind. After one chorus, I knew the answer. Even a chorus that proclaims to be getting back to the heart of worship is about man. Determined NOT to sing about myself, I listened for true worship songs. Singing just those songs brought me to a place of worship I had not known for longer than I care to admit. I saw how paltry my worship offerings have been.

And so once again I wrestle with blogging. I am keenly aware that any attempts I make here to magnify Him are small - miniscule, really - in comparison to what He has done. Words cannot describe it and I feel foolish even trying. But should I give up? I honestly don't know.

I do know that I don't want this blog to be about me. In this world of unending self-promotion, I want praise the One who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the form of a servant,being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. (Philippians 2:6-8, ESV)

I will continue to take up this corner in the blogosphere, tiny as it may be. And I hope you'll continue to join me, even if our meetings are few and far between.

On Her 13th Birthday

2011-10-07T09:33:00.001-04:00

When they placed her on my chest, I couldn't hold her. Anesthesia numbed my limbs and my brain. Somewhere in the fog, my Dad cared for me while my husband cared for his new girl. I still remember the tears that brightened his eyes. The smile that showed his joy, masking his uncertainty. The weight of this new responsibility heavy upon his shoulders.

He held her first.

Unlike most babies, she said "Mama" first. But she's still a Daddy's girl. Thirteen years later, that bond they forged there in the hospital nursery is stronger than ever. He still gets teary-eyed over her. The smile is still full of joy and uncertainty. The weight of raising a teenage girl in these times, heavy.

He's never let go.

**********

Before she was born, I thought I knew much about being a parent. Today, as I think over the first thirteen years of her life, I realize I only know two things for certain.

The days are long, but the years are short. Thirteen years have passed by in a blur. I had no idea life would move so fast.

Time is growing shorter. Soon, she'll be leaving our home. I must use the time we have left wisely. I am so incredibly thankful that God can - and will - work in her life to make up for my insufficiency. (I'm learning much from this book.)

**********

These thirteen years of being her mother have brought depths of joy and pain I cannot describe. They have humbled me in ways I could not have imagined. They have changed my life.

I thank God for each and every day He's allowed me to be her mother. I pray He'll allow many more.

Thankful Thursday

2011-10-06T09:42:00.001-04:00

Praising God for:

~medical professionals who listen thoughtfully

~13 years with my beautiful girl. We celebrate her birthday tomorrow

~CJ's willingness to fast on her birthday as part of the 30 Hour Famine

~the prayers of friends...always sweet and always necessary

~the beauty of His creation. A storm coming in over the ocean. The pounding of the waves. The majesty of an eagle in flight. Incredible to watch this week.

~traveling mercies

~His forgiveness and grace for a wretch like me

If you fix deep in your understanding the natural goodness of God, even this will fall far short of God’s actual graciousness.
~Richard Baxter

Thankful Thursday

2011-09-29T09:37:00.001-04:00

Praising God for:

~long-awaited & much-needed answers

~cooler temperatures in the forecast

~friends who bow their hearts and knees to the Father on my behalf.

~a husband who loves me, even when I am selfish, ungracious, and unkind

~the mercy of God & the atonement for my selfishness, ungraciousness and unkindness. Jesus paid it all, all to Him I owe!

~the conviction of God regarding my place of service to Him and to my husband

~the upcoming turn of the calendar page. One step closer to December and college graduation!

~His sovereignty, and the peace that gives. Although, I confess I need to keep reminding myself of it so that I don't give in to the temptation to micromanage our current circumstances.

~music floating through the air in our home as CJ practices the piano

*Banner HT: Hollie

Autumn Bible Study: Ruth

2011-09-21T05:30:00.000-04:00

I've read the Book of Ruth many times over the years. Filled with the stuff fairy tales are made of, this book has always captivated me. Lately I've been digging deeper into the story of the woman grafted into the lineage of Jesus, using Esther and Ruth (Reformed Expository Commentary) and Ruth: Loss, Love, & Legacy. It's a slow, deliberate, and fascinating journey.

And too good not to share.

Later this week, I'll begin blogging through Ruth. I hope you'll grab your Bibles and a cup of coffee and dive into God's Word with me.

Savoring...

2011-09-16T05:00:00.000-04:00

~football season

~Sunday mornings with my 7th & 8th grade girls

~Esther and Ruth (Reformed Expository Commentary).

~rows of canning jars, filled with ruby red tomato sauce, bright green beans, and sunshine peaches

~Chris Tomlin's Arriving. This is the only CD of his that I own. It's years old, but the songs are incredible.

~Morning and Evening: A New Edition of the Classic Devotional Based on The Holy Bible, English Standard Version. It's especially sweet to read this with my man before we turn out the lights each night.

~Yogi Peach Detox Tea

~Brown Cow Yogurt

~the last of the garden bounty. Tomatoes and eggplant have fallen to a trickle, so each new find is a treat.

~memories of a weekend with dear friends and worship at Capitol Hill Baptist Church

~the thought of bringing out the autumn decorations this weekend

What are you savoring these days?

This Man

2011-09-14T07:21:00.001-04:00

This man receives sinners. - Luke 15:2

Observe the condescension of this fact. Jesus, holy, harmless, undefiled, and separate from sinners, who towers above all other men - this Man receives sinners. This Man, who is no other than the eternal God, before whom angels veil their faces - this Man receives sinners. It requires an angel's tongue to describe such a mighty stoop of love. That any of us would be willing to reach the lost is nothing wonderful - they are, after all, our own race; but that He, the offended God, against whom the transgression has been committed, should take upon Himself the form of a servant and bear the sin of many and be willing to receive the worst of sinners - this is marvelous.

-Charles Spurgeon

Morning and Evening

(Evening, September 13th)

Autumn Upon Us

2011-09-13T05:00:00.000-04:00

The canning pot is temporarily resting, in anticipation of apples and pears that will soon arrive. The kitchen table has been converted to CJ's study area. A laptop and a stack of books rest on the dining table more often than not. We slip back into the routine that my soul needs. Autumn - with its crisp days, candle-lit evenings, and brilliant hues - is soon due. Anticipation of its arrival washes over me.

My girl has started her third and final year of middle school. I think back to the beginning of her first year. We were coasting along in life, blissfully unaware that our world was about to be turned upside down. I remember how God brought us through the initial shock, and how He helped us prepare for a new life. I can't help but think of last year, as she started her second year of middle school while we were adjusting to R being back in college. I recall how hard that first semester was, and offer yet another thanks to God for His precious grace.

And so we stand, at the beginning of the end. In three short months, we'll be celebrating a graduation and, Lord willing, a new job. Trepidation threatens to creep back into my days. Yet I know whom I have believed, and I am trusting, trusting...

Lessons from a Hurricane

2011-09-02T05:00:00.001-04:00

Our town in no stranger to storms. In 1999, Hurricane Floyd brought devastation by water. In 2003, Hurricane Isabel's winds felled 100 year old pines and carved paths through neighborhoods. In 2006, an unnamed storm brought more flooding.

Hurricane Irene left much damage in her wake. Here in Virginia, the scenes aren't as grim as in New Jersey and Vermont. We have much to be thankful for. As normal life resumes, I think on the lessons I learned over the past few days. They are things to be pondered on, tucked away in my heart for safekeeping, and hopefully lived out in sunny days as well as rainy ones.

I've been reminded that procrastination is not a virtue. I completed many of the items on my list prior to Irene's arrival, but left some chores until Saturday morning. When the electricity (and with it, the water) went out at hours earlier than expected, I was caught by surprise. Thankfully, our most important preparations were complete. Still, things at home would have been better if I had been more diligent.

I've learned my home relies heavily on water and electricity. I won't pretend we were roughing it, since we had a generator to provide lights and keep our freezers going. Still, there were so many things I couldn't do for the 4 days we didn't have power and water. I was forced to stop procrastinating and organize my desk and R's study area. We'll be getting CJ's area together this weekend (our Labor Day weekend tradition).

I've learned how distracting modern conveniences and technology can be. I enjoyed the break from television and internet (our cable company was down). We played games. We navigated past fallen trees to visit friends and family. We talked to our neighbors. We went to the park to play with a friend's children. No Facebook updates, no Google Reader, and no constant information stream jostling for our attention. It was actually very pleasant.

I've learned to love my family even more. There's something about huddling together inside while the rain and wind blow fiercely outside, camping out together in the living room (where it was coolest), and working together in less-than-ideal circumstances that draw you even closer together. There is no one on this planet who I love more than my man and my girl.

I've learned how desperate my own depravity is. In the midst of all of this, I too often found my thoughts focused on how inconvenienced I was rather than worrying with what others might be going through or trusting God's sovereignty.

I've learned that still I have so much more than I need. Surrounded by things I couldn't use, moving others to make room for extension cords and water jugs, I was a little overwhelmed by the things I still cling to. I think Autumn nesting will bring another purge.

I've learned, again, how blessed I am. With a husband who took major pains to prepare our home for the worst, a boss who let us invade his home to take hot showers and do laundry, and friends across the country and the Atlantic Ocean who kept check on us...I'm one blessed woman.

I've learned that who we are in every day life is who we are in the midst of a storm. It doesn't matter if it's trusting God, being selfish, or showing kindness and compassion, how we live in the good times prepares us for how we live in the bad.

I've learned, again, that God is totally and completely sovereign. Saturday's evening devotion from Morning and Evening(while the hurricane was churning):

Into Your hand I commit my spirit; you have redeemed me, O Lord, Faithful God (Psalm 31:5)

The object of a believer's interest in life and death is not his body or his possessions, but his spirit; this is his choice treasure: If this is safe, then all is well...At all times we should commit everything to Jesus' faithful hand; then even if life should hang on a thread, and difficulties multiply like the sands of the sea, our soul shall life in safety and delight itself in quiet resting places.

And yesterday morning's:

In seasons of severe trial the Christian has nothing on earth that he can trust, and so he is compelled to cast himself on God alone. When his vessel is capsizing, and no human deliverance is at hand, he must simply and entirely trust himself to the providence and care of God. Happy storm that wrecks a man on such a rock as this! O blessed hurricane that drives the soul to God and God alone!

His timing was perfect. Then there were the prayers of precious friends, who were asking that the river surrounding our town crest below predictions. I'd told them I thought 16 feet was safe. They prayed, and the predictions dropped to 16 feet! One of the gals said she'd pray for 15. The river crested at 14.7 feet. I never stopped being amazed at God.

And so, life continues. R has returned to school. I've returned to work. CJ is preparing for 8th grade and I'm still wondering when that happened. Things are back to normal, but I'm praying these lessons will stay with me for a long time to come.

What's on My Nightstand - August

2011-08-23T05:00:00.005-04:00

August days are waning. Mercifully, the temperatures drop ever so slightly, hinting at cooler days ahead. Tomatoes will soon give way to apples. Shades of green will melt into brilliant hues of orange and red. Cool evenings under the reading quilt are nearing. I am giddy with anticipation.

Since last month,

I've completed:

~Snow Flower and the Secret Fan. This story of unusual friendship in ancient China was beautiful and haunting at the same time.

~Saving CeeCee Honeycutt. A friend passed this Southern charmer along to me. I thoroughly enjoyed it.

~The Help. I had concerns that the book wouldn't live up to the hype, but it did.

~Unbroken: A World War II Story of Survival, Resilience, and Redemption (audio). One of the best books I've ever "read". I've found myself cringing, getting goosebumps, and laughing through tears as I've listened to the true story of Louis Zamperini, a 1936 Olympian who survived a plane crash at sea and 2 years as a Japanese POW in WWII.

I've tried:

~The Next Story: Life and Faith after the Digital Explosion. I decided to put this one down for now in favor of Tim Challies' first book, which I had not read.

~Snow Falling on Cedars. This one didn't grab me as much I'd hoped, so I returned it to the library after a few chapters.

I've picked up:

~The Discipline of Spiritual Discernment (Kindle). I had been wanting to read this book by Tim Challies for a while, and decided there was no time like the present.

~Emma. It's been far too long since I've read any Jane!

I'll soon be starting:

~Abigail Adams (audio). I haven't read anything about the Revolutionary War era in a while, and this biography piqued my interest.

~Give Them Grace: Dazzling Your Kids with the Love of Jesus

I'm constantly looking to:

~Spurgeon's Morning and Evening

~Matthew Henry's Method For Prayer

~Valley of Vision: A collection of Puritan Prayers & Devotions

~Paul Tripp's A Shelter in the Time of Storm: Meditations on God and Trouble

You can click on over to 5 Minutes for Books to see what others are reading.

Fifth Day Morning - The Giver

2011-07-28T09:51:00.000-04:00

CREATOR, UPHOLDER AND PROPRIETOR OF ALL THINGS,

We cannot escape from thy presence and control,

nor do we desire to do so.

Our privilege is to be under the agency of thy omnipotence,

righteousness, wisdom, patience, mercy and grace;

For thou art Love with more than parental affection.

We admire thy goodness,

stand in awe of thy power,

abuse ourselves before thy purity.

It is the discovery of thy goodness alone

that can banish our fear

allure us into thy presence,

help us to bewail and confess our sins.

We review our past guilt

and are conscious of present unworthiness.

We bless thee that thy steadfast love and attributes

are essential to our happiness and hope;

Thou hast witnessed to us thy grace and mercy

in the bounties of nature,

in the fullness of thy providence,

in the revelations of Scripture,

in the gift of thy Son,

in the proclamation of the gospel.

Make us willing to be saved in thy own way,

perceiving nothing in ourselves but all in Jesus.

Help us not only to receive him

but to walk in him,

depend upon him,

commune with him,

follow him as dear children,

imperfect, but still pressing forward,

not complaining of labour, but valuing rest,

not murmuring under trials, but thankful for our state.

And by so doing let us silence the ignorance of foolish men.

~Valley of Vision: A collection of Puritan Prayers & Devotions

(p. 215, emphasis mine)

What's on My Nightstand - July

2011-07-26T06:00:00.004-04:00

Although summer days are long, they don't leave much time for reading. I carefully select a few books to keep me company when I can no longer bear the heat. Limited time causes me to be more discriminating in my choices, which makes reading more enjoyable and beneficial.

Since last month,

I've completed:

~March (audio). Exquisite prose is the mark of this captivating story. I was hooked from the first pages.

~A Place for Weakness: Preparing Yourself for Suffering (Kindle). Michael Horton's insight on suffering and what it means for the Christian is outstanding.

~Soul Surfer: A True Story of Faith, Family, and Fighting to Get Back on the Board. CJ wanted me to read this with her. An encouraging story, to say the least. Bethany Hamilton is a strong role model for young women.

~The Organized Heart: A Woman's Guide to Conquering Chaos (Kindle) This is a powerful book that is far from the ordinary "how to" organizing fare. Staci Eastin has spoken directly to my heart. While I've done much to improve the organization in my home the past few years, I've learned there are still some heart issues to be addressed.

I've tried:

~The Rural Life. I liked this book. I put it down because it's one that's easy to come back to. For some reason, I think of it as more of an Autumn read.

I've picked up:

~What Is a Healthy Church Member? (IX Marks). A short, but impressive read.

~Snow Flower and the Secret Fan. I'm just getting into this one.

I'll soon be starting:

~Unbroken: A World War II Story of Survival, Resilience, and Redemption (Audio). Just waiting for the library to get it to me!

~The Next Story: Life and Faith after the Digital Explosion. I'm pretty sure this one is going to be worth my while.

