He's Up to Something

Silence.  It can be a beautiful.  When days are full and noise is rampant, silence is something that I cherish.  Last week, I had 2 sick kids who were both napping, a another was at a friend’s house for the afternoon, and the remaining child was at school.  The afternoon, for 3 hours, was completely silent.  I hardly knew what to do with myself.  It was glorious. 

Silence.  It can be dangerous.  That kid.  You know the one.  When there is silence, there is trouble.  Someone is getting a haircut.  Something is getting unscrewed, torn apart, glued or taped.  One afternoon, I was folding laundry in my bedroom.  There was silence in the house while my youngest was sleeping and my son was watching his favorite show.  There comes a moment when things are too quiet.  I knew I needed to investigate but I didn’t want to interrupt the beautiful quiet.  "Just a few more minutes, and then I’ll check things out," I thought.  Just then, my son came running into the room crying, like he was in pain and a little scared.  He showed me what he had been doing.  I am still not sure what he was trying to do, but after seeing a battery and aluminum foil, I figured out what caused the tears.  My four year-old had created his own electrical science experiment.  Thankfully, other than learning a hard lesson, he wasn’t permanently injured.

Silence.  It can be frustrating.  When you are waiting for an answer and it just won’t come.  Many of my prayers are those of waiting.  God, show me, tell me what to do.  Yes or No?  Major life decisions, personal problems, family issues, and challenges with my children; sometimes clarity comes quickly, thankfully.  Most of the time, the answers come slowly, if at all.

Today is Good Friday, Holy Friday.  Jesus’ followers watch their best friend get humiliated and beaten, then put to die on a cross.  All they had known for three years, ended on that day, in silence. The disciples ran and hid, for fear of their own arrest.  They spent the next couple days, in frustrating, painful silence.

Why does God stay silent when we need to hear from Him?  Doesn’t he know the anguish his silence causes?  We are a need to know people!  We need an immediate response.

I wonder, if during that silence, Jesus' followers tried to think back over their time with him to remember anything and everything he said to them.  Jesus predicted his own death numerous times.  Luke actually records that the two angels at the tomb reminded the women what Jesus told them, “The Son of Man must be delivered into the hands of sinful men, be crucified and on the third day be raised again.” (Luke 24:7 NIV)  It was in that moment, the women “remembered his words”.  They connected the dots and had an AH-HA moment.   

He’s up to something.  When the disciples were waiting in silence for 3 days after Jesus’ death, God was up to something.  It’s as if God was saying, “Hold on, dear one, wait and see what I am going to do.”

Are you sitting and waiting in silence?  Waiting for God to bring an end to your pain or a cure for an illness?  Are you waiting on God to bring a loved one home or to piece together a broken marriage?

In the midst of the silence, God is working things out on your behalf.  It may take a little time, to change hearts and circumstances, but he is working.     

Hold on, dear one, wait and see what GOD is going to do!

Romans 8:26-28 The Message

Meanwhile, the moment we get tired in the waiting, God’s Spirit is right alongside helping us along. If we don’t know how or what to pray, it doesn’t matter. He does our praying in and for us, making prayer out of our wordless sighs, our aching groans. He knows us far better than we know ourselves, knows our pregnant condition, and keeps us present before God. That’s why we can be so sure that every detail in our lives of love for God is worked into something good.”

The Waiting by Jamie Grace

Easter is my Favorite

This is a re-post from last Easter.  Every word is still true for me today.  I pray it is true for you.  Let Jesus' resurrection take on a new meaning in your life this Easter!


It has nothing to do with the Easter Bunny, Easter Baskets, or the horrid Easter grass and plastic eggs that end up ALL.OVER.MY.HOUSE., months after Easter has passed.

For me, Easter is memories of my childhood. Easter meant getting a NEW dress. Emphasis on the word NEW. I was the youngest daughter in my family. On top of that, I also had a female cousin in- between myself and my older sister. So, hand-me-downs were pretty much all I had. Now, I had pretty nice hand-me-downs. I am not complaining here. My children have second-hand wardrobes...I am okay with this. However, Easter meant wearing something NEW.

