Christian Carnival CCLXXXII

Well, it's that time again kids . . . time for this week's round-up of some of the best posts in the Christian blogosphere. So, let's jump right in, and I hope you enjoy this week's edition of the Christian Carnival!

Jason over at Wretched Christian Blog challenges us to look at some of those Christian cliches we've heard so many times and evaluate the truths in them - or lack thereof - in his post Annoying Christian Cliches and How are They Wrong.

There are times when all of us need to be reminded of who we are in Christ, and Jaime does just that in her post Secure Your Identity at For His Glory.

FMF presents The Price of Faith, Being Christian posted at Free Money Finance.

NC Sue asks the all important question: How is it possible to forgive? at her blog, IN HIM WE LIVE AND MOVE AND HAVE OUR BEING.

Bible SEO shares an in-depth study on the Temptations of Jesus in the Wilderness.

Mikkal Travvis tries to separate truth from fiction in the post Huffington Post: Christians Are Domestic Terrorists! posted at Why God?.

ChristianPF over at Money in the Bible | Christian Personal Finance Blog gives us some insight into Medi-Share: A Christian health insurance alternative?

Annette at Fish and Cans asks So how does one teach a child to see God?, a question I'm sure we all struggle with as parents from time to time.

Louise shares how she refocuses her heart toward thankfulness rather than indulging in self pity in her post Choosing Thankfulness posted at Child of Grace.

Diane R. gives us part two of her review of Soong-Chan Rah's new book about how the American church needs to get out of its White Cultural Captivity in her post The New Evangelicalism Review-2 over at Crossroads: Where Faith and Inquiry Meet.

In his post John Calvin: Lift your hands "for the glory and worship of God" posted at who am i? Barry Wallace shares some of John Calvin's comments on expression in worship.

Michelle at Thoughts and Confessions of a Girl Who Loves Jesus... shares an exciting testimony of God's perfect timing in her post Psalm 148:13.

Jeremy Pierce at Parableman comments that, "President Obama has been criticized for saying that the U.S. isn't a Christian nation while later saying that it would be one of the largest Muslim countries if you just counted its Muslim citizens. There's an easy way to explain why this is consistent, but there might be problems with the motivation for saying these two things." He delves a little deeper in his post Obama on Muslim and Christian Nations.

Over at C. Orthodoxy, Ken Brown shares a wealth of knowledge as he gives us the responses of more than 65 blogs to his question about the 5 books or scholars that have most influenced how they read the bible. You can read their top picks in his post Biblioblog Top 10 Most Influential Authors and Books.

I had to laugh when I read Rey's post Theological Load Bearing Words over at The Bible Archive because he's completely right about the ambivalent meaning we and others assign to all these words.

And, I'll finish off the carnival with my most recent post Remodeling and Repairs here at Fathom Deep: Sounding the Depths of God. I share a little lesson learned through our home repair drama.

Well, that wraps things up for this edition of the carnival. I hope you've gleaned something that will encourage, inform and/or exhort you this week. Thank you for allowing me the opportunity to be your host. I look forward to reading all of your posts next week - you can submit them here.

Well, I'm gonna go check the thermometer and see if it's going to top 100° again today. As always, Blessings!

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Remodeling and Repairs

Oh, man, my life has been a crazy conundrum of colors and cacophony lately. We've had people in and out trying to do repairs on our house. This is all as a result of hurricane Ike last September. And, yes, the repairs are just now being done because we've been doing the insurance tango for the past 9 months to get a fair settlement.

Needless to say, it's been quite the bustle of activity around here. Since there were repairs needed in almost every room in our home, I was sequestered in my bedroom with my 3 year-old daughter and 4 year-old beagle for 2 weeks. Let's just say that I feel no need to experience that level of closeness again for a very long time - like, never!

We still haven't completed the repairs. There are loads of touch-ups and redo's that still have to take place. In fact, every time they touch up one spot, they seem to knock two more scratches and scuffs onto the walls making this process seem interminable. However, something struck me the other day as I walked through my repainted rooms for the 50th time, taking note of all the nicks and scratches that will need a paintbrush applied.

You see, I know this house like the back of my hand, and I'm a perfectionist by birth. It's my home, and I want it to be as amazing as it can possibly be. Therefore, I see every mistake, scuff, scratch, mark and stain. However, the hirelings who have been working for the past two weeks have a nominal interest at best. As long as they get paid, they don't care if my home is the best version of itself.

I'm sure you can see the parallel coming here. The same is true of God's view of us, His children. Papa sees our potential, and His desire is to see His relationship with us develop us into all that He created us to be. Unfortunately, we tend to walk around haphazardly scuffing, marking, scratching and staining our lives.

Here's the great news though - our Papa is the ultimate refurbisher. He doesn't need a paintbrush or caulk gun to make things right again. Instead, He makes us brand new, washes us completely clean leaving no trace of the damage we do.

I have to admit that after going through this process with my home, that is an even more amazing truth to me. I see how my care and concern for who and what I am is so much less than His. Yet, I insist on doing things my own way so much of the time, which almost always results in less than stellar results.

I think next time I try to remodel my life, I'll just hand my paintbrush and nail gun to Papa and let Him take care of things. That way, they'll be just . . . perfect.

Blessings!

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Cricket, Cricket

Have you been hearing crickets lately? You know, in my absence have there been crickets chirping around here? I feel like a lot of the craziness that has been my life lately is probably not good fodder for a blog - thus, my silence.