~The Help. I'm probably one of the last women in the country to read this book. I'm finally going to get around to it.

Visit 5 Minutes for Books to see what others are reading.

Thankful Thursday

2011-07-21T10:50:00.000-04:00

This week, I am particularly thankful for:

~The wonderful group of college women in my church family. They are beautiful inside and out, and I've thoroughly enjoyed leading them in Bible study and just hanging out with them.

~Garden bounty and the local farmer's market. Preserving it all requires quite a bit of work, but I know we'll be enjoying it for months to come.

~Air conditioning. Temperatures here are expected to reach triple digits this week.

~Extended periods of feeling better. I'm still not 100%, but I have hope that I will be.

Falling

2011-07-20T06:00:00.004-04:00

It's been a while since you posted on your blog, my husband remarked.

My posting has been sporadic, at best. Perhaps I'm growing tired of my tiny corner of the internet. Perhaps I'm hiding from guilt of knowing that the life I portray here is more often the woman I want to be rather than who I actually am. I long to be an authentic worshiper of my Sovereign God, a woman who thinks deeply and loves fiercely.

I fall so terribly short.

I read what other women write, and I am ashamed that I cannot speak with the same knowledge and eloquence. Even my comments are not particularly thoughtful. Words, which have long been my friend, are no longer easily found.

I fall silent.

My hands are occupied with pursuits beyond the keyboard. Turning the pages of a good book. Teaching 5-year olds in Vacation Bible School. Preserving the fruits of our garden labor. Splashing my girl in the pool. Clapping to cheer my man on in softball.

I fall into bed exhausted.

Yet in all this falling, I'm grateful my life is shored up by the One who will never let me fall from His grasp.

My soul will be satisfied as with fat and rich food,
and my mouth will praise you with joyful lips,
when I remember you upon my bed,
and meditate on you in the watches of the night;
for you have been my help,
and in the shadow of your wings I will sing for joy.
My soul clings to you;
your right hand upholds me.
~Psalm 63:5-8

What's on My Nightstand - June

2011-06-28T09:23:00.000-04:00

Cucumber and squash plants heavy with their fruit clamor for my attention. The tomatoes will soon follow. The cool clear water of the pool beckons. The friendly fellowship of church softball games, too inviting to ignore.

Books lie nearly forlorn on my nightstand.

Since last month

I've completed:

~Bonhoeffer: Pastor, Martyr, Prophet, Spy (audio). A long, but fascinating read. I admit, I probably never would have finished it if it hadn't been for the audio book. I'm glad I did.

~Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet (audio) Oh, how I loved the tender story of Henry & Keiko!

~The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie: A Flavia de Luce Mystery. Flavia de Luce is a delight!

I've tried:

~The Sisters from Hardscrabble Bay. I didn't get past the first few pages. I had looked forward to this one, but I could not get past the repetitious foul language.

~Reading Lolita in Tehran: A Memoir in Books. This one didn't grab me, either. I may try again later.

~Mansfield Park (audio). I love the story of Fannie Price, but I'd rather read it than listen to it. I prefer to listen to narrative stories, rather than one person tackling many character's voices in dialogue.

I've picked up:

~March (audio). The story of Mr. March, the absent father in Little Women. It's a story full of beautiful prose, heartache and humor.

~The Rural Life. Rich essays celebrating life away from the noise of the city.

I'm still reading:

~A Place for Weakness: Preparing Yourself for Suffering (Kindle). Michael Horton has caused me to think much about my view of suffering. I'm taking this one slow, because it's been very timely for me.

And soon I'll start:

~Soul Surfer: A True Story of Faith, Family, and Fighting to Get Back on the Board. CJ asked me to read this one with her.

~The Organized Heart: A Woman's Guide to Conquering Chaos (Kindle).

Visit 5 Minutes for Books to see what others are reading this summer.

Lessons Learned - About Myself

2011-06-24T06:00:00.016-04:00

After sharing lessons learned about our home, our girl, and my man, it's only fair that I share lessons I've learned about myself during the past year and a half.

I am more easily satisfied and resilient than I thought.

Several years ago, I wanted the newest and latest of everything. I bought shoes and purses on a whim. I was constantly feathering my nest with pillows and other decor. If I saw something I wanted, I found a way to justify buying it. We took trips to Boston and New York. We were living the American dream. And paying for it dearly.

God, in His sovereignty, knew that some things needed to change. Nearly two years before R's employer announced the mill closure, He began convicting me of all the waste in my life. As I began to reduce the clutter and the spending, an amazing thing happened. I realized the things I thought made my life were really choking it out of me.

I've learned to weigh the value of everything before allowing it to take valuable space in my home and in my life. I've learned I'm just more satisfied eating a meal I've prepared, watching a movie at home, and hanging out in our back yard than going out for dinner, a movie, or shopping. I've learned that the things I have and the places I go don't define the quality of my life.

I am more controlling and selfish than I thought.

I've always been a controller. Not only do I like to know what's going on, but I like to be in charge of it. It's been an exercise in patience and self-control to balance helping my husband with schoolwork and paperwork with taking over completely. It's been an exercise in humility to remind myself daily that God's ways are higher than my own.

When this path doesn't seem to make sense, or I want to just get-to-the-end-and-be-done-with-it-already-thank-you, I must tell myself yet again that having control is an illusion crafted by the enemy to draw my attention from God. When I tire of being the primary source of our family's income, wanting to slough off that responsibility along with my work clothes at the end of a long day, I have to remember that this is temporary and that I should be grateful for the provision of my job. When I'm tempted to stomp my feet at God and ask why my dreams of going back to college have not been realized, I recall the changes wrought in my dear husband's life, changes I would not have witnessed if my plans had prevailed.

In those moments, I quietly whisper prayers seeking forgiveness and the strength to let go.

I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing.

~John 15:5 (ESV)

Acknowledging the Miracle

2011-06-22T06:00:00.035-04:00

I lay on the table, looking over at the IV needle ready to carry a course of dye through my abdomen.

How did I get here?

It all started with a simple bug bite on my calf, or so I thought. The "bite" became an angry rash that would ease for a few days only to return with a vengeance. I tried lotions and creams, everything I could think of to avoid going to the doctor.

Six weeks later came other, seemingly unrelated, symptoms. I went to see my family doctor, suspecting a nuisance infection that antibiotics should have cleared up in a few days. The symptoms didn't subside. Knots formed in the lymph nodes at the top of my left thigh. Just rising from a chair sent waves of pain through my body. I went to see the doctor who delivered CJ and has seen me through numerous surgeries since. She was immediately concerned. The infection from my leg had apparently traveled through my bloodstream. She ordered a battery of tests.

I spent the remainder of the day being poked and prodded, giving blood and drinking some sweet syrup concoction to help the radiologist see my insides. And see them, he did. He asked my doctor if I'd had a trauma of some kind, because my blood vessels were so swollen. The infection was mounting a serious assault against my body.

Three antibiotics later, the infection was gone but the symptoms remained. Every day for 3 months, I'd been suffering from these miserable symptoms and was not getting any better. My attitude, my family, and my life were all seriously impacted by my health. Frustrated, I went to see yet another doctor for one last round of testing. He could find nothing, and suggested a shot of prednisone might give some temporary relief. I refused, feeling that residual internal swelling might be causing the symptoms. He agreed that waiting another six weeks might be wise.

After the appointment, I thought about a blog post I'd read, Eating to Heal the Body. I went back to Kelly's account of her healing after a kidney transplant. I've been concentrating on eating real food for the past year, but I hadn't done any research on eating for healing.Convinced I was right in my diagnosis, I began incorporating more anti-inflammatory foods in my diet. Within two days, my symptoms began to subside.

That was two weeks ago. I still have symptoms, but they are not as frequent or as intense. I have had many days with no symptoms at all. After three long, excruciating and frustrating months, I am finally feeling better. I am slowly finding my way back to my life.

If I hadn't ignored the rash and hoped it would simply go away, I would have saved myself a lot of pain, frustration, and money. I truly needed medical attention and avoiding it was not wise. However, avoiding a steroid injection was. There are times when perhaps we know our bodies better than the doctors. Before agreeing to a treatment we're not comfortable with, we should consider if there are suitable natural alternatives available.

I am thankful for the doctors, lab technicians, and radiology technicians who worked together to diagnose my infection. I am thankful for the antibiotics that defended my body. I am thankful for pain relievers that helped me make it through some rough days.

More than that, I'm grateful for the Lord's healing. He also could have healed me immediately, yet in His sovereignty He chose not to. When the doctors didn't know what to do, He prompted me to seek other avenues. Certainly, he could have healed me with modern medicine. It would have been no less a miracle.

Why do we look for God only in the miraculous? Why do we associate God's activity in our lives with a spectacular disappearance of a medically documented tumor but are not as ready to acknowledge the same in its reduction over time through radiation or surgery? Is God not as much the healer when a wound recovers gradually through various human means as when he miraculously intervenes? ~ Michael Horton, A Place for Weakness: Preparing Yourself for Suffering (p. 91)

The Broken Heart

2011-06-17T07:33:00.000-04:00

O LORD,
No day of my life has passed that has not proved me guilty in thy sight.
Prayers have been uttered from a prayerless heart;
Praise has been often praiseless sound;
My best services are filthy rags.
Blessed Jesus, let me find a covert in thy appeasing wounds.
Though my sins rise to heaven thy merits soar above them;
Though unrighteousness weighs me down to hell,
thy righteousness exalts me to thy throne.
All things in me call for my rejection,
All things in thee plead my acceptance.
I appeal from the throne of perfect justice
to thy throne of boundless grace.
Grant me to hear thy voice assuring me:
that by thy stripes I am healed,
that thou was bruised for my iniquities,
that thou hast been made sin for me
that I might be righteous in thee,
that my grievous sins, my manifold sins, are all forgiven,
buried in the ocean of they concealing blood.
I am guilty, but pardoned,
lost, but saved,
wandering, but found,
sinning, but cleansed.
Give me perpetual broken-heartedness,
Keep me always clinging to thy cross,
Flood me every moment with descending grace,
Open to me the springs of divine knowledge,
sparkling like crystal,
flowing clear and unsullied
through my wilderness of life.
~Valley of Vision: A collection of Puritan Prayers & Devotions (p. 83, emphasis mine)

Thankful Thursday

2011-06-16T10:53:00.000-04:00

Today I am giving God thanks for:

~the last day of school. A year of hard work, of stretching and growing both inside and outside of the classroom. I'd forgotten how difficult middle school can be.

~my girl's desire to live differently. She's not the most popular or athletic kid, but she loves Jesus. I'll take that over earthly accolades any day.

~a summer calendar that's virtually empty. Plenty of time for family fun and games, impromptu cookouts with friends, last minute trips to the amusement park, and church softball. The stuff that great summers are made of.

~weekly Bible study with a group of 9 college-aged ladies. They sharpen and inspire me. I'm so thankful they're allowing me to invest in their lives.

~the Holy Spirit's conviction this morning. May I be broken and poured out for Him!

Lessons Learned - About My Man

2011-06-10T12:03:00.003-04:00

I've shared lessons learned about our home and our girl. In honor of my husband's birthday this weekend, I thought I would share things I've learned about him in this past year.

Next month brings the beginning of the third decade I have known him, the man I love. For twenty years now we've been the closest of friends and confidantes. I thought I had him pretty well figured out. Then life changed.

Through shock and grief, tension and uncertainty, anxiety and more uncertainty, I've seen the man I married transform before my very eyes.

My man is more intelligent than he realized.

Confidence has been an ill-fitting garment on his shoulders, despite my best efforts to make it more comfortable for him. My praises, and the praises of our girl, go only so far. In these past months, his confidence has been built upon the respect of his classmates and professors, the right answers on homework problems, and the satisfaction of a job well done. The man who was unsure about taking this path has grown with each passing step, and it has been a sight to see.

My man is more intelligent than I realized.

I've always known he's smart. I've long admired his talent to build and fix things, to look at a drawing (his own or someone else's) and bring it to life. I've never seen him give himself over to reading and studying like he's had to do this past year. Listening to him talk about statistical analysis, ethics and the regulatory environment, and leadership in business, I've gained a new appreciation for his intellect.

My man is finding new things comfortable.

The work jeans have been retired. The once standard ball cap hangs in the mudroom. Steel-toed boots have been replaced by sandals and tennis shoes. A new life requires a new wardrobe.

Days of coming home at the break of dawn, trying to sleep while the sun burns down hot through our bedroom window are a faint memory. Missing Sunday worship twice a month is all but forgotten. His body recovers from the years of swing shift, the snatching of sleep at odd times. His spirit recovers from portions of life missed, family gatherings and dinners with friends, ballgames and trips to the amusement park.

I am finding new things comfortable.

Hearing him greet me when I arrive home each day. The privilege of family dinner each evening. The blessing of feeling him next to me in the bed each night. They are things I don't take for granted. I never want to.

My man appreciates the little things.

A few months ago, I started leaving him short notes listing the reasons I love him. He quickly became accustomed to getting them. Who knew such a small act would mean so much?

Sending silly texts to each other throughout the day, holding hands while watching our favorite television series on DVD each night, learning Spanish with him. All little things, small investments that have yielded big dividends in our relationship. Fires make our love stronger, more enduring.

My man loves me more than I realized.

He spends his days surrounded by classmates young enough to be our own children, his evenings immersed in books. He stretches his brain to grasp foreign concepts. He humbles himself to allow me to be the breadwinner. He is daring to dream new dreams. All of this to make a better life for our family and to better serve the Lord. His life boldly proclaims his love for me, the depths of which I had never understood.

As we celebrate another year of my husband's life, I'm thanking the Lord

...for His goodness in knowing just how much a lost and hurt young woman needed this man who would cherish her.

...for His wisdom in bringing me to this man who is most certainly my better half. Aside from Christ, he is the best thing about me.

...for His grace in giving two selfish and sinful people these 20 years of love and friendship, a strong marriage, and a beautiful daughter. I am blessed beyond measure.

Happy birthday, my sweet man. I am so incredibly proud to be your wife!

Lessons Learned - About our Girl

2011-06-03T06:00:00.007-04:00

A few weeks ago, I shared some lessons I've learned about our home during the past year. I'm finally getting back to this series with lessons learned about our girl.

The stretching of the past year has been tough on our girl. There are days she handles it with grace, knowing that our current state is temporary. Yet to a 12-year old, temporary can seem like an eternity.

She's watched friends' dads go back to work, their lives resuming normalcy. While her own is anything but. It must be difficult for her to understand that we are living in a new normal. Sometimes, I struggle with that reality myself.

As she's learned to adjust to having a full-time student for a dad, I've learned a few things about her.

My girl is stronger than I thought.

She admits that she first saw R losing his job as a tragedy, but she realizes now that God is in control and that He is good. She's seen Him work in our family and has proclaimed that to her friends.

Some days the weight of "No, we can't afford that." or "Not this weekend. Dad has a lot of homework to do." is too much to bear. She complains. She is, after all, 12. In those times, I tell her that this temporary sacrifice is bringing great reward for our family. Not the reward of buying things we don't need in order to keep up with the Joneses, but the reward of a simple yet satisfying life. I remind her that R's working hard now so that (hopefully) he won't have to go back to a life of shift-work.

These reminders strengthen her resolve to persevere.

My girl is more adaptable than I thought.