Easter was getting up EARLY on Easter Sunday morning and going to the sunrise service at our church. Shivering outside with all of the congregation. Singing, “Up from the grave He arose...” and watching for which person was going to fall out because of standing for too long with their knees locked. It was hugging your family, your church friends, and all of the people who have known me since, well, birth.

Easter meant breakfast. After the sunrise service, we all headed to the fellowship hall to enjoy eggs, bacon, sausage, biscuits and homemade goodness. The deacons of our church were our waiters. We laughed and gave them a hard time. They secretly loved it. The joy that filled that room was something I will never forget. Eating breakfast with 100 of my closest friends and family.

I know, I know, Easter is more than clothes, getting up early, and food. However, these memories played a part in the foundation of my faith. The part that Easter is a BIG DEAL. For me, Easter is a bigger deal than any other holiday I celebrate...even Christmas...GASP!

On Easter, Christians focus on Jesus Christ; his life, death, AND resurrection. God didn't just send his Son to be a good guy and die a martyr's death, but God sent Jesus to BRING HIM BACK TO LIFE.

God wants to give US life. Dead life? Let God resurrect your life. Dead marriage? Let God resurrect your marriage. Dead relationships? Let God resurrect your relationships.

Time and time again, in my life, God has resurrected. He sees our pain, He sees our struggles, and WANTS to give us life again. In the Bible, John 10, Jesus tells the Pharisees that he is the Good Shepherd. He came to guide us and give LIFE, to resurrect us.

This Easter, let Him bring you back to life. Let God resurrect the dead places that nothing else can reach. My friend, you will rise again!

He arose! He arose! Hallelujah, Christ arose!

Happy Resurrection Sunday!

Leah

Sanity Saturday

Today, I'm all about regaining some sanity.  

Let me give you a rundown of the "high" points of the past two weeks:

Tues Feb 23: Out of town to visit ailing grandmother and say "good-bye"
Wed Feb 24: My grandmother passed away
Saturday-Sunday Feb 27-28: Out of town with family/Funeral
Monday Feb 29: Baby girl at the doctor with ear infection
Wednesday March 2: Flat tire on the side of busy road
Thursday, March 3: Sick 5 year old at home
Thursday-Friday March 3-4: While trying to fulfill other obligations, get tire fixed...two hour school delay throwing a curve ball in the middle of all of it

Oh Sanity, Where Art Thou?

Yesterday morning, I was on the verge of an anxiety attack.  

My chest hurt.  I couldn't breathe.  It was all TOO much.

This morning, I am breathing, more relaxed (as much as possible in this crazy house) and reflecting on the blessings that God brought through the challenging moments of the past couple of weeks.  At the end of the day yesterday, my 11 year-old pointed out that despite my morning anxiety, God worked it all out and good things came from the tough things.  I wholeheartedly agreed, while quite chagrined that my middle-schooler had to bring this to my attention.

Throughout the last couple of weeks, though difficult, I spent some amazing time with loved ones, reflecting on a woman that impacted hundreds of peoples lives in her 95 years on this earth.  I visited with friends and family I hadn't see in years.  I was touched by the number of people who traveled great distances to pay their respects to my grandmother.
I am proud to be a part of my grandmother's legacy.  

Despite ear infections, colds, coughs, and congestion my babies are healthy and well, somehow still maintaining high levels of energy throughout the day (how does that happen?).  

A dear friend came to my rescue to change the flat tire.  Another friend interrupted her day to pick up my two year-old so she wouldn't be stranded on the side of the road with me (in 35 degree temps).  My son's preschool teachers took care of his needs and fed him lunch while I was unable to get to him.  Another friend loaned me her van until my tire was repaired.  A tire that was supposed to cost $185 to get replaced, was miraculously patched for a mere $25
(even the shop owner couldn't believe it).

