George Santayana said, "Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it." That quote seems aptly applicable right now. I just returned from spending the morning at the Holocaust Museum Houston. The holocaust has always been a fascinating topic to me. I wrote several term papers through high school and college about varying aspects of this period in our history.
I read the Diary of Anne Frank as a young girl, and I suppose that is what sparked my initial interest in the topic. I guess that being a Christian and understanding that my Christian roots are founded in Judaism contributes to my fascination as well. I would love some day to be able to go to Europe and tour the places that were so significant to the atrocities that were committed and remember on that soil the bravery of those who survived and those who entered the death camps but never left them yet live on in the memories of their loved ones.
A friend of mine who was with me today made a statement that really started me thinking. She said something along the lines of, "I have a hard time understanding how people could work in the concentration camps killing thousands of people and think it was OK. I mean, I understand Hitler was a powerful speaker and leader, but really, how could they justify their actions?" That is an excellent question.
Then, I started considering the answer to that question, which in turn prompted another question in my mind. How can people commit the atrocities they do today and think there is nothing wrong with it? I mean, I know that it is not on the same level as the holocaust, but what about the murder of our unborn children that happens every day in our country and is legal? This killing may not be on the same scale as Auschwitz, Buchenwald, or Dachau, but it is murder nonetheless. Just because we excuse it by giving "justifiable circumstances" does not change the fact that it is heinous.
On a more international note, what about Darfur? People are being brutally murdered and pushed from their homes becoming refugees, and yet, the world sits by and watches it happen. I'm no politician, and I most certainly cannot claim to understand all of the ins and outs of the situation. However, I can see that genocide is taking place and very little is being done to stop it.
Now, I did not write this to depress you or make you feel powerless. On the contrary, I would like to offer a ray of hope. Perhaps, I should call it a nudge of encouragement to be more accurate in the description. Do not forget the history that has brought you to where you are right now, and share that (your life) with someone.
What am I talking about? I am talking about the saving grace of Jesus. I am talking about how His mercies are new every morning. I am saying that He has taken us (if we have accepted his sacrifice) from the miry clay that is our sin and set us upon the solid rock of His righteousness. However, we can learn lessons from our past, and He can help us to share those lessons.
That way, we will not be doomed to repeat the mistakes of our past or the past of our fathers!
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Monday, July 28, 2008
Beauty Is In The Eye Of The Beholder
If you are one of my faithful readers, you are well aware that we have been doing a lot of biking lately to get from place to place. Aside from the obvious health benefits, I have also gained a new perspective on the world around me. I suppose having to slow down has its benefits.
Of course, some of my newly discovered perspectives may have something to do with my foray into the world of photography. I have always been passionate about taking photos, especially since my little one came into our lives. However, I have never really delved into it because I was frustrated by my ineptitude at capturing the beauty I beheld with my eyes. Now that I have begun to study and learn some of the more technical aspects of photography, I am encouraged to find that sometimes I manage to get it to all come together in a beautiful photograph.
So, I said all of that to say that I have slowed down and begun to look for the beauty in the world around me. Do you know what I discovered? No, but you would like to know. Well, I'm glad you asked. I found that you do not have to look very far to find it. Beauty is all around us if we choose to see it.
It is in a simple flower found by the roadside. How amazing that our Creator, our Papa shares this gorgeous gift with us. (By the way, I made a total idiot of myself taking this photo. I was laying in the grass a few feet from the street trying to get the perfect shot. I'm sure the passers-by thought there was something seriously wrong with me.)
It is in a butterfly lighting on a bloom for a split second before flitting off. What a joy to see and treasure His creation.
This beauty is in the smallest details of our children. Do you remember when your little ones were born? Of course, you do! What was I thinking asking such a ludicrous question? Didn't you rejoice in each little finger and every little toe, counting them to be sure there were ten of each?
My lesson learned in the past few weeks is to store up and treasure these gifts. These moments are the true riches of this life. No amount of money can purchase the blessings that are so freely given by our Father. So, take just a few minutes, slow down and enjoy the beauty around you!
Of course, some of my newly discovered perspectives may have something to do with my foray into the world of photography. I have always been passionate about taking photos, especially since my little one came into our lives. However, I have never really delved into it because I was frustrated by my ineptitude at capturing the beauty I beheld with my eyes. Now that I have begun to study and learn some of the more technical aspects of photography, I am encouraged to find that sometimes I manage to get it to all come together in a beautiful photograph.
So, I said all of that to say that I have slowed down and begun to look for the beauty in the world around me. Do you know what I discovered? No, but you would like to know. Well, I'm glad you asked. I found that you do not have to look very far to find it. Beauty is all around us if we choose to see it.