She's learning to appreciate simple pleasures. In cooler months, we had family game nights and movie nights at home. We laughed. We cried. We snuggled. We enjoyed the quiet haven of our home.

She's been working alongside R to plan and plant our garden. Her hands have gotten dirty. Her eyes have sparkled. She is excited to watch the plants grow and produce food to sustain us.

This summer will bring homemade popsicles and ice cream, church softball, and evenings in the backyard. We'll savor our time together before the demands of school creep back into our lives.

My girl is funnier, more loving, and wiser than I thought.

As I watch her navigate the perils of middle school along with the tremendous changes in our family life, I'm amazed at some of the things she says and does. Little things, like drilling her dad for a quiz or helping with dinner, give me glimpses of the woman she's going to become. True, there are many, many times when I'm frustrated because I've had to tell her four times to do something. In those instances, I need to stop before I yell and remember occasions when she's done something without being asked. I need to remember just how hard it is to be 12. I need to give her grace.

Friday's Fave Five - Anniversary Edition

2011-05-27T09:21:00.000-04:00

18 years ago today, my life was a bevy of last minute wedding details. 48 hours remained until our vows would be spoken and our lives would change. We could not have imagined how much. Nor could this immature girl have guessed how much she had to learn...how little she actually knew about being a woman, let alone a wife.

If I could go back in time and give that young bride five pieces of wisdom, I'd say...

#1 - Don't scoff at his dreams. Instead of belittling them, encourage him to reach out of his comfort zone (and yours), in obedience to God. For all things are possible with God. ~ Mark 10:27

#2 - Don't sweat the small stuff. And much of it is small stuff, even though it looms large. Remember, these things are just a small portion of your life that only affect you & your marriage if you let them. And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to hisspan of life? ~ Luke 12:25

#3 - Be content. A successful marriage cannot be measured by the number of pretty things you accumulate. Now there is great gain in godliness with contentment, for we brought nothing into the world, and we cannot take anything out of the world. ~ 1 Tim. 6:6.

#4 - Love him more. - Above all, keep loving one another earnestly, since love covers a multitude of sins. ~ 1 Peter 4:8.

#5 - Love God more. Only be very careful to observe the commandment and the law that Moses the servant of the LORD commanded you, to love the LORD your God, and to walk in all his ways and to keep his commandments and to cling to him and to serve him with all your heart and with all your soul. ~ Joshua 22:5

(Friday's Fave Five is hosted by Susanne @ Living to Tell The Story)

What's On My Nightstand - May

2011-05-24T06:00:00.058-04:00

It's time once again for What's On My Nightstand over at 5 Minutes for Books. I'm still trying to stay with the 3-book plan, which has been made easier with my new found love of the audio book.

Finished:

~Lady Susan. A quick and delightful book of letters. Obviously early Jane, but fun nevertheless.

~How Do I Love Thee? I didn't know the story of Elizabeth Barrett Browning. This was an interesting novelization of her life, with plenty of strange truths.

~Loving the Church: God's People Flourishing in God's Family. I wasn't particularly fond of the format of this one, but John Crotts has some really good things to say about the role of the church and the members within it.

~Year of Wonders: A Novel of the Plague. To say I enjoyed novel about the plague in a small 17th century England doesn't quite fit, given the subject matter. I will say that it is a compelling study in how people deal with tragedy. The ending left me unsatisfied, still I would recommend this book.

Currently Reading:

~A Place for Weakness: Preparing Yourself for Suffering (Kindle, non-fiction). The discussion at Elizabeth's on Wednesdays is worth reading, even if you aren't reading the book (although I HIGHLY recommend that you read it!)

~Bonhoeffer: Pastor, Martyr, Prophet, Spy (audio, biography). I'm finally on the last disc. It's been a very interesting story, although a bit long and detailed for my taste. I have learned much about the Third Reich and Hitler's power over Germany, and have been fascinated by the Christians who opposed him.

~The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie (fiction). I decided to give this a whirl after reading Carrie's post that included it among books she's happy were recommended to her. I'm only a few chapters in, but already adore Flavia de Luce. I can't wait to read the next two books in this series.

Up next:

~Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet (audio, fiction)

~A Walk with Jane Austen: A Journey into Adventure, Love, and Faith (biography). This one has been on my list forever, but I am going to get to it!

~The Organized Heart: A Woman's Guide to Conquering Chaos (Kindle, non-fiction)

~Christianity and Liberalism (Kindle, non-fiction), as part of Challies' latest Reading the Classics Together.

~The Sisters from Hardscrabble Bay (fiction).

Concern about what I've been reading - particularly fiction - has been gnawing at me. I didn't understand it at first, because I'm very careful to choose "clean" books (I find certain language offensive). Still, I decided to cull my bookshelves again. I had accumulated a large number of Christian romance novels, but the prospect of reading them no longer appeal to me. Then I read this article by Russell Moore, which confirmed my convictions. I'm determined to focus on classics and works that are more thought-provoking and witty (while clean at the same time).

If I want to be more intentional in my life, I must also be more intentional in my reading.

What about you...what are you reading these days? Are you intentional about what you read? Do you have any recommendations for me?

You can visit 5 Minutes for Books to see what others are reading.

A Place for Weakness - Chapters 3 & 4

2011-05-18T07:20:00.003-04:00

We're continuing the discussion of A Place for Weakness: Preparing Yourself for Suffering over at Elizabeth's.

Not much time here today, but I wanted to share a favorite quote from each chapter.

...from Chapter 3

...those who demand heaven on earth here and now - instant health, wealth, happiness, or holiness - often become the most embittered, hostile, and disillusioned critics of Christianity. Whether it is perfect bodies, perfect sanctification, perfect success, perfect marriages, perfect children, perfect security, perfect churches - whatever- we must abandon this theology of glory instead of abandoning the God who works all things together for good. ~p. 48

...and from Chapter 4

It wouldn't have shocked most Christians in other ages, but it definitely catches us by surprise. God does not exist for us; we exist for God. In our human-centered age, we tend to measure God and his purposes by what we calculate as most beneficial for us. With this starting point, the whole horizon of sin, judgment, salvation, and damnation becomes reduced to our happiness. It's not surprising that God's wrath and everlasting judgment fall off the radar. pp. 65-66

Go to Elizabeth's to join the discussion on this thought-provoking book by Michael Horton.

Lessons Learned - About our Home

2011-05-17T06:00:00.006-04:00

There have been many lessons learned in our new life. Some have been simple. More than a few have been hard-fought. Others continue to be a struggle. In the coming days, I'll share some of these lessons with you. Most are principals I already knew in my head, but had no room for in my heart.

Today I'll share two lessons I've learned about our home.

Breathing room is essential.

Meaningless knick-knacks, pretty as they were, sucked the life out of our home. They are gone. We are surrounded by pictures, family treasures, and words of encouragement - things that matter.

Fewer things to dust. More space to live.

And we do live in our home. Even when piles of laundry beckon, I am able to look around at the surfaces and see space. Space allows me to relax, to breathe easier.

Fewer unimportant things to keep track of. More time to live.

2008 was the Year of Peace & Simplicity in our home. I learned that our family functions better when life is calm. When I am calm. Not having to remember where important papers are (because they've been put where they belong) or being a slave to a complicated organizational system keeps me calm.

Homemade is worth the effort.

Laundry detergent, dish detergent, household cleaners, apple sauce, bread, ice cream, and even mayo. The planning and the time spent are a small price to pay for what we've gained by eating better.

Making pancakes from scratch creates room in the budget for real maple syrup. We buy eggs from pastured hens instead of boxes of cereal.

The trade-off works well for us.

There are some things I will always buy, but many I've committed to making at home because the benefit is greater than the cost.

The quality of our choices takes our focus from the quantity.

Our home is still (and will always be) a work in progress. Yet I think for the most part, my family would agree that it's a sanctuary for all of us.

Any sacrifice I might make pales in comparison.

One Year Later - The Final Step, The First Step

2011-05-13T13:28:00.000-04:00

Revisiting our journey, and God's answer for a new life. Read Part I, Part II, and Parts III/IV first.

News of R's pending unemployment crashed over me, a tidal wave of grief and despair. The force broke the chains of bondage R had wrestled with for so long. He was walking away, yet maddeningly unsure of his steps. I selfishly denied him time to gain his strength, to heal. His trepidation fueled my need for control.

I plotted and planned, wheels spinning and getting us nowhere. Exhausted and spent, I finally gave up.

And my sweet husband started to smile again.

I could only hang my head in shame. I'd allowed my dreams to crowd out his. I'd put myself first and stifled him in the process. I'd been unwilling to sacrifice my comfort for his.

I was heartbroken, knowing there was nothing beautiful about my ambition, pride, and selfishness.

We wanted a new, different life. With no clear direction on how to get there, we resigned ourselves to waiting on the Lord. For a woman who likes to know, it was excruciating. All I could do was pray.

I waited patiently for the LORD;
he inclined to me and heard my cry.
He drew me up from the pit of destruction,
out of the miry bog,
and set my feet upon a rock,
making my steps secure.
He put a new song in my mouth,
a song of praise to our God.
Many will see and fear,
and put their trust in the LORD.
~Psalm 40:1-3 (ESV)

With great joy, awe and humility, I'm happy to announce that our wait is over. After 17 years of wandering, of pursuing what we thought best for our lives, God has taken us back to the beginning.

This fall, R returns to college. The same university as when we married.

It astounds me how God has used the past two years to prepare our hearts. He has granted us a fresh start. (Except, as CJ quickly reminds us, we now have our fantastic daughter.) We are also older, wiser, more willing & ready to submit to His leadership.

Whenever R talked about returning to school, I tuned him out. There was no way we could afford it. By God's grace, we don't have to. Oh, He is good!

Today is the last day of our old life, the one we chose for our own comfort. Where this new road goes from here, I honestly don't know. But I'll be holding His hand, and my dear husband's, all the way.

One year ago, my husband reported for his last day of work. We were a mix of emotions - excited, sad, afraid, and nervous, to name a few. We didn't know what we were getting ourselves into or how it would turn out. We only knew that we could trust God.

We were right.

And that man who was unsure about returning to school...well, he's made Dean's List both semesters!

Next week, I'll share some things I've learned in this past year.

(edited, from the archives)

One Year Later - Final Steps, Parts III & IV

2011-05-12T13:22:00.000-04:00

Continuing to look back on the last days of our journey towards R's unemployment. Read Part I and Part II first.

As the years passed, R would occasionally rebel against the bondage of his employment. I endeavored to convince him that we were in the promised land. I had already convinced myself. I was bold and tireless in my manipulations.

Untended weeds spread quickly, almost imperceptibly.

The new home was no longer new. I knew it would be impossible to change it into what I wanted. Even if we did, it wasn't where I wanted. Why not put R's carpentry skills to use? I reasoned.

We found the lot and the house plan. Sold the home that had seen two young people fight for their marriage, grieve the loss of a child and a father, and welcome a baby girl into the world. We crammed all the stuff into a tiny apartment where we spent the next 18 months navigating the obstacle course of boxes containing our old life. Boxes waiting for our new life were soon stacked among them.

We poured the foundation of our house and cemented R's future in a job he despised.

But God...

If it's possible to test God's patience to the limit, I did. He finally pried my hands from my ears so that I could hear Him speak about the hurt I was inflicting upon my husband and my daughter, and even myself. He told me enough was enough. He started weeding my heart.

My oft-chronicled journey toward peace & simplicity commenced. I learned to let go of things, except one. I was still hiding the key to R's chains in my pocket, clutching it until my knuckles were white. Every time he mentioned breaking free, I assured him we were where God wanted us.

Isn't that what the Israelites thought about Egypt?

I was standing my ground. Little did I know God was about to pull the rug out from under me.

(from the archives)

A Place for Weakness - Chapter 2

2011-05-11T06:00:00.000-04:00

Coolness has always eluded me.

As a girl, I lacked the courage and swagger that define cool. As an adult, I'm still not cool. Just ask my daughter.

I thought I was above wanting to be cool, until I read Chapter 2 of A Place for Weakness: Preparing Yourself for Suffering.

Michael Horton's words, and the truth behind them, sting.

...we seem obsessed at times with convincing the world that we are cool, which especially in this culture means healthy, good-looking, prosperous, and, even better, famous. Not only can one remain cool in Christ; it is this personal relationship with Jesus that, far from calling us to die, gives us that little bit extra to "be all that we can be". (p. 23)

What has happened to the true gospel, the gospel for losers? Instead, Horton says, we are leaning toward the religion of "healthy-mindedness, which replaces sin with sadness as the real enemy of human nature. The modern evangelicals, beaming and healthy successes in the communications industry, as exemplars of that religion." (p. 25).

We want the best, purpose-filled life we can have...and we want it now.

But is this the life Jesus calls us to?

The cross-bearing, sacrificial life is not found in the pursuit of happiness or feeling good. The Jesus that is offered by so many today bears little resemblance to the One who promised blessing in persecution (Matthew 5:10-11) and proclaimed that the world would hate us (John 15:17-19).

Buying into this modern version of Jesus, we've settled for less. The "irony of our lives is that we demand the ephemeral, momentary glories of this fading age, too easily amused and seduced by the trivial, when ultimate joy is held out to us." (p. 27)

This chapter pricked my heart. I'm tired of worshiping a god of my own making. I'm worn out by the trivial and momentary.

It's time to quit pretending to be cool and accept my true identy...

A loser who needs Jesus.

Visit Elizabeth to see what others are saying about Chapter Two of this great book!

One Year Later - The Final Steps, Part II

2011-05-10T08:49:00.002-04:00

(Looking back at our journey, one year later. Scroll down to read Part I first.)

A bigger home needs more stuff.

A sinful heart will rationalize anything to get what it wants.

More stuff isn't free. Despite the beauty of R's craftsmanship, a carpenter's salary wasn't going to finance all the stuff we had to have. The answer was clear, at least to me. I wasn't subtle in my attempts to persuade my husband that gaining a job at the paper mill would give us the life we deserved. He submitted himself to the long process of application and testing. We were so happy when he was finally called for an interview. The day he was hired was cause for celebration. We were giddy with anticipation of a better life.

R was the first to feel the chains. He began to resent a job that didn't allow him to use his God-given talents and required him to work ridiculous hours. He grew restless. His conversations were peppered with words of another career path. He was eager to shake the dust of the current one from his shoes. He talked of unpacking those school books.

And I? I was comfortable. I didn't hand him the key to his chains. I simply cleansed the wounds caused by his resistance, washing them with my words instead of the Word. Occasional bandages kept us from having to examine the depth of the cuts.

The weeds that had grown in my heart appeared to be beautiful blossoms, but they were choking the life out of my husband's dreams.

To be continued...

(from the archives)

One Year Later - The Final Steps, Part I

2011-05-09T09:02:00.000-04:00

One year ago today, we were counting down the final week of R's unemployment. One week until a new life began. One year from today, we'll be two-thirds of the way through our journey, we told ourselves. It seemed so far in the distance.

And yet here we are.

In this past year, God has taught us so much. I keep saying that, I know. I also know my words fall flat, in no way adequate to describe His goodness. I've come to realize that all I can do is proclaim that He is good and we are standing only by His grace and mercy.

One year ago today, my fingers took to the keyboard to tell the story of our old life before we journeyed into the new one. I had no idea just how far we would come...

When R & I married, I was six months into a new job. He was a part-time carpenter and part-time student. We lived in a small apartment filled with hand-me-down furniture and wedding gifts. Friday night Chinese food and a rented movie was our weekly splurge.