Ya'll, then enemy tries to get to us.  He is real and is against us.  He wants to break us down and make us lose hope, while chipping away at our sanity.  Thankfully, we serve a God who knows all of these things about our enemy, knows how incredibly weak we are, and still finds a way to bring good out of evil.  

Romans 8:28 says, "And we know (with great confidence) that God (who is deeply concerned about us) causes all things to work together (as a plan) for good for those who love God, to those who are called according to His plan and purpose."  (AMP)

I am sure your days are challenging too, in their own way.  Don't forget that God is always there, fighting for you, working for you, loving you.  

Open your eyes to God's blessings through the storm.  

Courtesy of WBDJ 7 - three crosses that remained standing after the tornado that devastated our region on February 24 (the day my grandmother passed.  On that same afternoon, we saw a vibrant double rainbow seen here.

Sanity may be within our grasp!  I am praying for a Sanity Saturday for you too!

The Unattainable Virtuous Woman

I have avoided those verses my entire life. When I start reading Proverbs 31, anxiety ensues. I can't read them without thinking about all of the ways I am NOT a virtuous woman.

This weekend, my grandmother was laid to rest. I was first asked to pray at her funeral. This I can do, whether in front of 1 person or 200 people, it usually doesn't make me too nervous.  Then, plans changed. Instead, I was asked to read Proverbs 31:10-31.  The one set of verses that send me into a downward spiral fetal position and I was asked to read them for my grandmother's funeral in front of a sanctuary full of people.  Thank you, Irony.  

Before reading scripture in front of a group, I like to investigate the background surrounding the passage. Specifically, what am I reading and why is this woman my nemesis?  Usually, its God's way of opening my eyes to something new he has to teach me.  Thank you, God.

These verses were written at the end of a book on wisdom.  Hebrew sons memorizing the scriptures had to learn this passage on what to look for in a wife. In Hebrew, the verses are an acrostic of the alphabet, providing an easy way for the young men to remember.

The verses are clearly not written in first person, so this woman didn't write this about herself. What woman could? We always feel like we are failing, never doing enough. Someone wrote this about her. Someone was looking at her life from the outside and wrote what they saw. The woman displayed wisdom in her daily choices and an onlooker wrote about her.  

Like all of us, she was simply doing her best. I am sure she was weary and exhausted, feeling like she could barely keep her head above water.  This woman, whose perfection always intimidated me, isn't perfect.  I'm sure she yelled raised her voice at her kids and complained about dirty socks all over the floor.  She had to have failed once in a while at meal planning and getting all of the laundry washed, dried, folded, and put away. 

But when it came to major decisions, those that affect her family, she used wisdom.  Day by day, moment by moment, she called on wisdom.  

Wisdom isn't something we are all blessed with. It's one of those things where I wonder if I was skipped over when the good Lord was passing it out.  I surely could use some when trying to get my children to listen. 

The wisest man who ever lived, King Solomon, asked God for wisdom. In fact, because he asked for it, instead of wealth or fame, God gave him an abundance of all three!  

I wonder if the Virtuous Woman asked God for wisdom as she began her day, in order to make the best decisions for her family?  I bet she did. How could she have accomplished all of the tasks before her without first asking God for his wisdom to complete them?  

This challenges me, before I begin my day, to pray for wisdom.  I may only have a moment to breathe before I wake my first little one to get ready for her day;  however, in that moment, what a difference it could make if I asked God for the wisdom to make the best choices for my family throughout the chaos.  

I challenge you to do the same.  What a difference it could make in our world if we all started the day asking God for a little wisdom!   

Dear God,

As lift my head and rise from bed, 

grant me with wisdom to be a woman of virtue, 

deciding for my family what is best, and 

preparing my heart for the day ahead.

Perhaps being a Woman of Virtue isn't so unattainable after all.

Legacy

My grandmother passed away this week.  She was known as "MaMa" or "MawMaw," depending on which side of the family you are on.  MaMa blessed this earth with 95 years, touching endless lives and families with her servant heart.  She passed quietly from this world and now walks with Jesus, her mom (my Granny), sisters, and many other family and friends who have gone on before her.

