My cousin Jamie helped me download all of my digital pictures onto our computer last night. I've had the camera dock in a box in my closet for months now. Capturing moments is definitely not a strong point for me. In fact, the thought of scrap booking or organizing pictures puts my stomach in a knot.
I for one, feel so completely behind in this area. I have so many photos. Some are filed away, some are stored in boxes and some now live on my computer. I have even managed to create a few photo albums . . . but only three have been completed in the 14 years we've been married.
Scrap booking is something I really enjoy, but I never sit down to work on it without a load of anxiety piling up. Why do I feel like such a failure in this area? Is it because I have successfully completed baby albums for my two boys, but haven't even started Makayla's? She's five now!
The best way I have been able to reconcile this unkept room of my life, is to first set aside any unrealistic expectations. My comparison of other people's prize albums immediately puts me into a pit of despair. I know that I will never get there, because that is not how God has prioritized my life. I'm in a different place, and in a different season. It might even have something to do with the fact that I don't have that kind of personality . . . and that's okay.
This thought just occurred to me. What if I were to set other people's examples aside, and ask God what He would have me do with my pictures? What is the reason for taking them, and how can they bring glory to Him? Hmmmm . . . interesting concept. But I have tried creating a spiritual scrapbook before, and I only got about 1/3 of it done (with no pictures included). Now that doesn't glorify God. That is just another unfinished project.
But wait. Did God ask me to create a spiritual scrapbook? Have I just slapped the word "spiritual" onto another unfinished project? Don't get me wrong, I love the idea of leaving a spiritual legacy for generations to come. It would be ideal to create dozens of spiritual scrapbooks, all documenting the footprints of God in our family. But maybe I am only a piece to the puzzle of this dream. Maybe I will simply be the collector of memories.
The ache and panic of capturing moments runs a little bit deeper for me than unfinished albums. I think at the core of why I struggle with this has to do with letting go. I am wanting to capture moments, and keep them frozen. I don't want my kids to grow up so fast. Life just seems to be slipping away too quickly. We only have so much time here on this earth, and my anxious pursuit of scrap booking is one of the ways I try and control the inevitable passing of time.
Collecting and organizing our family's photos. That is all that I am able to do right now. And because I feel a sense of peace in letting all the rest go - I know that it's enough.
Saturday, July 7
Friday, July 6
Lazy Days
Lazy summer days are always something I have to ease into. My personality is one that desires order and productivity. It may sound strange, but I have a hard time just relaxing. I've learned through the years to use my time wisely, and summer vacation always throws a monkey wrench into my meticulous planning.
So when my schedule gets thrown out the window, and when there are suddenly all of these people in my space - I guess you could say that I am, well, grumpy. I could label it all kinds of things like: I am an introvert, I need my space, I am working toward goals . . . and the list could go on and on.
But what it really comes down to is this. Selfishness. My schedule, my plans, my space - it is nauseating really. What is it that God is trying to teach me about relaxing and letting go? God's plans for my day rarely fit my day timer. God is so much more fun than that. There are always divine appointments here and there butting in.
I think I have forgotten the art of surrendering my day to the Lord. Instead of praying through my list of to-dos, I should be asking God where He is working, so that I can join Him. It is so easy for me to forget the simple truths of walking with Christ. He is never in a hurry. He always provides ample time to complete His priorities. His burden is easy, His load is light. It's summer vacation for crying out loud. God is giving me permission to relax and to go with the flow.
So how will I shift gears and cooperate with the sun dial? I think I'll start on my knees, and then maybe nestle in with a good book. I might even indulge in some fiction, and give my character sharpening pursuit a rest for a while.
Sometimes all God is asking me to do, is just be.
So when my schedule gets thrown out the window, and when there are suddenly all of these people in my space - I guess you could say that I am, well, grumpy. I could label it all kinds of things like: I am an introvert, I need my space, I am working toward goals . . . and the list could go on and on.