One day, we decided to tour the homes R's boss was constructing. Beautiful, I thought. I'd love to have a house like this.

After that we spent many Saturdays visiting different houses, each watering the seeds of envy and discontent growing in my heart.

A few months later R's boss offered us a great price on a house he was just starting. Our mortgage would be little more than our monthly rent. A good investment, we said. Paint colors and carpet samples consumed my thoughts. I wanted our first home to be perfect.

Meanwhile, R was realizing that being a husband, a part-time employee and a part-time student (at a university an hour away) was no piece of cake. He eagerly accepted an offer to work full-time and packed up his school books.

Seven months later, we moved into our new home. Those seeds of envy and discontent, quietly resting under the surface, soon found company in pride and greed. When they burst forth, I didn't recognize them for the weeds that they were. Instead of yanking them out by their roots, I searched for ways to nurture them.

To be continued...

*from the archives

A Place for Weakness - Chapter 1

2011-05-04T09:35:00.000-04:00

I had not heard of A Place for Weakness: Preparing Yourself for Suffering by Michael Horton until Elizabeth announced her online book discussion. The book's title, and Elizabeth's first post, stirred something within me.

I need this.

These past months - all 17 of them since R learned he would be losing his job - have been a time of weakness. I cannot say suffering. Not in light of what so many others are enduring in Japan and Alabama, in hospitals and on the mission field.

The red tape of school funding. The hurt of leaving a life we had grown so comfortable in. The weight of homework and this new life. Concerns about money. Church issues. An illness that's lasted far too long and interrupted life more than I would like. They are merely inconveniences.

So why do I have a hard time remembering that?

Michael Horton's words bring to mind the first days of leaving the old life, of knowing that God was giving us a precious gift.

Our weaknesses really are an opportunity for God to show his strength....without the trials, faith is not really roused to grab hold of the God of promise. (p. 17)

I look back on this journey I would not have chosen, with deep gratitude that God chose it for me.

For giving me an opportunity to grab hold of Him with both hands.

For reminding me how much I need Him.

Others are discussing Chapter 1 at Elizabeth's today.

Around the House: May

2011-05-03T06:00:00.001-04:00

I've reclaimed the dining room table. Books have been banished. In their place, bright yellow lemons nestled in a bowl.

Winter clothes, and their heaviness, are stored away.

Many things that clutter our lives are finding new homes, giving us space to breathe.

I delight in little things.

... Lady Susan by dear Jane, written in epistolary style. I love it almost as much as I did The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society.

...The West Wing: The Complete Second Season

...Rose bushes bursting with color that greet me each afternoon.

...The sweet aroma of cut grass.

...Leaves shooting forth from the cool soil, the first signs of our garden coming to life.

We are enjoying the simplicity of life, and I still marvel at that.

Next week, we'll mark the one year anniversary of R's final day of employment. I wonder, have I been faithful to share how very good God has been in this past year? Not just in this place, but in my day-to-day living as well. Have I proclaimed His sovereignty and grace and mercy?

I've been quiet around here for a while now. Words often seem to fail me, and I don't know if I'll ever find any to capture things that have been on my heart. Many days find me weary, at best. Yet I feel my heart stirring and waking from its slumber.

It is well with my soul.

Just Enough

2011-04-27T06:00:00.000-04:00

I practically giggled, telling him of the latest item in my ever-growing repertoire of homemade household items. His eyes caught mine in the mirror. What a difference 18 years makes, he said. I never expected that you would be making so many things.

The truth of his statement cuts to the insecure part of my heart, stinging. I look up to see the admiration in his eyes. It covers the hurt, soon forgotten. The truth is, no one is more surprised than I at the changes wrought in our lives, in my life. The young girl he married - brash and loud - turned up her nose at the word frugal. She was far too busy wanting to be somebody to think about cutting corners and looking well after her household.

People change.

Life changes.

The calendar hurdles toward the one year anniversary of my man's last day of work. I am still completely amazed at how God has proven Himself time and time again. Life is not perfect because we are not. Yet this path we never would have chosen is. We are living Romans 8:28 every day. For it is good to have enough.

Too much breeds greed and idolatry.

Too little breeds resentment and envy.

In His sovereign wisdom, God has given us enough.

...enough to cover the bills.

...enough to have some fun.

...enough to support His work.

...enough not to worry about where our next meal will come from.

...enough to know just how much we need to rely on Him for our sustenance, because He is more than enough.

Two things I ask of you;
deny them not to me before I die:
Remove far from me falsehood and lying;
give me neither poverty nor riches;
feed me with the food that is needful for me,
lest I be full and deny you
and say, "Who is the LORD?"
or lest I be poor and steal
and profane the name of my God.
~Proverbs 30: 7-9 (ESV)
(emphasis mine)

What's On My Nightstand - April Edition

2011-04-26T11:14:00.000-04:00

My reading quilt has been relegated to its summer place, resting until cool nights once again descend. My reading tapers off as the days grow longer. Still, there's plenty of good reading on my nightstand.

Finished:

~My Cousin Rachel by Daphne du Maurier. A suspenseful delight. Not as chilling as du Maurier's best known work, Rebecca, but worth a look.

~What is Reformed Theology?: Understanding the Basics by R. C. Sproul. A book I felt I needed to read. I was right.

Currently Reading:

~(Audio) Bonhoeffer: Pastor, Martyr, Prophet, Spy by Eric Metaxas. I must confess, I checked this out of the library on two separate occasions. I just couldn't get through it, despite my interest in this intriguing story. A friend had it on audio, so I borrowed it. This is my first foray into books on CD, and I like it.

~(Kindle) A Place for Weakness: Preparing Yourself for Suffering by Michael Horton. In preparation for this book discussion.

~Loving the Church by John Crotts. Not quite what I expected, but something I really need right now.

Up Next:

~(Kindle) Lady Susan by Jane Austen. It's been entirely too long since I've read something by Jane!

~Nine Marks of a Healthy Church by Mark Dever.

What are you reading? Link up your list at 5 Minutes for Books.

A Prayer for My Backslidden Soul

2011-04-26T07:35:00.001-04:00

O LORD,
When the world's unbelievers reject thee,
and are so forsaken by thee that though callest them no more,
it is to thine own thou dost turn,
for in such seasons of general apostasy
they in some measure backslide with the world.
O how free is thy grace
that reminds them of the danger that confronts them
and urges them to persevere in adherence to thyself!
I bless thee that those who turn aside
may return to thee immediately,
and be welcomed without anything to commend them,
notwithstanding all their former backslidings.
I confess that this is suited to my case, for of late
I have found great want,
and lack of apprehension of divine grace;
I have been greatly distressed of soul
because I did not suitably come to the fountain
that purges away all sin;
I have laboured too much for spiritual life,
peace of conscience, progressive holiness,
in my own strength.
I beg thee, show me the arm of all might;
Give me to believe
that thou canst do for me more than I ask or think, and
that, though I backslide, thy love will never let me go,
but will draw me back to thee with everlasting cords;
that thou dost provide grace in the wilderness,
and canst bring me out, leaning on the arm of my Beloved;
that thou canst cause me to walk with him
by the rivers of waters in a straight way,
wherein I shall not stumble.
Keep me solemn,
devout,
faithful,
resting on free grace
for assistance, acceptance, and peace of conscience.

~Valley of Vision: A collection of Puritan Prayers & Devotions, p. 86 (emphasis mine)

Living on the Altar - Revisited

2011-04-15T06:00:00.005-04:00

It is still dark and my mind's a little fuzzy. It rolls over these two words, time and time again. Contemplating...

living sacrifice

What does it mean to be a living sacrifice? I delve deeper, scratch some notes in my commitment booklet.

My thoughts immediately rush to that scene in Genesis...Abraham taking the son long awaited - the son of promise - up that hill, bearing the weight of God's command. In faith he assured the child of God's provision and goodness. How do you praise and proclaim His goodness when He is requiring your very flesh and bones?

I remember a verse I've been meditating on for several days in my Bible reading plan.

John answered, “A person cannot receive even one thing unless it is given him from heaven."
~John 3:27 (ESV)

The man who ate locusts and honey recognized our depravity, our complete and utter lack of anything of substance. Abraham knew it, too. He knew the pain of the enormously hard task, but also the grace and peace in the moments of quiet obedience. They are God's gifts to us.

My own inadequacy presses down hard on me. The life I've been asked to sacrifice has died hard and cruel, the moments of quiet obedience too few and far between. I have plodded up the hill begging God for any other way to teach this lesson, waiting for Him to provide another sacrifice. But here I am, bound by His protection, His love, and His sovereignty.

Did Isaac chafe against the ropes his father wrapped around him to bind him to the altar? Did he fight until the ropes burned into his wrists and ankles?

I see the marks of my own fighting against this life on the altar, the wounds of one who lacks faith. They are still tender. I pray that His grace will pour over them as a soothing salve, bringing peace and healing. Life on the altar is not comfortable, but it is the truest place of worship I know.

I appeal to you therefore, brothers, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship.
~Romans 12:1 (ESV)

*from the archives

There's Some Seriously Good Reading...

2011-04-06T10:55:00.000-04:00

...in Becky's month-long series, Doctrine in the Kitchen. Click the button to find out more.

Around the House: April

2011-04-01T09:00:00.001-04:00

My soul lifts at the turning of the calendar. For once, I am happy to leave March behind. I stare at the field of wildflowers that bloom above the blocks named April. The spacious place is inviting. I realize just how weary I've been. How weary I am of being weary.

The empty blocks beg to be filled. I hold strong to ignore their plea, promising myself that only good things will find their way to these spaces.

An annual girls' weekend at the beach with my dearest friend.

Various Easter services.

Spring Break.

A night out with close friends.

Four weeks from today, R's semester will be finished. We'll be 2/3rds of the way through our journey toward a new life. I marvel at how time has flown and how the One who made time has stood Faithful and True.

I want to take advantage these first days of Spring. To simplify and rejuvenate. To restore my soul.

The days still may be quiet around here. I have a few posts brewing in my head and hope to get them out soon. In the meanwhile, I'll leave you with something I've been pondering these past few weeks.

Follow someone who follows Christ; follow a pilgrim who insists that you live up to what you have already attained, and then press for more. ~D.A. Carson

Hello, Friend & My March Nightstand

2011-03-22T16:44:00.000-04:00

March has indeed come in like a lion, full of sharp teeth and loud roars. I have needed some quiet and safety, away from the glare of the screen and words written for all the world to see (though there are few in the world who actually do see them). There are too many words I cannot write. They crowd out the ones that might find their way into this space. And so I have been silent.

The thoughts shared on this post were wonderful and so much more worthy than my lack of response demonstrates. I did intend to write a follow up post, and have some other discussion questions in mind. They will keep while I rest for a while.

Here are some things I'm pondering:

~What is Reformed Theology?: Understanding the Basics - to better understand and defend my faith

~This Is Why You're Fat (And How to Get Thin Forever): Eat More, Cheat More, Lose More--and Keep the Weight Off - to make some much, much needed change

~Nine Marks of a Healthy Church - because we should all be a part of a healthy church

~Loving the Church: God's People Flourishing in God's Family - to learn to love more

~Jesus, Keep Me Near the Cross: Experiencing the Passion and Power of Easter - to sharpen my focus during this season

I'll be back soon to participate in the blog tour for The Mountains Bow Down. Until then, you can see what others are reading over at 5 Minutes for Books.

March Musings - #1

2011-03-07T09:47:00.000-05:00

Next week, I celebrate another year of life. I think back when I was the same age as my girl, how I had my life planned and knew all there was to know about...well, everything. I look at her now, tell her I know exactly how it feels to be 12. I wonder if, when I look away, she rolls her eyes the same way I did when my own mother spoke those very words.

And I wonder if she thinks she has it all figured out, the way her mama did. I shake my head at my own naivete, to think I had all the answers. The longer I live, the fewer answers I have.

There are also more questions. I've decided to pose some here throughout the month of March. I'm issuing an invitation to an open forum discussion, reserving the right to moderate comments that do not speak to to the topic and/or show respect for other commenters.

Please remember that I may have an answer in mind, but I do not suppose it to be 100% correct. I am genuinely interested in your input. I'll come back to share my own thoughts in a follow-up post. I hope we can all learn together.

Here is the first question(s):

What are the qualifications to classify something as Bible study (speaking to the material, gathering, or both)?

Around the House: March

2011-03-03T07:00:00.008-05:00

March is an in-between month. It comes with mixed emotions. I reconcile myself to the inconsistent temperatures, the spring allergies, and the growing older that March brings.

I look for reasons to rejoice.

~Spring Break.

~A weekend visit with dear friends refreshes us.

~The mailbox will soon be bulging with seeds. We are planning our biggest garden yet.

~A box of books will also be arriving, including Nine Marks of a Healthy Church and Jesus, Keep Me Near the Cross: Experiencing the Passion and Power of Easter.

~In the meantime, it's still cool enough to snuggle in under a quilt and read Bonhoeffer: Pastor, Martyr, Prophet, Spy.

~My husband declares that he can't put down a book he's reading. I can't help but smile at those strange words coming from his lips.

~Studying Philippians with sisters in Christ. It humbles, convicts, and makes me even more thankful for grace.

~Piano notes string together to become beautiful songs. I thank God for the gift He's given my girl.

~We read the Gospels after dinner, prepare our hearts for the Easter season.

~In the midst of some heavy complications and heartbreaks, God is pouring out His love. He is using some extremely difficult circumstances to teach, sharpen, and convict. He is breaking me. I remind myself to Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. (James 1:1-3, ESV)

~I determine to celebrate the life inside the boundary lines God has placed around me, rather than constantly seeking to go outside of them. Not content to just stay inside those lines, I'm renewing my quest to find margin. I'm giving a lot of thought to the overload in my life, including my online presence. What that means for this space, I'm not quite sure. I am sure that some changes are in order, and I'm praying for His grace to make them.

The Measure of a Life

2011-02-25T07:00:00.010-05:00

His textbooks cover the table, their mere presence exhuming dreams that died hard. I catch myself thinking back on the variations of the big life I imagined - the big career, the big ministry, the big blog.

Sometimes what I have seems so small.

Is my life what I dreamed it would be?

Am I where I ~~thought~~ hoped I'd be?

The map I had for my life is lost. Visions of a big and extraordinary life that once filled my head now vanished, vapors long ascended into the skies.

Sometimes I find it difficult to accept this small, ordinary life that is mine.

Small and significant battle each other, polar opposites in my mind.

Sometimes I feel like Kathleen Kelly in You've Got Mail , who asked

So much of what I see reminds me of something I read in a book, when shouldn't it be the other way around?

My discontent runs wild. I bristle at these words

The LORD is my chosen portion and my cup; you hold my lot. The lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; indeed, I have a beautiful inheritance.
~Psalm 16:5-6

And the ESV note: the song promotes contentment with the arrangements of one's life, seeing them as providentially ordered. (emphasis mine)
I am ashamed of my own laments, my own selfish desires. My sin. I have been too proud to accept the lines that God has placed around my small life, to see that they are for my own good and for His glory. For His Name is the only one to be glorified. This life is His gift to me. How can I be so callous and ungrateful to wonder why He didn't give me another?

Even the largest, longest life has finite boundaries. Tangible things are counted. Intangibles are measured. Time runs out. Breath stops. Yet the infinite God cannot be measured or bound by time or fully comprehended here. He exceeds all boundaries.