I bet she is taking in the beauty of Jesus' garden.  She had the greenest thumb of any woman I knew. All house plants ended up in her care as so many of us brought the plants to her for revival.  I will always remember chrysanthemums, lilies, and a multitude of green foliage thriving in her home.

Her family thrived there too.  Children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren and anyone who graced her doorstep, left feeling loved.  How she did it, I will never know.  She wasn't the type to busily rush around cleaning and serving her guests.  She sat, listened, and watched.  Much like Jesus' friend Mary in Luke 10:38, Mama visited with you, listened to you, and watched the children playing at her feet.

The children were always her favorite.  Mama smiled at them, laughed at them, and even in her last few months with us, looked them in the eye and gave them a loving "Hey!".  The same box of toys has been in her closet for as long as I can remember, waiting for any child who might stop by.

Mama served her church as Sunday School secretary and Women's Missionary secretary/treasurer for 46 years. There, she was known as "Polly" or "Ms. Scott".  She loved the church and the people in it. The congregation of College Park Baptist Church looked to her as a matriarch, a grandmother to all. She was so very loved by them. She was never involved in a Sunday School class as she wanted to avoid the conversations of the "old ladies" who often did nothing but complain about their aches and pains.

Mama never complained.  Ever.  She just dealt with an ailment as best she could and kept going.  She lived through the Great Depression eating more apple butter than she could ever want.  Once the Depression was over, she refused to touched it again.  Mama often said our country could use going through another Great Depression because it taught you to appreciate everything you had.  Her life was evident of this lesson learned.

My memories of Mama are pretty much grouped into one single memory.  She was always PRESENT.  Whether she was at our home or we were at hers.  Whether she was at church (sitting at the end of the pew near the center aisle) or at one of our extracurricular events, she was there.  Mama was a constant fixture of my childhood.

Mama's Chocolate Meringue Pie, was the best thing you have ever placed on your palette. Heavens.

It is my prayer that this the legacy I can leave for my family and friends.  A legacy of always being PRESENT, watching, listening, and investing in my loved ones.

Mama, you were the best grandmother I could have ever asked for.  My heart will be forever changed by the impact you have had on my life.  Without a doubt, you heard the words of our Savior from Matthew 25:23, "Well done good and faithful servant."   

You will be forever missed. 

I love you,

Leah

PS  Would you find our pup, TJ?  I know you were never a fan of the family pets, but if you could give TJ a pat on the head and tell him his family misses him every day, that would be great.  

http://www.memorialsolutions.com/sitemaker/sites/Townes1/memsol.cgi?user_id=1752238#

Relentless

The Boy just won't stop.  Each week there is something new. A different topic, a better toy, an urgent "need"; my 4-year-old won't let the topic go.  Like a broken record when you can't unplug the player, watching the record move around and around, skipping over the same scratch (no comments from those who have no clue what I am referring to).  Although I admire his passion for all things with wheels, the persistent begging whittles away at my sanity each day.

A few of months ago, it was the "Christmas Train".  I kindly allowed him to unpack it from the Styrofoam and put it together.  It took up the floor of our living room, littered with Styrofoam crumbs.  He played with it for a several hours. Then, after bedtime I cleaned up the train, vacuumed the snowy packing remnants, and carried it to its semi-permanent location for 11 months of the year.  The next morning, the begging to unpack the train began and continued for the next several days.

The boy HAS trains, wooden and electric.  But this train "has 4 cars and the other train just has 3".  On and on, over and over, I have heard 1001 reasons why he needed the train.  Through tears and tantrums, he was relentless.

My children teach me so much about my faith walk.  Countless times, they have made "the faith of a child" so vivid for me.  This lesson is a little different. 

Am I passionate about my relationship with God?  Do I have relentless faith?  Do I hold on to my hope when times are tough and my tears are abundant? Am I persistent in my prayers, especially when my spirit is weak and I have no more words to pour out of my soul?