But what it really comes down to is this. Selfishness. My schedule, my plans, my space - it is nauseating really. What is it that God is trying to teach me about relaxing and letting go? God's plans for my day rarely fit my day timer. God is so much more fun than that. There are always divine appointments here and there butting in.
I think I have forgotten the art of surrendering my day to the Lord. Instead of praying through my list of to-dos, I should be asking God where He is working, so that I can join Him. It is so easy for me to forget the simple truths of walking with Christ. He is never in a hurry. He always provides ample time to complete His priorities. His burden is easy, His load is light. It's summer vacation for crying out loud. God is giving me permission to relax and to go with the flow.
So how will I shift gears and cooperate with the sun dial? I think I'll start on my knees, and then maybe nestle in with a good book. I might even indulge in some fiction, and give my character sharpening pursuit a rest for a while.
Sometimes all God is asking me to do, is just be.
Thursday, July 5
Five on the 5th
It is my sweet girl's birthday today. Five years old on the 5th. It is so hard to believe.
I remember July 4, 2002 vividly. The crash and the glow of fireworks seemed to induce labor. Mark and I perched ourselves on Stephanie's sidewalk to watch a few, and then we headed for the hospital. This being my third baby, I was eager to get to the hospital. I had epidural on my mind. The all too familiar labor pains indicated that this would be nothing like the false alarm we had a few weeks ago.
We arrived at the hospital at approximately 10pm. The tightness in my abdomen increased and it started getting more consistent. Paperwork? Check-in? At a time like this? I remember staying calm, but wanting so much to get past all of the logistics to the room where my baby girl would be born.
Once the epidural was administered, I rested there comfortably for the next few hours. My body labored, and I took a nap. The room was dark and quiet. The glow of the television caught my eye, but I didn't really pay attention to what was on.
I was preoccupied with thoughts of my baby.
What will she look like? Will she really be a "she"? Will she look like Matthew did, or more like Michael? What about a name - we haven't picked out a name yet. (We were teetering between Amanda and Makayla.)
At approximately 4am, the doctor came in and indicated that it was time to push. Push? Already? Okay, I had done this two other times before, I knew it would be a piece of cake. (Drugs are great.) But as my legs were being positioned and the nursing staff was preparing, I wasn't sure if I was ready.
There was something God had me pay attention to in that moment. I felt a mix of anticipation, hope, uncertainty and pain. I knew that the moment my baby would be born - that my life would never be the same again. I wanted to treasure being pregnant for just a moment longer.
The pushing came as my body bared down. And like a coach, my doctor praised me with every attempt. One two (maybe three) pushes, and out she came . . . yes, she really was a she!!
I listened for her cries, and they came. A wrinkly little blob . . . all mine. My heart was so full, by body so tired.
After Mark and the family left, my new baby girl and I spent the next few hours alone. I nursed her, and she fell asleep at my breast. I watched every move she made. I smelled her - over and over again. Little fingers and toes . . . baby's breath. She was all mine, to love and cherish. So many dreams filled my head. Dance classes, shopping, barbies. A close relationship with a daughter.
It didn't take long for me to realize that this tiny miracle was named Makayla. She looked like a Makayla, even at a few hours old. Amazing.
I felt the presence of God all over that room on that sacred morning. I glanced out the window, and was startled by what I saw. My labor room was positioned in such a way that I had a view of the American flag and the cross side by side. The view was breathtaking. Freedom in Christ indeed. His rescue was the reason my heart could be so full. It was God's smile on the best day of my life.
I've had three best days . . . no make that four. Once included a vow and a ring.
I remember July 4, 2002 vividly. The crash and the glow of fireworks seemed to induce labor. Mark and I perched ourselves on Stephanie's sidewalk to watch a few, and then we headed for the hospital. This being my third baby, I was eager to get to the hospital. I had epidural on my mind. The all too familiar labor pains indicated that this would be nothing like the false alarm we had a few weeks ago.