Kathleen Kelly had it backwards, and so have I. My life should remind me of something I read...in the Bible. The men and women hidden in its pages poured out their lives - He poured out His own - to tell His story. Few of them had great possessions. Their fame was the notoriety that comes from being labeled as different, radical. They are considered giants of the faith because their small lives made much of the King of Kings and Lord of Lords.

They are a beautiful inheritance, a great cloud of witnesses. For me. For you.

*edited, from the archives

The Morning Hour

2011-02-23T09:19:00.000-05:00

My sleepy hand emerges from the covers
to silence the loud beeping.
Slumbering senses come alive slowly.

The seafoam mug dotted with white
cradles the steaming liquid.
The muddy hue and the faint smell of vanilla, inviting.

The chair waits empty.
Pens stand in a vase, at the ready.
A light burns low and calming.

The pages rustle softly as angel's wings.
Enveloped in stitches sewn decades ago,
I am soon lost in the wonder of it all -
the story of the Prince who left the castle to claim me.

We meet somewhere between the earthly and the heavenly;
for I know even the most divine communion here
cannot compare to knowing Him fully.
I have slipped the bonds of the temporal and into the eternal.

These moments - this hour - is sacred.
It shadows all others to come.

The day intrudes, brash and demanding.
Chores beckon and duty calls.
I crash back into the boundaries of time and flesh.
And I count the hours until we will meet again.

Less Than Perfect

2011-02-21T11:06:00.002-05:00

I glanced at the report card and back at her, tears streaming down her face.

Knowing this would someday come doesn't lessen the pain. It's there, ugly and uncontrollable. She puddles before me, all preteen hormones and disappointment.

I fold her into my arms, speak soothing tones as my hands brush through those tousled curls I envy and adore. But what consolation is there when you realize that you tried so hard and came up just short? When the hope of perfection shatters into a thousand tiny shards that slice you to the very core?

Later I tell my parents the story. My mom smiles knowingly. The apple didn't fall far from the tree. I still remember too well those years of striving - needing - to be perfect. So afraid to fail and disappoint anyone that I nearly destroyed myself.

Is this the legacy I'm leaving my daughter?

There are many things I want to pass down to her.

~quilts made by my great-grandmothers

~family Bibles filled with scribbles of generations before us, lessons learned and heritages traced

~a love of classical music

~the joy of reading

There are many things I hope to cultivate in her.

~a hunger for the Word, written and made flesh

~a heart of gratitude

~a spirit of contentment and obedience

~an appreciation of God's mercy and grace

But this - this need to be my own redemption, my own accomplishment? I never wanted her to feel the sense of hopelessness that ruled over me for years.

And yet God used that very thing to bring me to Him. It wasn't until I accepted my glaring insufficiency that I could accept His complete sufficiency.

I long to instill this truth in her heart, berate myself for not doing a better job. The dull ache in the pit of my stomach comes fierce. Sometimes I forget that I am not sufficient

to live the life I desperately crave

to love those around me with the love of Jesus

to praise Him as He deserves

to pass down anything of lasting worth to my daughter, except the One alone whose grace is sufficient.

I cannot change my heart or hers. I can only grab her hand and bring her alongside, together learning to accept His marvelous, scandalous, miraculous, infinite, and all-sufficient grace.

But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong.
~2 Corinthians 12:9-10

What's on My Nightstand - February 2011

2011-02-21T07:00:00.000-05:00

The reading plan was a good idea. Not successful, but good.

Interruptions aplenty - two blog tours I couldn't resist, a library request fulfilled, and a husband who wants my opinion on a book he's reading for a class - have pushed my February plan aside and caused me to reorganize. Here are the results:

Finished in February:

Walking with Lincoln: Spiritual Strength from America's Favorite President - The one book on my list I managed to read - at least a portion of it. I didn't finish it because it wasn't what I'd expected. The short chapters read more like a devotional than a biography, which wasn't at all what I'd had in mind.

The Mountains Bow Down - I've documented my love for Raleigh Harmon novels. When this blog tour was announced, I could not resist. I'm so glad I didn't, and am looking forward to sharing more on upcoming the tour.

Coming up in March:

Bonhoeffer: Pastor, Martyr, Prophet, Spy. After hearing so many raves on this one, I requested that my library purchase it. I had no idea it would come in so quickly, though. I was thrilled to pick it up this weekend, even though it's 500+ pages.

Tough Choices: A Memoir. R is reading this for a business class, and asked for my perspective. In 18 years, he's never asked me to read a book along with him, so I jumped at the chance. So far, it's been an interesting read.

What's It Like to Be Married to Me?: And Other Dangerous Questions. This is another tour, and one I really wanted to participate in. I'm looking forward to cracking this one open. Maybe I'll even be brave enough to ask my husband the questions.

I would still like to get to Margin: Restoring Emotional, Physical, Financial, and Time Reserves to Overloaded Lives and Amy Inspired, but I'm not sure that's realistic. Still, a girl can dream.

Visit 5 Minutes for Books to see what others are reading this month.

Redeeming the Time

2011-02-16T07:00:00.001-05:00

He thinks we're not making memories. That this new path is crowding out everything else we do and are. I wonder if he's afraid we'll never find our way back. I'm afraid that even his broad shoulders can't bear this weight he's put on himself.

This is just a season, I tell him. I silently pray my words don't fall flat.

For this is just a season. A time under the winnowing fork. A time of sifting, until all that remains glorifies Him.

I think back to summer days on my grandparents' farm. Granddaddy was gone early, caring for the tractors and the hogs. Near lunchtime I would take my post at the window, watching eagerly for his pickup to return. I'd fidget while he ate his lunch, drank the cold milk that kept bones strong for his work. When he was done, I'd scurry out the door. We walked the fields together, checking the progress of each row. Granddaddy knew the harvest was still to come, but he never stopped working. He redeemed the time.

I stare at a picture of my grandfather, his boyish grin lighting up the smoothness of face I never saw. The young man is unfamiliar to me, but I can look into those eyes and see the patience he wore like a second skin. I imagine his leathery deep voice telling me The harvest is coming. For now, redeem the time.

I resolve to do just that. To quit waiting for what will be and to live in what is. To realize that our lives haven't been put on hold and to know that we are living. To stop saying when he graduates... and to start seeing each day for the beautiful miracle it is. To stop saying no to the present, for it truly is a gift.

When harvest time came, Granddaddy could look back on the days of caring and maintaining the fields and smile. He could treasure the memories of that season and know the satisfaction of a job well done.

May it be so in my home, Lord. May it be so.

The Celebration of Love

2011-02-14T11:19:00.001-05:00

He is busy with projects and midterms. Our Valentine's dinner will have to wait. He's spending the evening preparing a group presentation. His time away from home tonight speaks more loudly of his love for me and our family than anything else could.

Every day is Valentine's Day.

My heart flutters at his words.

This is the 20th February 14th we've shared together. Two decades building a life that celebrates our love for God and for each other. And for the girl who's suddenly taller than her mama. I am a woman who loves words and he is a man of few. But who needs a store-bought card when everything he does whispers how much he loves me?

He agrees for me to pursue something my heart must, despite the complications and inevitable questions. His understanding, encouragement and support are far more lovely than the most poetic card.

He doesn't complain that the floors haven't been mopped and the clothes haven't been put away. His quiet acceptance is far more meaningful than jewelry that sparkles.

He stays awake long after the lights are extinguished, listening to my heart secrets there in the dark. Our conversations are richer than even the most exquisite chocolate.

It's not the stuff movies are made of.

It is much, much more.

My beloved is mine, and I am his. - Song of Solomon 2:16 (ESV)

Fiery Love - Revisited

2011-02-09T09:03:00.000-05:00

More questions from the girls.

"Has it been hard?"

Oh my, yes.

I searched for words to adequately describe the work required in a marriage. The tremendous effort. The sacrifice. The death of most expectations harbored in a teenage girl's heart. Knowing their limited life experience would give no point of reference, I let the cliche' Marriage is hard work tumble past my lips.

They didn't get it. They won't until they're in my shoes, looking back at a commitment that's lasted for most of my adult life. Marveling at God's grace. Knowing there's no way we would be standing here without Him.

Yes, there are still goosebumps and winks and stolen kisses. There is laughter and passion and respect. There is also foolishness and selfishness and pride. We may be perfect for each other, but we are far from perfect. We are sinners, this man I love and I.

I read the words of Zechariah, and I see the picture of us.

In the whole land, declares the LORD,

two thirds shall be cut off and perish,

and one third shall be left alive.

And I will put this third into the fire,

and refine them as one refines silver,

and test them as gold is tested.

They will call upon my name,

and I will answer them.

I will say, 'They are my people';

and they will say, 'The LORD is my God.'"

-Zechariah 13:8-9 (ESV)

We are a marriage of three. He, me and Him. The three of us work together, carving away everything that isn't Him. It is a painful, arduous work that won't be finished. Not here.

As two individuals are cut away, the remnant is placed in the fire. Melded together in the furnace, a far better offering. In the scorching fire, our parched throats cry out to Him. We plead for deliverance. We praise His Name.

At just the moment when we can bear the heat no more, He tenderly pulls us out. He wipes off the soot. Allows us to rest, cool. Then with the love of a Father, He gently begins carving again.

(*from the archives)

Around the House: February

2011-02-07T07:00:00.004-05:00

It's not quite as dark when I arrive home from work these days. The field behind our house is bathed in hues of pink and purple. The clothes line stands bare, beams stretched wide like arms waiting patiently to embrace its work. The garden boxes are groaning under the weight of weeds, desperate to be cleaned up and to birth new life.

These are the final days of playing games in warmth of the fireplace glow, snuggling under quilts stitched with love, and the coziness of flannel pajamas. The quiet winter evenings will soon give way to longer days marked by the boisterous chirps of spring and the kaleidoscope of colors bursting forth.

I am not ready to let go, so I cling tightly to soft music that washes over us during dinner, the conversations about middle school days and college days and work days. The Light of Life still burns brightly on our table as we read His story.

The music continues, ushering in our nightly routine of study. He pours over the business books while she works through The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn and I think long on the spiritual journey of a past President.

Sometime during the evening, I drink in the sound of piano keys playing the same tune again and again. I pray for this gift to grow, thankful for her eagerness to use it for His glory.

I soak up the mornings dark when he reaches for my hands and says, "Are you ready to pray?" I listen intently as his voice changes before the throne of grace and I choke out whispers in agreement.

I wonder if I will just pool into tears at the beauty of these sacred moments.

Then laundry and dishes demand attention. Floors need sweeping and surfaces need cleaning. Bills have to be paid and apologies have to be spoken. Real life invades hard, splintering the image of the perfect home I have conjured in my mind.

But in those last moments of consciousness, after we've kissed goodnight and declared our love, I smile at the memory of the day He made and know that it was good.

Behind the Label

2011-02-03T08:00:00.000-05:00

Once I started reading the labels on boxes, I stopped buying them. The lists of ingredients I couldn't pronounce frightened me. No longer fooled by clever packaging and unproven claims, I saw them for the imitations they are. I determined that artificial is no longer good enough.

Trips to the grocery store take longer because I am still investigating packages to find what's best for my family. It's worth the time. I've become wise enough not to trust the product label. I search to see what's inside.

Labels are deceiving. They make us believe we know what we see. I think about how many times I've bought something - food, theology, relationships - based upon its label without considering all the ingredients. I've allowed labels, rather than the actual contents, to define my choices.

The belittling words of a respected church leader still ring in my ears, sting my heart. He applied the label with a nervous chuckle that did little to hide his lack of understanding. My feeble reply came soft. Then, unwilling and too weak to argue, I seized the first opportunity to escape.

Did the labels stick to Jesus' heart the way this one is sticking to mine?

Since that hurtful conversation, I read some wonderfully wise words written by John Piper. I am studying them, along with the Scriptures listed, to prepare myself to make a defense for the hope in me (see 1 Peter 3:15).

I don't know if I will have the courage to face the one who categorized me, but I do know that I am more than a congregant of a particular church. I am more than a member of a particular denomination. I am more than a believer in a particular theological school of thought.

I am so much more than a label.

I long to be, as Piper so eloquently writes, a [r]adical, full-blooded, Bible-saturated, Christ-exalting, God-centered, mission-advancing, soul-winning, church-loving, holiness-pursuing, sovereignty-savoring, grace-besotted, broken-hearted, happy follower of the omnipotent, crucified Christ! Anything else is not good enough.

I have not attained it, but I keep pressing on. In the meanwhile, I find solace in the words of my Sovereign, who looks behind the label.

For the LORD sees not as man sees: man looks on the outward appearance, but the LORD looks on the heart. ~1 Samuel 16:7 (ESV)

A Losing Battle Revisited

2011-02-02T09:15:00.000-05:00

"Do you fight a lot?"

The last question from the girls.

No, not really. Rarely, even.

It's true now. In that first year, that year of learning each other and making two into one, scared of losing our individuality and independence. Oh yeah...we fought.

In the years that followed, typical marital spats arose. One topic always stirred the anger. R would avoid it, but I foolishly jumped on it every chance I could. Beating it to death, only to resurrect it and start all over again. In God's grace and mercy have I been able to walk away from it. Finally, I have enough security in Him, in this marriage He's put together, and in the love for me He's placed inside my man's heart that I can leave it alone.

In the process, I've learned a powerful truth.

Many things are worth fighting for.

Many things are worth fighting against.

Few things are worth fighting about.

Joe: You know, sometimes I wonder...
Kathleen: What?
Joe: Well... if I hadn't been Fox Books and you hadn't been The Shop Around the Corner, and you and I had just, well... met...
Kathleen: I know.
Joe: Yeah. I would have asked for your number, and I wouldn't have been able to wait twenty-four hours before calling you and saying, "Hey, how about... oh, how about some coffee or, you know, drinks or dinner or a movie... for as long as we both shall live?"
Kathleen: Joe...
Joe: And you and I would have never been at war. And the only thing we'd fight about would be which video to rent on a Saturday night.
Kathleen: Well, who fights about that?
Joe: Well, some people. Not us.
Kathleen: We would never.
~from You've Got Mail

*reposted from the archives

Living on the Altar

2011-02-01T07:00:00.002-05:00

John answered, “A person cannot receive even one thing unless it is given him from heaven."
~John 3:27 (ESV)

I appeal to you therefore, brothers, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship.
~Romans 12:1 (ESV)

A Question for You

2011-01-27T09:54:00.000-05:00

The question has been swirling in my mind since I first heard an answer that doesn't quite fit. In the mad dash of getting ready for the day, I ask my man his thoughts. We are like-minded in our response. Are we grounded in truth in this? Because that's all that really matters.

And so, I pose the question to you and ask for the Truth you are relying upon in your answer. I intend to search the Scriptures on this myself, but your comments will be a great starting point for us all.

What is our purpose?

A Marriage Prayer Revisited

2011-01-26T09:08:00.000-05:00

Give him boldness and wisdom to rebuke and exhort me when I am unfaithful to Your Word, when I neglect prayer, fail to redeem the time, speak carelessly, walk foolishly, fail to hope in You, seek great things for myself, become anxious about tomorrow. Do not let him cease praying for me when I am beset with the fear of man, the cares of the world, or the love of money.
~Excerpted from
Prayers Of An Excellent Wife: Intercession For Him

I read. Close my eyes. Sigh. Open my eyes.