In 1 Thessalonians 5:17, Paul urges us to "Pray without ceasing".  Pray without STOPPING.  In my day-to-day life, this is pretty near impossible.  From 5:45 am to 9 pm (okay 24 hours a day), I am expected to be ON; tending to the needs of my family and home.  Getting on my knees before God in prayer is not something I can do with regularity throughout the day.

How do I integrate "pray without ceasing" into my every day crazy?  I love the way this verse is explained here: To pray without ceasing is having "an attitude of God-consciousness and God-surrender that we carry with us all the time. Every waking moment is to be lived in an awareness that God is with us and that He is actively involved and engaged in our thoughts and actions."  

As with most everything in the Bible, God isn't as interested in what we are doing physically, but spiritually.  His main goal is changing our hearts, our attitudes, and our relationship with Him above anything else.

In my life, I have noticed:

1 - Prayer does not ensure that I will get what I want.

2 - Prayer does open my heart to a relationship with the One I am praying to.

In my ceaseless praying, if I pray with the attitude of "I need a), b), and c) to happen", I am disappointed EVERY.SINGLE.TIME. Its just like my son begging relentlessly for the train.  If he gets what he is asking for, he will soon be bored with it and move on to begging for something else.

God is pretty wise to our ways.  When we constantly petition for the things we want, without joy, thanksgiving, or an attitude change, it prohibits building our relationship with him and we will never be satisfied.  It feels like hitting a roadblock, with no way around.

Believe me, I know.

I fall into this trap so frequently.  Well, God didn't deliver, so what's the use?  My prayers aren't paying off.

Then I am reminded, ever so gently, that my focus on the prayer and not on the one who hears my prayer.  When I shift my focus to Him and begin to pray, ceaselessly, with a spirit of joy, it opens my heart to a deeper relationship with Him. I am blessed EVERY.SINGLE.TIME.

Here praying without ceasing is compared to breathing.  We don't have to think to breathe.  Our body just does it for survival.  When our prayers are in a "gimme gimme gimme" mode and not of joy or thanksgiving, it almost feels like holding your breath.  Waiting for a, b, and c to happen.  For me, it feels more like I am gasping for breath.

Thankfully, Jesus taught us how to pray, drawing our breath in and out.  In Matthew 6:9-13, Jesus gave us the way we should pray.  It is called "The Lord's Prayer" for a reason.  I learned the fancy, King James Version, growing up, but I really like this translation in The Message:

Our Father in heaven,
Reveal who you are.
Set the world right;
Do what’s best—
as above, so below.
Keep us alive with three square meals.

Keep us forgiven with you and forgiving others.

Keep us safe from ourselves and the Devil.

You’re in charge!

You can do anything you want!

You’re ablaze in beauty!

This is what I have to remind myself: 

Acknowledge God for who he is.  Remember what he has done. Trust in what he will do.

He is God. 
He has already done great things.
He will continue to do great things.

It's not about me.  It's not about what I want. It's all about Him and what he will do.  

Every moment, every day, without ceasing.

Be RELENTLESS today.

Mom Flip-out Moment

I always knew I had it in me.  I'm not so naive to think that I would never be that mom.  After having kids, you see the worst form of yourself and typically know what you are capable of.  As it is my goal to make you feel less alone in your parenting journey, I feel compelled to share the following event with you.  You're welcome.

Remember in "A Christmas Story" (a classic movie I never fully appreciated until I was grown) when Ralphie blamed his use of the f-bomb on his friend Flick?  Ralphie's mom proceeded to call Flick's mom and tell her of his misdeed.  All you can hear on the other end of the phone was Flick's mom screaming, "WHAT?  WHAAT?  WHAAAT?"  Her head was clearly spinning around as she proceeded to do who-knows-what to Flick.  This was me.  Two days after Christmas.  Two days after the most glorious day of peace and joy of the year.

It would be my son that would be the star of this story.  Christian is the only boy out of 3 girls.  He thinks of things the girls would have never thought of.  Therefore, it would be my son that would make my head spin around in all of my fine parenting glory.  It would be my son that would announce to me, first thing in the morning as I sat down to breakfast, "I cut Marleigh's hair this morning!"  