We arrived at the hospital at approximately 10pm. The tightness in my abdomen increased and it started getting more consistent. Paperwork? Check-in? At a time like this? I remember staying calm, but wanting so much to get past all of the logistics to the room where my baby girl would be born.
Once the epidural was administered, I rested there comfortably for the next few hours. My body labored, and I took a nap. The room was dark and quiet. The glow of the television caught my eye, but I didn't really pay attention to what was on.
I was preoccupied with thoughts of my baby.
What will she look like? Will she really be a "she"? Will she look like Matthew did, or more like Michael? What about a name - we haven't picked out a name yet. (We were teetering between Amanda and Makayla.)
At approximately 4am, the doctor came in and indicated that it was time to push. Push? Already? Okay, I had done this two other times before, I knew it would be a piece of cake. (Drugs are great.) But as my legs were being positioned and the nursing staff was preparing, I wasn't sure if I was ready.
There was something God had me pay attention to in that moment. I felt a mix of anticipation, hope, uncertainty and pain. I knew that the moment my baby would be born - that my life would never be the same again. I wanted to treasure being pregnant for just a moment longer.
The pushing came as my body bared down. And like a coach, my doctor praised me with every attempt. One two (maybe three) pushes, and out she came . . . yes, she really was a she!!
I listened for her cries, and they came. A wrinkly little blob . . . all mine. My heart was so full, by body so tired.
It is difficult to describe the moment your baby is born. I have to say that it tops anything else I have ever experienced. And by God's grace and mercy, I have had the privilege of doing three times.
After Mark and the family left, my new baby girl and I spent the next few hours alone. I nursed her, and she fell asleep at my breast. I watched every move she made. I smelled her - over and over again. Little fingers and toes . . . baby's breath. She was all mine, to love and cherish. So many dreams filled my head. Dance classes, shopping, barbies. A close relationship with a daughter.
It didn't take long for me to realize that this tiny miracle was named Makayla. She looked like a Makayla, even at a few hours old. Amazing.
I felt the presence of God all over that room on that sacred morning. I glanced out the window, and was startled by what I saw. My labor room was positioned in such a way that I had a view of the American flag and the cross side by side. The view was breathtaking. Freedom in Christ indeed. His rescue was the reason my heart could be so full. It was God's smile on the best day of my life.
I've had three best days . . . no make that four. Once included a vow and a ring.
Happy Birthday my sweet girl. You are a dream come true.
Wednesday, July 4
Independence Day
On this 4th of July, one of my all time favorite verses is brought to mind. It is Galatians 5:1 and it says:
It is for freedom that Christ set us free, therefore stand firm, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery.
I think about all of the ways that God has ministered to me through this verse. Being a recovering coward, there are so many times I have clung to this verse to pull me out of my terror pit.
So what do I long to be free from these days? Oh, that's an easy one for me. I still long to be free from fear. (I'm a little slow.) And where do my biggest fears lie right now? In relationships with other people. I have an innate desire to be loved, accepted and a part of a "team". We all do.
God has been teaching me a little something about this whole concept lately. I believe it is His design that we depend on one other as we strive to emulate Him. He talks explicitly about Christ's church being the The Body, and how each part is in desperate need of all the others. Instead of feeling needy, off balance, weird or unlovely, God is showing me that it is okay to love, and to desire love back. In fact, loving God and other people is His greatest commandment.
Putting my heart out there, and loving other people is scary. What if I am misunderstood? What if I am rejected? What if all of the things I fear about myself are true? Well, here's a revelation. SO WHAT? God's Word promises me that He will never leave me nor forsake me. There is nothing in all of creation that can separate me from His love, right? Sounds to me like a pretty good safety net.