I re-read.

Lord...

I want to pray. I do. My mind wants to make this prayer one of my heart. But my heart is desperately sick. It causes the hairs on the back of my neck bristle. It bucks against being tamed. It triggers the innate self-preservation mechanism.

Why should I make these words my own? How can he notice my sins and call them out? He's a sinner himself. He should examine the plank in his own eye before plucking out the speck in mine. There's absolutely no need to invite rebuke. Besides, he doesn't have the right...

I squeeze my eyes shut against the voice of the deceiver, the one who works to convince me of rights and entitlements that have nothing to do with the unshakable Kingdom. In 17 years, I have never uttered such a prayer. Shouldn't I leave well enough alone?

Yet I am resolved to be different. To grow. To stretch. To learn. To pray that my husband will do the same.

The clutch of my palm relaxes, and I set it free. The desire to control, to judge. I see the lines of my hand running deep, mere imitations of the scars He bore. Scars that give Him alone the right to control, to judge. And He has established this covenant of marriage, this protective covering.

In His wisdom and care, He has given me a husband who will not crush my heart in judgment. I can trust him with my heart, just as I trust the Maker of my heart. I said "I Do" to a man who knew my faults and pledged to love me in spite of them. Oh, how he has!

In the quiet still, I know the truth of the matter. It is only the sound of my voice speaking that I fear, as if that would somehow make the words more true. For though I have never prayed these words, my husband has obeyed them. Even when I have not obeyed them, he has. Thank You, Lord. He has.

I bow my head. The words feel uncomfortable on my lips. My heart quickens, tries to resist. I press on as I begin to pray...

*reposted from the archives

What's On My Nightstand - January 2011

2011-01-25T09:25:00.000-05:00

Sometimes I wonder how tall it would be, the stack of books I want to read. My virtual shelf has 164 titles waiting, books others recommend and I want to remember. I will get to them one day. My Amazon wish list, which does not overlap, consists of more than 50 books I'd like to own so I can savor them without the limitations of my library's lending policy. These are the ones I want to fill with handwritten notes and highlights, and dog-ear the pages to my heart's content.

It would be - and it has been - easy to get lost in the 200 books before me. The longer they've been on my list, the further they get pushed down on it. I grab books on a whim, with no clear plan. I find myself in the middle of too many books at once, never giving one the full attention it deserves.

This year, I've determined to change that with a monthly reading plan. I've made a list for the first six months, to keep my wandering mind on track and to hold myself accountable. Each month, I will read three books: one fiction, one biography/memoir, and one for spiritual growth. I may - and most likely will - read more, but I will finish the books on my list before moving on.

January:

~Fiction: The Chosen, the story of two Jewish teenage boys during the 1940s, one chosen by his father to be a rabbi and the other who has chosen himself to be a rabbi. Intense, thought-provoking, and educational.

~Biography/Memoir: Life Together: The Classic Exploration of Faith in Community. My first reading of Bonhoeffer. Encouraging and convicting, this book has given me a new appreciation for my church family.

~Spiritual Growth: Made to Crave: Satisfying Your Deepest Desire with God, Not Food. My small attempt at a review can be found here.

~Not on the list: The Heart Mender: A Story of Second Chances. Andrews says the premise of the story is true, as unbelievable as it seems. This book provided much conversation during our recent journey home.

February:

~Fiction: Amy Inspired, because author Bethany Pierce inspires me with her honest writing.

~Biography/Memoir: Walking with Lincoln: Spiritual Strength from America's Favorite President, in honor of his birthday.

~Spiritual Growth: Margin: Restoring Emotional, Physical, Financial, and Time Reserves to Overloaded Lives, because I need this more than I can say.

Other readers are sharing what's on their nightstands at 5 Minutes for Books.

Made to Crave

2011-01-24T18:11:00.000-05:00

The list of things I crave taunts me.

Love
Approval
Recognition
To be thin

These, among others, have wreaked havoc on the majority of my life. Why can't I crave only one thing...the One thing that matters more than the sum total of all other useless and harmful things my heart seems set upon?

When the offer to review Lysa TerKeurst's latest book Made to Crave came my way, I couldn't ignore it. I was hopeful that Lysa might have some insight for me. Her to-the-point writing hit me over the head early on

With Jesus, if we want to gain, we must give up.
If we want to be filled, we must deny ourselves.
If we want to truly get close to God, we'll have to distance ourselves from other things.
If we want to conquer our cravings, we'll have to redirect them to God.
(p. 16, emphasis mine)

There, in black and white, my struggle found its voice.

Since I've started reading, I've been pondering how I can redirect my cravings. Can I give up these intense needs that are not only sworn enemies, but dysfunctional friends? Do I want to? Or would I, like the man invalid for nearly as long as I've been alive...would I rather wallow in self-pity than accept his offer of healing?

Difficult questions. Am I the only one haunted by them?

If these thoughts follow you, you too will find comfort (and blessed conviction) in Made to Crave. Lysa's hard-fought wisdom does not apply only to food.

Please don't rely on my words alone. You can read what others think about this book by visiting the blog tour. You can also learn about the accompanying Bible study materials here. Finally, you can click the button below to learn how to win a Kindle, a generous offering from Lysa herself.

Traveling a Familiar Path

2011-01-24T11:00:00.002-05:00

We've been down this road before, he and I. We travel down the interstate, just the two of us in a car packed with a couple of suitcases and the excitement of time alone. I notice the exit sign for the city where we spent our first night as man and wife. I think back to that long journey for our honeymoon and how the hours were lost in the endless conversation of two young lovers, giving voice to dreams of a new life. Unsure of everything except each other.

We pass the billboard that reduced us to giggles all those years ago. Nearly two decades later it still looms tall over the road, no worse for the wear. It remains a private joke, a talisman that marks the beginning of our life together. I wonder how many times we've quoted that billboard to each other over the course of our marriage. It reduces us to giggles still.

At our destination the next morning, I draw back the curtains to discover what the darkness hid at our arrival.

How many times have I looked out at an ocean - this ocean - with him? I've lost count. The years have slipped by like grains of sand. Gray hair and wrinkles find us in the mirror. I consider the magic of my hand slipping into his, fitting just as snugly as I imagine it did the very first time he took it. Although I can't recall just when that was, and that makes me sad. I don't want to take any more moments of our lives for granted; don't want to lose memories that I should be storing up like treasures. Yet there are so many already gone, faded into long ago sunsets and washed away by rolling tides. That, too, makes me sad.

The days away come to an end at just the right time. We are eager to return home to the melodic rhythm of daily life. To a girl who called us so often that it hardly felt as if we'd left. To a home that is our haven.

We pack and begin another long ride filled with endless conversation of two old lovers, giving voice to dreams of a new life. Unsure of everything except each other and God.

Living in this Day

2011-01-12T09:00:00.003-05:00

100 Days stretch out long before me. This is my second attempt. The first abandoned before I could count three.

Bad habits are so hard to break. Good habits equally as difficult to make.

I pray, give myself some grace, and start again. This time pondering what I can give before making the list.

~Bible reading at a slower, more comfortable pace. The rhythm of reading and re-reading a passage for days on end, reveling in the words and their deeper meaning. Finding new treasures each day. Smiling to myself at the realization that the words are becoming familiar friends, staying with me long after I've left the quiet darkness of the morning behind.

~Taking care of myself so that I am not a tired, out-of-sorts wife and mama. Making the effort to have as much energy as possible to meet their needs.

~Daring to love as Christ does, in this season now more than ever.

Can I do this? Even just three things, for 100 days, seems unlikely, if not impossible. And so I don't look there. I don't even look at the next page. I look only at today and think about how delighted I will be to place check marks in three boxes as the day draws to an end. Then I will rest long and peacefully before starting again tomorrow.

Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble. ~Matthew 6:34 (ESV)

Join others at Ann's to find encouragement in the practice of making a habit.

Beginning Again

2011-01-10T08:00:00.002-05:00

His backpack sat lonely in a corner of our bedroom for the past month. He needed a break from it, from the books inside that that weighed heavily on his back and on his brain. For one wonderful month he didn't worry with papers, required reading, or exams. There was no girl cast aside while her dad scratched out calculus problems and her mama's fingers raced over the keyboard, taking handwritten words to the screen. There was no mad scramble to clear books from the table at dinner time. There were no doubts and fears.

There was just us.

The girl returned to school a week ago, coming home each afternoon with algebra problems and Tom Sawyer. Reality slowly crept back into our lives. Even though we've been on this path for months now, it is still unfamiliar. Terrifying at times. Exhilarating at others.

There is so much newness on this path. Today is a new semester. New books, new professors, new schedules, new apprehensions. I bristle against the thought of the coming adjustments, and pray the start of this semester is not as bumpy as the last.

In his pre-college days, my husband enjoyed lifting weights at the gym. You build muscle by tearing it, he would tell me. Like unused muscles, we have grown cold in our comfort. In order to stretch, we must be torn. In order to be built up, we must first be broken down.

I know somehow in all of this stretching and tearing, we are being built up. I know it.

I'm praying I will learn to believe it.

Behold, I am doing a new thing;

now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?

I will make a way in the wilderness

and rivers in the desert.

~Isaiah 43:19 (ESV)

Living in the Word

2011-01-05T11:00:00.000-05:00

January comes, stark white. My front yard still not emerging from the foot of snow that blanketed the last week of December. The calendar pages are pristine, beautiful in their emptiness. Days yet to be counted set before me, a fresh start. The Year of Giving has arrived, full of promise.

As I learned yesterday, giving must take place inside my home before it can take place out in the wide world. Eve is only set before us as a wife and a mother - those roles, her most important. The ones we should cling to as most important. In the perfection of Eden, she had no other obligations. This world is not the Garden and I find myself stretched thin as tissue paper, afraid I'll tear into shreds at any minute.

How will I be able to give then?

This fresh year sparks a desire for a fresh start. The opportunity to begin good habits.

In this Year of Giving, I will give myself the Word of God in a new way, savoring each precious morsel rather than consuming without thought.

Instead of being intimidated by the thought of having to read the Bible through in a year (and the dread, failure and guilt which inevitably ensued), I am spending the year in the Word using this plan (an answer to prayer!). Soaking in the Word, meditating on it, and hopefully living in it.

I am also memorizing fighter verses to hide the Word in my heart, fight the good battle, and fend off the enemy. (Thank you, John Piper & Bethlehem Baptist Church).

I'm giving myself the habit of spending valuable time in the only Words that matter. It's the best give I'll ever receive.

A Prayer for a Tuesday

2011-01-04T11:00:00.000-05:00

The lyrics wash over me, seeping into my skin and penetrating my bones. They become my prayer when I'm on my way to work, ashamed at how I raised my voice this morning in frustration and how I didn't even thank my husband who stepped in for me when my head was throbbing so hard I couldn't see straight.

Don't want to leave them hungry for love,
Chasing things that I could give up

I'll show them I'm willing to fight
And give them the best of my life
So we can call this our home
Lead me, 'cause I can't do this alone.

I ponder the length of the list of things I chase, things with no value or significance. What pursuits of mine leaving my family hungry for love? Am I so easily lured by the meaningless because I fear the meaningful?

I consider the best of my life. Have I found it yet? Would I know it if I saw it? Would they?

My family deserves more than the half-hearted attempts, the leftovers of my life. This man and girl I've been entrusted to love, they should have a wife and mama who is in fighting shape and who is ready to battle any force that threatens our home. Lord, lead me. I can't do this alone.

I read the many words impressed on others' hearts this year. Glorious themes that I wish He had burned on my own soul. Words like imperfect and depend, love and here. I covet those words, those journeys. I long to set my feet on those paths. Yet I am called to give. Not just outside my home, but first and foremost in it.

To give love...hugs and cuddles, words that build.

To give understanding...when he is crushed under the weight of school and she is held captive by pre-teen hormones.

To give help...when forms need completing, books need ordering, and papers need typing.

To give time...at the dinner table, at the homework table, and at the game table.

To give of myself instead of taking for myself.

The Year of Giving will be a challenge and I'm not sure I'm up to the task. I'm forever grateful that I know the One Who is.

(*lyrics from "Lead Me", by Sanctus Real)

January - Giving to Neglected Children

2011-01-03T08:00:00.000-05:00

The Christmas decorations will soon be dismantled, but the Spirit of Christmas will live on in our home. The Year of Giving is about to commence, our first project already chosen.

Rather than tossing Christmas cards out with the wrapping paper, we are giving them new life at the St. Jude's Ranch. There, in the hands of neglected, abused, and abandoned children, they will be transformed.

Such a simple thing, to collect something that would normally be thrown away and pass it along. For the cost of postage, we can send the Spirit of Christmas across the country. We'll continue to gather cards throughout the year. We're enlisting family and friends to help.

An envelope filled with discarded greeting cards can help change a life.

Visit the Ranch to find out more.

Will you join us in A Year of Giving? Pray that the Lord will open your eyes to new opportunities to give and share the love of Christ with others. In God's kingdom, the heart of the giver matters more than the size of the gift.

Jesus looked up and saw the rich putting their gifts into the offering box, and he saw a poor widow put in two small copper coins. And he said, "Truly, I tell you, this poor widow has put in more than all of them. For they all contributed out of their abundance, but she out of her poverty put in all she had to live on." - Luke 21:1-4 (ESV)

His Flame Still Burns Bright

2010-12-30T07:00:00.002-05:00

The Advent altar has been disassembled. Four candles burned to nubs, thrown away. Yet the bright white one still stands tall. I couldn't bear to put it in storage. It deserves new life, as the One it represents has given us.

I pull out a white linen cloth once handed down from my husband's grandmother. I reminisce about the strong foundation she laid for my man, and how she loved the Gospel of Luke. The white cake stand has been turned upside down, and I can't help but think of how His life has turned my own topsy-turvy. I scrounge to find white candles left over from last year's Advent wreath, placing them in silver candlesticks gifted to us on the day we began our new life together. I steal the votives from the nativities set up around the house. No one waits in the manger, for the Child has already come.

The tableaux is complete.

In these quiet winter evenings, His light will burn bright as we gather for dinner and feast on the Word. As we read through the Gospels until Easter, we will light the candle representing His life. We will remember how we anticipated His birth as we wonder at His life. Then we will fix our gaze toward Calvary, to be humbled all over again at His death and to marvel anew at His resurrection.

Yes, Christmas Day is done, but the Christmas Child still reigns.

(*Still Unwrapping Jesus @ Faith Barista)

2011 - A Year of Giving

2010-12-29T08:50:00.001-05:00

It is our shame & disgrace today that so many Christians...go through this world in the spirit of the priest and the Levite in our Lord's parable, seeing human needs all around them, but (after a pious wish, and perhaps a prayer, that God might meet them) averting their eyes, and passing by on the other side. That is not the Christmas spirit. Nor it is the spirit of those Christians - alas, they are many - whose ambition in life seems limited to building a nice middle-class Christian home, and making nice middle-class Christian friends, and bringing up their children in nice middle-class Christian ways, and who leave the sub-middle-class sections of the community, Christian and non-Christian, to get on by themselves.
~J.I. Packer
excerpted from Come, Thou Long-Expected Jesus: Experiencing the Peace and Promise of Christmas

The words slice my heart deep and I catch my breath. I wriggle in my seat, squirm at the conviction. Seeing yourself in words is uncomfortable sometimes.