I glanced down at my 2-year-old, who had yet to have her first haircut (let that sink in) and observed that besides her bed head, she had in fact had a hair cut by her almost 5-year-old brother.  

Let the  "WHAT?  WHAAT?  WHAAAT?" head-spinning commence.  I flew upstairs to his room as I knew this had occurred prior to the rest of the family getting out of bed.  In his trash can, I found a nice little auburn, curly-haired pile of trimmings.

I was hysterical.  There were tears from Christian and Marleigh.  There was sobbing and rocking by me, in complete shock and trauma,  My older girls' eyes were about to pop out of their heads, as I am pretty sure the level of emotions coming from their dear mama was a never seen before experience.  

DISCLAIMER: Christian has the superhuman ability to scale walls, cabinets, and counters.  He's like a mini Spiderman with his upper body strength.  While I try to keep items like scissors out of his reach, I know that he can find anything and everything despite the attempt to hide them.  

Upon realizing that I was making the ordeal exponentially worse, I knew I needed to separate myself from my son until I could talk to him calmly without wanting to do who-knows-what to him (don't judge, if you haven't been there as a parent, you WILL just WAIT).  As my husband lovingly dealt with my son, I left...FOR TWO HOURS.

What did I do?  The one thing everyone does early on a Sunday morning to calm themselves down from a hysterical frenzy; I sat in a parking lot, crying and waiting for the car wash to open so I could clean and vacuum my mini-van.  (There was driving and a trip to the grocery store in there too.  My van wasn't SO dirty that it took two hours to clean.  It only took 1 1/2 hours.)    

My car is never so clean as when I clean in an angry rage.  In the end, I had a sparkling car (that would only last for the rest of the day), my hysterics were mostly gone, and I sort of liked the boy again.  

I returned home, went straight to Christian, hugged him and asked, "Why did you cut Marleigh's hair?


"It was in her face" MR. LOGICAL


"What does Mommy do when her hair is in her face?"


"You put a bow in it." OF COURSE.


So, what can we all learn from this massive parenting fail?


Nothing.  Absolutely nothing.  You will have a flip-out moment, I promise, either now when your babies are young, I shudder to think what the teenage years will bring.  You hug, you apologize, and try to appreciate the new mullet that your son has given your baby girl as her first haircut.  

Good thing she is so stinkin' cute.  
  

An Illuminated Path

As I stepped on the path, it seemed way too familiar.  Looking down, I can see remnants of my footprints from before.  Some prints are deep, with well-etched crevices.  Others are merely outlines of each faltering step taken.  In some places, I can see my hand prints; where I had tripped, fallen and caught myself, using my hands to steady and rise again.

As I lifted my eyes to focus on my familiar surroundings ahead, I noticed many places that looked identical to what I had experienced before.  Some places, however, were overgrown, hiding what once was there.  I took a deep breath allowing the memories of this path begin to overtake me, again feeling the need to gasp for breath.

As my gaze turned upward, I noticed something was drastically different this time. LIGHT. Darkness surrounded me before, causing me to lose my footing and fall to the ground.  At that time, I couldn't see the path ahead, but fumbled through each step, grasping for anything that could guide me.

Now, there is light and I begin to walk.  The places on the path that caused me to fall before, were simply areas where I needed to pick my foot up a little more and step over the obstacles in my way. As I walked, the light broke through the overgrown places causing me to remember that though I was physically here before, I am not the same woman who walked this path years ago.  The light shined in places that illuminated the changes in me.  I am somehow stronger, more resilient, grace-filled and hopeful.  The light, God's work in my life, completely changed how this well-worn path appeared. His light gave me a completely different view of where I was and where I am now; fully equipping me to walk this path again. I walk more upright this time, not grasping in the darkness.  I am holding on to Him as my guide.  It's not easy, this journey, He never promised that I wouldn't go down this path again.  He never said the hurt and pain wouldn't resurface.  But this time, His light will guide me through the once dark hallows of this life and I will again, come through it, a bit brighter.