God made me the way He made me for a reason, and the same is true for you. Freedom, I am finding, comes through the surrender of self and the wreck less abandonment to the commitment of others. On this Independence Day, I am choosing interdependence. Here's why:
Independence: freedom from dependence on or control by another person, organization or state
Interdependence: unable to exist or survive without each other, relying on mutual assistance, support, cooperation, or interaction among team members
Sacrificing for the sake of the team. Now that sounds to me like a disciple of Jesus Christ.
It is for freedom that Christ set us free, therefore stand firm, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery.
I think about all of the ways that God has ministered to me through this verse. Being a recovering coward, there are so many times I have clung to this verse to pull me out of my terror pit.
So what do I long to be free from these days? Oh, that's an easy one for me. I still long to be free from fear. (I'm a little slow.) And where do my biggest fears lie right now? In relationships with other people. I have an innate desire to be loved, accepted and a part of a "team". We all do.
God has been teaching me a little something about this whole concept lately. I believe it is His design that we depend on one other as we strive to emulate Him. He talks explicitly about Christ's church being the The Body, and how each part is in desperate need of all the others. Instead of feeling needy, off balance, weird or unlovely, God is showing me that it is okay to love, and to desire love back. In fact, loving God and other people is His greatest commandment.
Putting my heart out there, and loving other people is scary. What if I am misunderstood? What if I am rejected? What if all of the things I fear about myself are true? Well, here's a revelation. SO WHAT? God's Word promises me that He will never leave me nor forsake me. There is nothing in all of creation that can separate me from His love, right? Sounds to me like a pretty good safety net.
God made me the way He made me for a reason, and the same is true for you. Freedom, I am finding, comes through the surrender of self and the wreck less abandonment to the commitment of others. On this Independence Day, I am choosing interdependence. Here's why:
Independence: freedom from dependence on or control by another person, organization or state
Interdependence: unable to exist or survive without each other, relying on mutual assistance, support, cooperation, or interaction among team members
Sacrificing for the sake of the team. Now that sounds to me like a disciple of Jesus Christ.
Tuesday, July 3
Evan Almighty
We took the kids to the show yesterday. I was delightfully surprised by what we saw . . . God was glorified through Hollywood.
I have to admit, I was a little bit leery about this movie. The previews (in my opinion) ridiculed God and the story of Noah. But after sitting through the whole movie, I was able to pardon the parallel. Let me tell you why.
Without ruining the movie for you, I will just say this . . .
- God's love for mankind was communicated over and over again
- the main character (Evan) prayed and God showed up in mind blowing ways
- God chose to use a man who wanted to "change the world"
- Evan was ridiculed, misunderstood and abandoned by everyone because of his obedience
- God's plans messed up all of Evan's plans
- God's priorities brought people together, instead of separating them
- God came through in the end - just like He always does
Of course there were a lot of theological mix ups, but if you can get past all of that - I believe the heart of the movie was dead on. I would encourage you to see it. Not to build it up too much, but I think aside from Overboard it has become my new favorite movie. I liked it that much.
Question for you . . . Has God ever asked you to build an ark? What did you ark look like? What was your response, did you tell God "yes" or "no" or "later"? Were you shuned, ridiculed misunderstood and abandoned because of your obedience? If so, how?
If you have time, respond in the comments. It would be fun to swap stories. I will comment on my own blog so that I can share mine with you.
If God has asked you to build an ark, take heart my dear sister. God is faithful - the rain will come.
I have to admit, I was a little bit leery about this movie. The previews (in my opinion) ridiculed God and the story of Noah. But after sitting through the whole movie, I was able to pardon the parallel. Let me tell you why.
Without ruining the movie for you, I will just say this . . .
- God's love for mankind was communicated over and over again
- the main character (Evan) prayed and God showed up in mind blowing ways
- God chose to use a man who wanted to "change the world"
- Evan was ridiculed, misunderstood and abandoned by everyone because of his obedience
- God's plans messed up all of Evan's plans
- God's priorities brought people together, instead of separating them
- God came through in the end - just like He always does
Of course there were a lot of theological mix ups, but if you can get past all of that - I believe the heart of the movie was dead on. I would encourage you to see it. Not to build it up too much, but I think aside from Overboard it has become my new favorite movie. I liked it that much.