The pain of realization is fresh. I know what I must do. No excuses, no rationalizations.

I'm setting aside the theme I had planned for next year. A new one calls urgently, unrelentingly.

2011 will be A Year of Giving.

Each month, my family will consciously seek to share Jesus in practical, life-changing ways. We will look for opportunities to give of our time, money, and talents.

Even though our income has been drastically reduced.

Even though our spare time is in short supply.

Even though we don't overflow with talent.

The goal is at least one project a month, but I am praying that we will be stretched to give more, to love more. That we can help change lives but, more importantly, that our lives will be changed. That we will be more aware of our blessings. That we will come to this time next year with a deep appreciation for what we have been given, and a burning desire to continue giving to others. That giving will become second nature, a way of living.

This theme is different from the others. It's shifting our perspective from what we can gain to what we can give.

Everyone to whom much was given, of him much will be required, and from him to whom they entrusted much, they will demand the more.

- Luke 12:48 (ESV)

- Luke 21:1-4 (ESV)

When Christmas Isn't a Letdown

2010-12-28T11:27:00.001-05:00

Reading the Christmas story.

Unwrapping presents.

Breakfast and laughter with dear friends. Toddler squeals and little boy hugs.

An afternoon cuddled under quilts, the love poured into each hand stitch warming us through.

A quiet, candlelight dinner and the final Advent reading.

Christmas carols played by hesitant fingers reaching for the right keys and stumbling over a few notes. Voices raised in praise anyway. Joy to the World!

Soft white flakes falling to the ground, bringing an answer to the prayer I've whispered every year since childhood. Finally, a white Christmas.

And for the first time in so many years I've lost count, there was no This is it? or I can't believe it's over stirring in my heart. I wasn't tempted to think about the hours I'd spent working, only to see the fruit of my labors consumed within mere minutes.

A short gift list saved me from hours of shopping.

A short grocery list saved me from hours of baking.

A short activity list saved me from hours away from home and family.

Instead of preparing for the holiday, preparing for His coming. Not anticipating a perfect Christmas, but a perfect Christ. Longing more to light that final candle than to unwrap any gift under the tree.

When the expectation of Christmas is Christ Himself, there are no disappointments and no letdowns.

There is no guilt for not finding the perfect gift, because we know it's already been given and there's no way to top it.

There is no shame in not filling the kitchen with food that spoils, because we know the Bread of Life sustains us.

There is no remorse in skipping parties and productions, because we know a lowly manger hosted the greatest celebration the world has ever known.

There is only joy because even though Christmas Day is done, we know the Christmas Child still reigns.

Book Review: The Clouds Roll Away

2010-12-22T16:45:00.001-05:00

It's been forever since I've participated in a blog tour or posted a book review. My reading habits have definitely changed in the past few months, with R in college. But I couldn't pass up the opportunity to read The Clouds Roll Away by Sibella Giorello. I'm so glad I didn't.

The Clouds Roll Away is the latest installment in the Raleigh Harmon series. I met Raleigh in The Stones Cry Out, and I just adore the forensic geologist turned FBI agent (is that a cool job or what?). Raleigh is perfectly imperfect. She's good at her job, even though she bends the rules. Back in Virginia after a disciplinary transfer, Raleigh finds herself trying to solve a series of hate crimes targeting famous rapper RPM. Her investigation takes Raleigh to a crack house, a prison, and the home of a known member of the Klu Klux Klan. As if that weren't enough, Raleigh finds herself dealing with her mother's increasing mental issues, her tenant's increasing distant and strange behavior, and her ex-boyfriend's increasing attentions.

If you enjoy a fast-paced, riveting read, do yourself a favor and check out The Clouds Roll Away. You'll thank me for it. (You can buy the book here)

To find out more about author Sibella Giorello and the entire series, visit her website. Check out the blog tour and see what others are saying here.

Sibella’s celebrating the release of The Clouds Roll Away by giving away a KINDLE prize pack worth over $150.00!

One Grand Prize winner will receive:

Latest Generation KINDLE with Wi-Fi
$25 gift certificate to Amazon.com

To enter simply click on one of the icons below! Then tell your friends! Winner will be announced January 3, 2011 on Sibella's blog: http://sibellagiorello.blogspot.com/.

About The Clouds Roll Away - "Beautifully written with exquisite descriptions, Giorello's mystery also features well-developed characters..."
—Booklist, starred review

Find out more here!

The Advent Altar - Part IV

2010-12-20T07:00:00.002-05:00

(Read why we have an Advent altar here. This is the final post in a series on how we put our altar together. You can also read Part I, Part II, & Part III.)

The Family completes our Advent Altar. Joseph, man of honor and strength, who agreed to raise a child not of his flesh. Mary, girl of faith and deep thoughts, who subjected her reputation and her life to God's plan. And Jesus, the baby who created the couple who would raise him from infancy. God bound by flesh and time. A miracle our human minds will never fully understand.

The other nativities around our home are complete with shepherds and wisemen, stable animals and angels. This one alone is the family of three, sitting quietly on the altar where our family of three gathers each evening to prepare our hearts for the Coming One.

May you be filled with Hope this Christmas, as you prepare for His coming.

Because of Jesus,
Melissa

Eyes Wide Open

2010-12-15T07:00:00.000-05:00

Christmas is tougher this year.

Not because there are fewer presents. There are still plenty.

Not because there are fewer decorations. The ones scattered among our home are the most meaningful.

Not because I didn't send Christmas cards. I stopped doing that years ago.

And not because the calendar is too full. Although, honestly, it's more full than I would like and I'm already committing that next year will be different.

Christmas is tougher because I've been reading about Katie's work in Uganda, watching Eric's video about our Depraved Indifference, thumbing through the Samaritan's Purse catalog, and thinking about all the Compassion children who need sponsors. Feed the World comes on the radio, and I listen intently to the words -think of the children they're about - instead of trying to remember which popular singers took part in the Band Aid project.

I want to reach out to them. Give until it hurts. But my little drop in the bucket is just that. The truth is, no matter what I give, someone will still be hungry. Someone will still be homeless. Someone will die from a curable disease or lack of clean water. Someone will still need Christ.

The need is overwhelming to me. At times it crushes my chest so that I can barely breathe. Tears well up and rain down my cheeks. I don't understand.

Why them?

Why me?

Why do I get to sit on my sofa and look at these images through the veil of a laptop screen?

Why do I get to put them out of sight and move on to the next thing?

Why did you open my eyes to this hurt, Lord?

And then I realize that, painful as it is, I do not want to go back. After the nativities are nestled safely in storage containers and the Christmas tree is boxed up for another year, I do not want to return to the world of comfortable oblivion. I want to keep walking toward my Savior, loving others as He instructs me to love them. To give from the ridiculous abundance I have been given.

The message of Christmas doesn't belong packed away with the decorations. It must be lived out every day of the year.

I ponder what that means for my family, pray for guidance and wisdom. Will you join me?

The Advent Altar - Part III

2010-12-14T06:30:00.009-05:00

(Read why we have an Advent altar here. This is the 3rd post in a series on how we put our altar together. You can also read Part I & Part II)

We continue to prepare for His arrival. Each night after we read, we count. Down, not up. It increases the anticipation. The numbers wait, nestled alongside tacks that bring to mind the nails used to pierce His skin. The stack gets shorter each night. We are filled with eagerness to get to the card that proclaims, "He is Born!"

Already I know next year will look different. Behind each number is a picture from Ann's Jesse Tree Devotional. Next December, we will line all the numbers on the board and turn them over each day as we read the devotions. But this year, as we learn to find Him in our traditions, the numbers are enough.

They point to the promise. Not of the night a man in a red suit comes down the chimney, but of the night God, wrapped in human flesh, came down to earth.

This Christmas message is that there is hope for a ruined humanity - hope of pardon, hope of peace with God, hope of glory - because at the Father's will Jesus Christ became poor and was born in a stable so that thirty years later he might hang on a cross. It is the most wonderful message that the world has ever heard, or will hear.
-J.I. Packer, Knowing God excerpted in
Come, Thou Long-Expected Jesus: Experiencing the Peace and Promise of Christmas.

Christmas in the Middle

2010-12-10T07:21:00.002-05:00

Ann wrote of being pregnant with Christmas, of being stretched to the limit by God. I nod as I read. Today, I understand.

Today feels like I am stretched further than I've been since we started on this journey. I imagine Mary great with child and riding on a donkey, its every move jarring her teeth and sending shockwaves of pain up her back. The end is near. Soon her son will arrive. The pain of being mother to the Savior, unknown to her. She can only think of bringing forth the child, giving her body relief. Joseph feels it, too. They are weary.

I am weary.

Just a few hours away from the end of my man's first semester back in college. I am so full with the expectation of it that I could burst. We don't know what next semester will bring, but today I am ready to put these hard months behind us. To take a break. To be a normal family again, if only for a few weeks.

Sometimes the path God puts us on isn't easy. I've learned that over and over again these past 13 months. Mary and Joseph had a difficult and long journey to Bethlehem. It didn't seem logical. Could Joseph have claimed extenuating circumstances, pleaded to stay at home until the baby was born? Yet they went in obedience, on a journey that took who knows how long. Bethlehem must have been a welcome sight.

I tell myself that we, too, are giving birth. Not to a child, but to a new life. Like Mary, I am eager to leave the road and settle in. This last day, these last exams, will soon be behind us. I look at how far we've come since last Christmas. I dream of next Christmas, when, Lord willing, my man will be graduating. Yet we are here, at this Christmas in the middle. It's not comfortable, but even though I am worn with exhaustion, I wouldn't chose to be anywhere but here.

The Advent Altar - Part II

2010-12-08T09:30:00.006-05:00

(Read why we have an Advent altar here. This is the 2nd post in a series on how we put our altar together. Part I can be found here)

Before lighting the candle in our wreath each night, we read from the Word and from our Advent resource. This year we're learning to look for Jesus in The Adventure of Christmas: Helping Children Find Jesus in Our Holiday Traditions. We are able to see Him everywhere.

In the Christmas tree, standing tall to point to Heaven, arms outstretched like His were on the day He was crucified.

In the lights that mimic starlight falling on trees. Heavenly winks from our Creator.

In the ornaments, the fruit of the tree in the garden. The one that tempted Eve and ushered sin into the world. The one that represents our need for Christ.

This is why we celebrate Him.

The enemy has tried to capture these holy items, to desecrate them. He's tried to hide Jesus. We have let him. When we participate in Christmas traditions without seeking their true meaning, without searching out Christ, we are no different than those who want to keep Him hidden. When we share in the worldly holiday, we miss Christmas.

And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying, "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among those with whom he is pleased!"
- Luke 2:13-14 (ESV)

May we proclaim His glory in each of our traditions this Advent season.

The Advent Altar - Part I

2010-12-07T06:00:00.004-05:00

If you're here from (in)courage, greetings! Welcome to my humble corner of the web. Feel free to pour a cup of coffee, kick off your shoes, and browse around. If you're a regular visitor, you can also visit me over here today.

How do you build an altar for a set apart season?

First, the wreath itself.

Nothing fancy, just an evergreen wreath with some plastic berries and silver ribbon. Our candles aren't the traditional Advent colors. The composition itself isn't what matters. It's the soothing ritual, the hushed voices as we gather around the light, waiting for the Light.

In a season that the enemy tries to overcome with busyness and chaos, we take time to be intentional. To quiet our souls. To remind ourselves what we're about to celebrate.

We must both read and meditate upon the nativity. If the meditation does not reach the heart, we shall sense no sweetness, nor shall we know what solace for humankind lies in this contemplation. The heart will not laugh nor be merry. As spray does not touch the deep, so mere meditation will not quiet the heart. There is such richness and goodness in this nativity that if we should see and deeply understand, we should be dissolved in perpetual joy. - Martin Luther, excerpted from Come, Thou Long-Expected Jesus: Experiencing the Peace and Promise of Christmas (emphasis mine)

Finding What Matters in Christmas

2010-12-02T12:30:00.001-05:00

Even with its candle glowing, the Advent altar looked bare. A new Nativity scene, perhaps? After all, what's Christmas without the baby?

I looked in several stores, finding nothing that fit. Then I remembered my girl's childhood set, given by a friend. It would be just right there.

Can we move it to the altar?

But it's mine. I want it in my room.

And how can a mother argue with that?

I remembered a set in the attic, a small one I don't use anymore. I offered that to her. Once again, I was content to offer my leftovers to this sweet child. She reluctantly agreed.

When I went to find it, I found another I'd forgotten about. It fit perfectly.

I'm ashamed that I had casually tossed the Holy Family in with other Christmas decorations I no longer use...and there are many. I've tried numerous ways to deck our halls over the years, wanting to find the perfect combination befitting a magazine cover. I ran myself ragged, only to find that shiny baubles and figurines left me empty. Their shouts of look at me!, much too loud, drowned out the quiet of the manger.

This season is different.

Yes, there are still a few shiny baubles tucked among a small number of Santa Clauses from my youth. There are sappy holiday movies. There will be Christmas cookies, parties, and gifts.

But in the hushed glow of the Christmas tree

I gaze at the past - treasured decorations from my own childhood that bring to mind Christmases gone by.

I see the fiery love that has spanned nearly two decades - beautiful ornaments and trinkets given by my love.

I hear the quiet of the Heavenly hosts holding their breath in anticipation of God becoming man.

I feel the lump in my throat, as I swallow hard & resolve to no longer mar Christmas with my own self-indulgence.

I hear the beat of my own heart as I prepare Him room and wait expectantly for His arrival.

Thanksgiving Doesn't End Here

2010-11-30T07:00:00.000-05:00

The calendar page is turning from a grist mill surrounded by vibrant oranges and reds, to an old red barn blanketed by white...peaceful, expectant.

As much as I need this Advent season to focus my heart on the arrival of the God-child, I am sad to see November go. A month of intentionally giving thanks, of seeing Him in splendor more glorious than even the most beautiful autumn hues. Some of those sights are recorded here for all to see. Some, highly treasured, are written only on my heart.

And then there are these:

~the first playing of the Ave Maria

~a sweet sister in Christ, returning from China with big smiles and bright eyes bearing witness to His work

~God's gracious, incredibly generous provision

~my dear husband's words that woo and soothe my savage heart

~time alone with my closest friend, celebrating her life and just how much it means to my own

~my daughter's wisdom, knowing what I need when I don't even know it myself

~unpacking treasures from the attic. Among them, a stocking crocheted by my grandmother, a nativity painted by my mom, and the angel that sat atop our family's tree each year until it was passed down to me.

November is coming to an end, but a thankful heart never stops looking for the One who provides us with every good gift. He is all around us, waiting to be found.

Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will hear you. You will seek me and find me, when you seek me with all your heart. ~Jeremiah 29:12-13 (ESV)

A Season Set Apart

2010-11-29T10:02:00.003-05:00

Her head is bent, face hidden behind a curtain of curls. She stumbles over words, tough ones like Ephrathah. Yet she continues reading the Word of The One who will come. Then she reads about a Christmas tradition. We are reminded that we can find Christ in our celebration. He is everywhere, hidden beneath the boxes and bows, ornaments and obligations, food and festivities. And I wonder if He willingly humbled Himself to this as He did to the manger and the cross.

She lights the first candle and my heart is set afire with hope. Hope that this season will be different. That we will look for Him more earnestly. That we will no longer relegate Him to the background, but celebrate Him more fully.