You know the proverbial rock and a hard place? Yeah, well, I feel pretty much sandwiched between those two fellas lately. There's really no easy answer to the problem, so I keep doing what I'm doing and praying that Papa will shed a little of His light on the subject.

In other news, I am happy to report that we may have finally settled our insurance claim from Ike. I haven't breathed that huge sigh of relief just yet. I'm waiting to see the check before I launch into my happy dance.

I thought it a bit comical that we have entered the new hurricane season before settling our claim from last season. I am really hoping that it will not be long before the hole in the ceiling is gone and our house restored to its former glory. Well, glory may be a bit over the top, but at least to its middle-class respectable state.

This one thing I know: I am blessed. My Father reminds me each day as I kiss my husband when he leaves for work and I hold my daughter tight as she says she loves me. I am a woman that has no end of blessings in her life. No way am I going to let a little insanity ruin that! Rock, Hard Place, meet my Father, the Rock of Ages.

Blessings!

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Check Out the Christian Carnival

There are some great posts in this week's Christian Carnival. It is being hosted at RodneyOlsen.net. You should click on over and pick a post that sounds right for you.

Blessings!

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Ladybug and the Great Doodlebug Relocation Project

I spent the entire day cleaning my house yesterday, and when I say "entire day," that's exactly what I mean. I started at about 8 am, and was finishing up at about 6 pm. I vacuumed under the cushions on the couch, located a missing princess shoe, and even managed to get the sliding glass door cleaned. I pulled off a more amazing feat by zipping outside to mow and fertilize the back yard while my hubby was home for 45 minutes between jobs. It was a good day of hard work, and I was feeling pretty proud of all I had accomplished.

As I was putting the finishing touches on my day of domesticity by baking homemade banana bread, I heard the plaintive cry of my little Ladybug, Avari, as she was playing outside. She was frantically yelling, "Get it, Mama, get it." I ran to the door expecting to see some unruly piece of nature attacking my darling daughter. What I found was a tear-stained 3 year-old grasping two rather large tufts of freshly fertilized lawn - one tuft per hand.

As she stood on the little piece of concrete that serves as a canvas for her sidewalk chalk masterpieces, I quickly scanned the area for the cause of her outburst. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, relatively speaking, I began to ask her what was wrong. She, still crying in that stuttering, panicky fashion, replied, "The doodlebug, Mama, get (sniff) the doodlebug." I again looked around trying to locate the poor, unsuspecting creature only to find . . . nothing. As she used one of her grass-filled fists to point to the edge of the patio, I figured out that the little guy had disappeared into the grass, thus, the rampage against my lawn.

I knelt down and pulled back the grass to see several little doodlebugs cowering in fear. I scooped one up, and cheerfully said, "Look, Mama found him." I proceeded to pry the remnants of my once verdant lawn from her tiny grasp as I produced the balled up bug.

Then, still gasping and sniffling, my little one told me that I needed to put him in the flower bed. Easy enough, I headed to the nearest flower bed, which immediately induced a fresh wave of panic and tears as she cried, "not that flower bed."

At this point, I seriously wanted to retreat to my kitchen to finish my bread before my dog devised a plan to somehow climb up the stools around the island and eat the batter. I not so calmly asked, "Which flower bed would you like Mama to put him in, sweetie?"

She pointed a shaky finger behind me, and I slowly turned to see her indicating the flower bed on the other side of the yard, the side of the yard I had finished watering only minutes before. Translation: the side of the yard that was going to require me to take another shower after the relocation was complete. I tentatively replied, "Are you sure you want to take him so far away from his friends?" To which she unwaveringly answered, "Y-y-y-yes, w-w-with the buttercups (sniff)."

I obligingly hiked my pants up around my knees while balancing the frightened ball of doodlebug in the palm of my hand and began the short trek to my embarrassingly overgrown, buttercup-filled flower bed. The whole time I'm thinking, "We are now relocating this poor fella to the doodlebug equivalent of 4,000 miles from home." When we arrived at our destination a mere 15 seconds later, I placed our "rescued" doodlebug next to a buttercup and hopefully asked, "OK?"

Again, I endured a seemingly unending round of cries and tears. I hurriedly scooped up the bug and inquired as to my mistake. The conversation went something like this:

I asked, "Wasn't that where you wanted him?"

Ladybug said, "Put him by the buttercuuuups."

My response: "You mean where I just had him?"

Her reply: "Yeeees, Mamaaa."

My desperate request for reassurance: "Are you sure?"

Her meager attempt to allay my fears: "Yes (sniff), by the buttercup (sniff)."

Again, I placed the little ball of bug next to the buttercup and said, "I'm sure he'll be happy here in the flowers." As I walked away (I would have run, but kids can smell fear), I heard her cry, "My doodlebug!!!"

Is there a message in my story? Oh, I don't know. I just really thought it was too cute not to share.

I suppose after it happened I thought about how that poor little bug, from his perspective, got picked up by giant hands and placed so far out of his comfort zone that he's probably still rolled in that tiny gray ball.

I feel like rolling up in a tiny gray ball sometimes. Of course, if I was limber enough to roll myself in a ball it wouldn't be tiny by a long shot.

On the other hand, as Ladybug insisted on relocating our friend, she had his best interests at heart - a vast expanse of beautiful wildflowers where he could roam to his doodlebug's heart's content.

It reminded me that although I can't see the big picture of my life from down here in the grass where I try to roll up in a ball when confronted with new obstacles or fears, my Father is carefully and gently moving me toward his perfect plan. That is a relocation project I can get behind!!

Blessings!

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