Question for you . . . Has God ever asked you to build an ark? What did you ark look like? What was your response, did you tell God "yes" or "no" or "later"? Were you shuned, ridiculed misunderstood and abandoned because of your obedience? If so, how?
If you have time, respond in the comments. It would be fun to swap stories. I will comment on my own blog so that I can share mine with you.
If God has asked you to build an ark, take heart my dear sister. God is faithful - the rain will come.
Monday, July 2
Job Hunting
Mark and I have decided to begin praying about how we can supplement our income, and hence the job search begins. On Friday evening, Mark and I agreed that I should begin praying and putting my feelers out. To be honest, I am really not in any hurry to begin the search. There are SO many other things I would rather do with my time.
This morning I was going through some paperwork, and happened to notice something interesting in the "Needs and Notes". It was a job opening for a part-time ministry assistant. Ever have one of those happen? God starts nudging you in a certain direction, and then opportunities begin falling at your feet? Crazy I know. An hour or so later, I sat in their office filling out an application and dropping off my resume.
I don't know if this is part of God's plan for me, but I did sense that I needed to take a step in this direction. Since I have faithfully taken that first scary step, I know that the rest is up to Him. I can trust God with our future. I was hoping to never have to mix ministry with income, but with three children that we need to save for, and hundreds of other little things that come up - not working just doesn't seem like an option. I trust that if this job doesn't pan out, that it only means God has something better in mind.
If you are reading this, please pray for me. I want to honor Mark and our decision to start looking, but I don't want to jump into something too soon. It seems like it would be a good fit for me: ministry, working with people, in an office environment . . . what could be better?
Ministry is my heart, and my life. I pray that God will somehow continue to take care of us financially (He is always so faithful), and allow me to serve wholeheartedly in the ministry. Seem impossible? That's why I smile inside. "The impossible" is God's specialty.
This morning I was going through some paperwork, and happened to notice something interesting in the "Needs and Notes". It was a job opening for a part-time ministry assistant. Ever have one of those happen? God starts nudging you in a certain direction, and then opportunities begin falling at your feet? Crazy I know. An hour or so later, I sat in their office filling out an application and dropping off my resume.
I don't know if this is part of God's plan for me, but I did sense that I needed to take a step in this direction. Since I have faithfully taken that first scary step, I know that the rest is up to Him. I can trust God with our future. I was hoping to never have to mix ministry with income, but with three children that we need to save for, and hundreds of other little things that come up - not working just doesn't seem like an option. I trust that if this job doesn't pan out, that it only means God has something better in mind.
If you are reading this, please pray for me. I want to honor Mark and our decision to start looking, but I don't want to jump into something too soon. It seems like it would be a good fit for me: ministry, working with people, in an office environment . . . what could be better?
Ministry is my heart, and my life. I pray that God will somehow continue to take care of us financially (He is always so faithful), and allow me to serve wholeheartedly in the ministry. Seem impossible? That's why I smile inside. "The impossible" is God's specialty.
Sunday, July 1
All For Him
I have been working really hard, trying to master the art of guitar. Six months in and I have amazingly been able to get my open chords down. The next hurdle will be barre chords. This is more like a mountain than a hurdle - the marathon of marathons for my index finger. But with every practice session, my mind gets a little big sharper and my fingers a bit stronger.
Aside from being the next Marie Osmond (you think I'm kidding), my goal in learning the guitar is to worship the Lord deeply from my heart. There are a lot of voices I am choosing to ignore such as, "You can't sing. You are too old to start from the beginning. Everybody will just be tolerating you." Okay, maybe all of these are true, but when a girl has a dream in her heart, logic takes a back seat.