The candle burns brightly in the corner of our kitchen. It illuminates the Word and this year's Advent resource. An ordinary kitchen table has been set apart for this season, an altar for the three of us to gather round each night in the dark quiet and prepare for the birth of our Immanuel.

How are you preparing for Him this season? Leave a comment here to share, and visit Ann and Christmas Change (both must reads) to see how others are practicing Christmas.

What's On My Nightstand: November

2010-11-23T09:17:00.000-05:00

Just Finished:

~Women's Ministry in the Local Church. I cannot recommend this book enough. This thought-provoking, Biblical approach to women's ministry goes beyond the current fluff served up to women.

Currently Reading:

~Jayber Crow. My first time reading Wendell Berry. I'm loving the rich language of this book, even though it's not a fast-paced read.

~The Holiness of God. Wow.

~Spiritual Depression: Its Causes and Cure. I'm working my way through this one slowly. It's not a light read, but it's heaviness is rich wisdom.

For Advent:

~Through the Year with Martin Luther: A Selection of Sermons Celebrating the Feasts and Seasons of the Christian Year. Luther's capacity to gain so much information and insight from a few words of Scripture constantly astounds me.

~Come, Thou Long-Expected Jesus: Experiencing the Peace and Promise of Christmas. I want to begin this one on December 1st so that I can read it right up until Christmas, but waiting is so hard.

Up Next:

~The Chosen. I've heard raves about this one. Anyone read it?

~Margin: Restoring Emotional, Physical, Financial, and Time Reserves to Overloaded Lives. Because I need this. So badly.

~A Way with Words: What Women Should Know about the Power They Possess. Because I need this one, too. So badly.

You can see what others are reading here.

Simple Beginnings

2010-11-22T07:30:00.002-05:00

The title grabbed my attention, How to Keep Your Desk Clear. I want that, I thought.

I read. I re-read.

I thought about how I could make it happen for my desks, at work and at home. I implemented some of the suggestions at work right away.

Who knew a clear desk could make such a difference?

But it has! In my attitude, my focus and my productivity.

It's been nearly three years since I declared 2008 the Year of Peace and Simplicity (relive the journey under the Yearly Themes tab at the top of the page). When the year ended, I intended to make it a life-long process, but it hasn't quite worked that way. Simplicity is wooing me again. I find myself letting go and rearranging and seeking to make the most of what we have, to treasure it.

I'll be writing more about that in the days and months to come. For today, I'm thankful for a clear desk.

The Tall & Short of It

2010-11-19T07:30:00.002-05:00

Wait, he says.

I think she's taller than you.

And so my girl and I stand back to back, shoulders brushing. Does she feel it, the time growing short as she grows tall? His hand moves from light brown to darker, straight to curly. He declares us the same height.

And I smile, though I feel like crying.

It won't be long before I'm the smallest in the family. I already feel so small

when I remember how a ruptured appendix could have ended her life in my womb;

when I recall our first meeting and seeing her, so new, in her dad's arms;

when I reflect on one of the first times she said Jesus, holding out her hands to me, closing her eyes and saying Let's touch Him now;

when I look back at the night she found salvation and the morning she was baptized;

when I listen to her talk about youth group and Bible study, friends and activities;

when I realize how special she is and how humbled I am to be chosen as her mother.

I feel so small at those times, but smaller still when I think about how quickly these first 12 years have gone and how much faster the next 6 will go. I'm running out of time to teach, to model, to encourage, to love.

For now I will cherish the sound of her calling Mommy, though each time I wonder if it will be the last.

For now, I will continue to look her in the eye, though I know soon I'll be looking up.

For now, I am thankful that I still have a girl in my home.

Thanksgiving - Day 18

2010-11-18T07:30:00.000-05:00

How long has it been since God arrived in my mailbox? I've had good intentions to reach out and let Jennifer know she is loved. I've let the multitude of ordinary tasks crowd out the chance to do something extraordinary.

And then He showed up in my mailbox again. Jennifer, reaching out to thank her correspondent. The girl with so much less than I, giving me the gift of life. She writes of her family and friends, her hobbies. She draws a picture of three hearts. I see mine, hers, and His. There, in the middle of her words I find the Word, encouragement especially for me.

My heart breaks. I have not been faithful. And in that moment, I want to pack my bags and fly to South America and find this precious girl who knows little of abundance but gave anyway. I want to throw her a lifeline, even though I am the one being rescued.

Today I am thankful for this child who has looked beyond her circumstances and offered love, hope and grace to a wretch like me.

And I pick up my pen to write.

Thanksgiving - Day 17

2010-11-17T07:30:00.005-05:00

Peace came first.

Then Faith, followed by Amazing Grace, Trust in the Lord and Simplify.

I've just added Great is They Faithfulness and Give Praise.

Small signs scattered around our home, touchstones that remind me of truth and Truth.

As I remove clutter and leave only items of true worth and significance, these words stand out more. I notice them more. I cling to them more. I am challenged to live them more.

Today, I am thankful for these words and the comfort and conviction they bring.

Finding More Margin

2010-11-16T07:35:00.000-05:00

The shrill cry of the alarm clock pierces the waves of slumber. I allow my eyes time to adjust to the darkness before rising, stealing out of our room and into my favorite chair. There, among the pens, highlighters, books, journal, and coffee, I open the Word and feast. My spirit is awakened as I rest in His presence. Quiet envelopes my soul.

Before I know it, the quiet dissipates. It has been replaced by noise, noise, noise.

deadlines
cell phone
internet
homework
housework
errands

So many things clamor for my attention, I find I can't keep up and keep my sanity. I need quiet. My family needs quiet.

I am thankful for the margin we've found, but we need more. I need more. In an effort to bring more quiet into my life and our home, I'm:

~once again looking at each room in our home, deciding what's clutter. When my eyes fall on something, I want it to have meaning rather than just taking up space. I've already decided to take a week off after the holidays to do some major purging.

~giving myself some careful guidelines with Facebook. No more posts about what my family's doing or what we've accomplished. I'm considering it to be a ministry opportunity, as I consider my blog to be. That calls for some changes.

~agreeing with my husband that 8:00 p.m. is the "technology curfew" in our home. No computer or cell phone allowed, for any of us unless schoolwork demands it.

~instituting 3-P Family Fridays. Homemade Pizza, Popcorn, and Play (board games or a family movie).

I'm sure this will continue to be a work in progress for us. What are you doing to protect your family's margin?

Thanksgiving - Days 11 - 15

2010-11-15T09:19:00.000-05:00

Playing catch-up today:

Day 11 - Thankful for the men & women who've sacrificed for my freedom, including my grandfather who fought in WWII.

Day 12 - Thankful that in 4 weeks, R's first semester will be over, and we'll be 1/3rd of the way there.

Day 13 - Thankful for our home. When I'm thankful for it, I don't mind cleaning it quite so much.

Day 14 - Thankful for the opportunity to teach 7th & 8th grade girls in Sunday School, including my own girl. I'm just the substitute teacher, but I love hanging out with them when I have the chance.

Day 15 - Thankful for the Lord's provision for my family through my job, which has helped make it possible for R to return to school and pursue his dream. I am thankful that I have a job that allows me to minister to my family in this way and serve them at home, too.

Visit Rebecca and Leah to see other thankful lists.

Thanksgiving - Day 10

2010-11-10T09:00:00.000-05:00

Some time during the Year of Peace and Simplicity I discovered the effect music has in the atmosphere of our home. I started by playing the "Singers and Standards" channel (Billie Holiday, Frank Sinatra) during meal times. I would play classical when I was reading, much to R & CJ's chagrin. I'm not quite sure how or when it happened, but they discovered that classical music is calming and very conducive to reading/studying. Now they're just as likely as I to turn on the music. We love how it softly fills the quiet, surrounding us with beauty and carrying away the cares of the world at the same time.

Not that I'm a musical snob. In fact I'm a little schizophrenic when it comes to music, as my list of 10 favorite albums indicates. In no particular order, they are:

1. Sinatra's Reprise Collection
2. Yo-Yo Ma's Appassionato
3. When Harry Met Sally: Music From The Motion Picture
4. George Winston's December
5. Randy Travis' Trail of Memories: Anthology
6. John Waller's While I'm Waiting
7. Big Daddy Weave's Every Time I Breathe
8. Billie's Best
9. Patsy Cline - The Definitive Collection
10. James Taylor: Greatest Hits

Today, I'm thankful for music.

(Giving thanks at Rebecca's and Leah's; also listing my 10 on the 10th at Meredith's)

Thanksgiving - Day 9

2010-11-09T09:12:00.000-05:00

It was wonderful to see her eyes sparkle with laughter. Faint, but noticeable. In the 25 years I've known her, she's always had a gleam in her eye to match her bubbly personality. Her husband's untimely death two months ago extinguished that light. As we sat around the table recounting stories of our youth, I saw her smile. My heart leapt when I heard the laughter burst forth from her throat.

After she left, I glanced over at my husband. How many times have I taken him for granted? How often do I ignore his needs in order to meet my own? Why don't I cherish him and serve him as if today is our last day together?

Because it could very well be.

Today I am thankful for my husband and the fiery love we share.

*Still giving thanks with Rebecca & Leah.

Thanksgiving - Days 6, 7, & 8

2010-11-08T09:15:00.001-05:00

She was a blur this weekend. My girl flitted in and out of the house, barely stopping long enough to eat and sleep. When she is home I often find myself staring her in the eye and wondering who this stranger is, the one who doesn't have to look up to me and who borrows my shoes. Even though I hardly recognize her these days, our home feels empty without her.

Still, I am thankful.

Thankful that she could spend a night with my parents and make memories with my dad.

Thankful that she could spend an afternoon and night with a friend who recently lost her dad.

Thankful that she was eager to go to church last night and spend time with the youth group.

All good things, true blessings. But I'll be thankful when she decides to spend some time at home again, too.

Thanksgiving - Day 5

2010-11-05T09:12:00.000-04:00

Elliot, Lloyd-Jones, Tchvidjian, Sproul, Duncan and Hunt. Then, of course, there's the the sword.

I start and end my days with them. They are now familiar friends, stacked on tables throughout our home.

Beckoning.

Teaching.

Comforting.

Convicting.

Today I am thankful for those mighty men & women of God who share their wisdom.

Thanksgiving - Day 4

2010-11-04T09:19:00.001-04:00

A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for adversity. - Proverbs 17:17, ESV

I've discovered many things this past year. One of the greatest has been my need for true friends.

Those who love with a hand-dirtying, death-defying, self-sacrificing love that is only possible because the nourishment of the True Vine courses through their veins.

Those whose knees are bloody from the battlefield of prayer, who've stood fast in the gap when I can't find my own voice. My Father has not ignored their constant, earnest pleas on my behalf.

Those who have faithfully and patiently sharpened me with the Word. I am prone to follow my own course, and they gently bring me back to the Way, the Truth, the Life.

Near and far, these are the friends I cherish. They are more precious than silver or gold. Today, and every day, I thank God for each one of them.

*Continuing a November of thanksgiving at Rebecca's & Leah's.

Thanksgiving - Day 3

2010-11-03T09:38:00.000-04:00

As a young girl, I couldn't wait to leave. To shake the dust off my Bass blucher moccasins and get out of this town that never understood me. Suitcases in hand, I tore out of here eager to separate myself from the smallness of my life here.

It wasn't long before I accepted the fact that the very thing I didn't want to be defined by was the one thing that defined me most.

I am a small town girl, and I'm thankful.

Thankful that I live in a place where my morning commute is slowed by tractors and trucks carrying hay bales rather than stop lights and cars with horns blaring;

that rush hour traffic means that my drive home takes 15 minutes instead of 12;

that if I forget my wallet, I can walk into the bank and get money from my account;

that I can feel comfortable when my daughter spends time at her friends' homes, because I've known their parents since we were children ourselves;

that she has classes with first cousins and can ride the bus to my parents' house;

that my town is the kind of place where you can buy a pumpkin in the gas station parking lot;

that the post office has a dry erase board with birthdays and community announcements.

So what if I listen to Yo-Yo Ma while driving a truck? This is where I belong.

Today, I am thankful for home.

Thankful

2010-11-02T10:59:00.003-04:00

My attempts to find margin have fallen flat lately. As a result, today I find myself weary. It's a heaviness that has crept into my bones and seems perfectly content to reside there.

Today I am thankful that October, with all its comings and goings and excess commitments, is behind me. I am thankful that the weekends of this month are free from excess.

I'm also grateful for opportunities and reminders to be thankful. I truly have so much to be thankful for.

A Couple of Announcements

2010-10-28T09:08:00.000-04:00

~I'm not sure anyone's noticed (if anyone's still reading)...but comments are back on every post.

~Today you'll catch me over here.

~And soon I'll have a guest post here:

What's going on in your world today?

Real Change

2010-10-26T07:00:00.000-04:00

I haven't blogged much about my journey into the world of real food. We are eating better and feel better, but I have yet to see the results I was hoping for on the scales.

I've been frustrated, to say the least. I haven't wanted to accept the fact that my commitment to change has not been as strong as it must be in order to actually see change. I've been cooking more real food for dinner, but hitting the drive-thru at lunch about once a week. Even though I'm eating better, I'm still eating too much. I haven't been exercising.

Why am I surprised that I haven't lost any more weight?

I'm reading Real Food Has Curves: How to Get Off Processed Food, Lose Weight, and Love What You Eat, and I highly recommend it (the authors also have a blog). This book isn't as scientific as Real Food: What to Eat and Why (which I loved, but had so much information I just couldn't keep track of it all), but it does a great job of breaking real food down to basics. I'm still pretty early into the book, but I've already learned that I eat so much because I'm not taking time to savor my food. I've noticed a big difference in the food I've been eating, but I still rush through it instead of taking the time to really enjoy the flavors.

I've started making a conscious effort to slow down while I eat, and it's really made a difference in how much I eat. Because I actually enjoy the food, I'm more satisfied. When my brain tells me it wants a snack between meals, I ask myself if I'm really hungry or just used to eating between meals. I'm paying more attention to what my body actually needs instead of what I think it needs.

I'm also becoming more aware of how much I eat food that I don't really enjoy. For example, I was rushing through my lunch hour one day and only had enough time to run by a fast food restaurant. I wasn't hungry, but I knew I wouldn't make it through the afternoon without something to eat. I got a small order of chicken nuggets (no fries). I made myself pay attention to every bite. When I finished them, I knew two things. First, I was full. (before, I would've eaten them and the fries, too). Second, chicken nuggets are tasteless and I don't like them. At first I was upset that I'd even wasted my time, money, and calories. Then I realized that this discovery was a learning experience.

I cleaned out our pantry. When we first started changing the way we eat, I said I wouldn't throw away food because it was so expensive. I changed my mind because, quite honestly, soup from a can just isn't good enough any more. By the time I was done, I'd thrown away quite a bit of expired food and had two shopping bags of food to donate to our food pantry. My pantry is still plenty full, but with a jar of homemade hot cocoa mix instead packets of powder claiming to be chocolate, bags of dried beans instead of canned beans with added chemicals, and canisters of different flours instead of boxes of baking mixes.

I want a life that is full, not one that is merely filled. My choices need to reflect that - in the way I eat, the way I spend my time, the things I allow in my home (decor, entertainment, social media, to name a few) and the people in my life. ALL of it needs to have one purpose - to glorify God.

It's only then that real change begins.

(And, yes, I will be exercising!)