In other words, I may not have a lick of talent, but I'm not going to let that stop me. God has put a song in my heart . . . as a matter of fact, hundreds of them . . . all to be belted out in His name - for His glory. My practice time truly is a time of worship, where the deep parts of my heart (parts that I cannot find words for) are being expressed through the music. There is nothing like it in all the world.
I realized something yesterday though, about this dream of mine. I don't know that it will necessarily be shared with the world. Let me tell you why. My cousin Jodie came over yesterday, with her mom and our Nana. They asked me to play them something, and so I reluctantly pulled out Daisy Mae. (I like to name my guitars.)
What I discovered, is that the jam session I had earlier sounded nothing like it did when I had a captive audience. With others in the room I played timidly, sang quietly and felt really silly. But when I was alone with the Lord hours earlier, I sang at the top of my voice - more importantly I sang and played with my whole heart.
There is something so wonderfully intimate about the things that I do to honor God, when it's all for Him. Many times they are secret acts of obedience that nobody ever even knows about except for me and the Lord. Times like these build my intimacy with Him - making me realize that nobody else can fill the giant-size hole I carry around on in the inside. "How Deep the Father's Love for Us" . . . His LOVE is always enough to fill any canyon sized hole.
Here are the lyrics to a worship song I am currently tackling. If there is anybody out there reading this, I do hope it will minister to you in a profound way. If it's just You and I here Lord, let's take it from the top. Marie Osmond . . . watch out.
Aside from being the next Marie Osmond (you think I'm kidding), my goal in learning the guitar is to worship the Lord deeply from my heart. There are a lot of voices I am choosing to ignore such as, "You can't sing. You are too old to start from the beginning. Everybody will just be tolerating you." Okay, maybe all of these are true, but when a girl has a dream in her heart, logic takes a back seat.
In other words, I may not have a lick of talent, but I'm not going to let that stop me. God has put a song in my heart . . . as a matter of fact, hundreds of them . . . all to be belted out in His name - for His glory. My practice time truly is a time of worship, where the deep parts of my heart (parts that I cannot find words for) are being expressed through the music. There is nothing like it in all the world.
I realized something yesterday though, about this dream of mine. I don't know that it will necessarily be shared with the world. Let me tell you why. My cousin Jodie came over yesterday, with her mom and our Nana. They asked me to play them something, and so I reluctantly pulled out Daisy Mae. (I like to name my guitars.)
What I discovered, is that the jam session I had earlier sounded nothing like it did when I had a captive audience. With others in the room I played timidly, sang quietly and felt really silly. But when I was alone with the Lord hours earlier, I sang at the top of my voice - more importantly I sang and played with my whole heart.
There is something so wonderfully intimate about the things that I do to honor God, when it's all for Him. Many times they are secret acts of obedience that nobody ever even knows about except for me and the Lord. Times like these build my intimacy with Him - making me realize that nobody else can fill the giant-size hole I carry around on in the inside. "How Deep the Father's Love for Us" . . . His LOVE is always enough to fill any canyon sized hole.
Here are the lyrics to a worship song I am currently tackling. If there is anybody out there reading this, I do hope it will minister to you in a profound way. If it's just You and I here Lord, let's take it from the top. Marie Osmond . . . watch out.
How Deep the Father's Love for Us
How deep the Father's love for us,
how vast beyond all measure
that He should give His only Son
to make a wretch His treasure.
How great the pain of searing loss,
The Father turned His face away
as wounds which marred the chosen One
bring many sons to glory.
Behold the Man upon a cross,
my sin upon His shoulders.
Ashamed I hear my mocking voice
call out among the scoffers.
It was my sin that held Him there
until it was accomplished;
His dying breath has brought me life.
I know that it is finished.
I will not boast in anything:
no gifts, no power, not wisdom.
But I will boast in Jesus Christ:
His death and resurrection.
Why should I gain from His reward?
I cannot give an answer.
But this I know with all my heart:
His wounds have paid my ransom.
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