It is in a simple flower found by the roadside. How amazing that our Creator, our Papa shares this gorgeous gift with us. (By the way, I made a total idiot of myself taking this photo. I was laying in the grass a few feet from the street trying to get the perfect shot. I'm sure the passers-by thought there was something seriously wrong with me.)
It is in a butterfly lighting on a bloom for a split second before flitting off. What a joy to see and treasure His creation.
This beauty is in the smallest details of our children. Do you remember when your little ones were born? Of course, you do! What was I thinking asking such a ludicrous question? Didn't you rejoice in each little finger and every little toe, counting them to be sure there were ten of each?
My lesson learned in the past few weeks is to store up and treasure these gifts. These moments are the true riches of this life. No amount of money can purchase the blessings that are so freely given by our Father. So, take just a few minutes, slow down and enjoy the beauty around you!
Saturday, July 26, 2008
When Life Gives You Lemons . . .
When life gives you lemons . . . make lemonade, right? Well, let me just say that after the last week I have about 100 gallons of lemonade, and I'm seriously low on sugar. I mentioned in my last post some of the difficulty we had with our electric provider. I have to admit that I did not handle the situation with the grace that I would have liked. It pretty much happened like this . . .
About a month ago we found out that the retail electric company we recently signed up with was going out of business before we even received our first bill from them. As a result, we did our research and signed up with Reliant. My husband called them and went through the obligatory process to have our electricity switched. We explained at the time that we were customers of the company that was going under. In fact, we paid an additional fee to have our switch made more quickly as we did not want to be caught paying the Provider of Last Resort (POLR) rates.
Breathing a sigh of relief that we had taken care of the issue, we assumed all was well. Then, a couple of weeks ago we received (within days of each other) a letter stating that our switch was being made and a bill made out to "Mass Transition Customer." The bill stated that we owed a $390.00 deposit since we were prior customers of said defunct electric provider. Like a dutiful and responsible bill payer, my husband phoned Reliant to determine why we were getting a bill when we were told that there would be no deposit.
The representative soothed our fears saying that we should ignore the bill. It was an automated mail-out to everyone who had been switched over to them as POLR. We were told that since we had made the switch ourselves there would be no deposit necessary. So, we took his advice and ignored it.
Now, last weekend we received a last minute call to help chaperon a group of teens from our congregation on a trip to San Antonio. We gladly told them we would help. We had a nice time on the trip. We really enjoyed going to Fiesta Texas and spending time with our friends, but after spending two nights on a hard floor, trying to keep my little one happy for 3 days with not enough sleep, and being cramped in a van for many hours, I was ready to be home.
Unfortunately, we arrived home to find that our automatic garage door opener did not respond when we tried to open it. I knew immediately what had happened - they cut off our power because of the deposit we were told we didn't have to pay. I contacted Reliant and spent an inordinate amount of time being "handled" by one of their reps who repeatedly told me, "I understand how you feel." Now, no offense to customer service reps out there, my husband used to be one, but the last thing I wanted to hear was that she, sitting in her air conditioned office, understood what I felt as I sat in my powerless house sweating like I just ran a marathon. She wanted to explain what had happened. I knew exactly what happened - they fouled up! I did my part, and they could not manage to do theirs.
Eventually, I put my husband on the phone to "hold" while they checked on what they could do because getting my lights on was not possible I was told. Miraculously, when they heard a man's voice on the other end of the line, everything began falling into place. And that burns me up too. No matter whether you talk to a male or female in customer service, I have found without fail that my husband can always get a response before I do. So much for equality of the sexes.
So, to bring this rant to a close, they put us up at the local La Quinta after we waited over an hour for them to make the hotel arrangements. We ended up checking out the next day and spending most of the day with my parents because the electricity was still out when we tried to go home. We finally made it home at about 5 o'clock.
My husband also had to spend another hour on the phone with a different representative that afternoon trying to have them remove the deposit from our bill. He really has the patience of Job. They had trouble finding all of the previous calls to verify our claim because IMO, they are inept.
Now, we are waiting to hear back from Reliant's claims department because we lost all of the food in our refrigerator. We went and replaced the few things that we couldn't live without, and we'll work up from there.
I know and understand that companies have policies. I realize that those policies probably have very good business basis. However, I believe that every company should remember that they are dealing with people. Have some compassion and do what is right by your customers. Build and implement your policies so they not only benefit you but the people you are supposed to be serving.
I suppose I am an idealist. I will grant you that I do tend to be optimistic. For me the glass is most often half full. I have done my best to "look on the bright side." I have thought that my bill will be lower this month because I was without power for several days. I considered that losing all the food in my fridge was a terrific opportunity to clean it out. I even went so far as to enjoy the night we spent at the hotel by letting my little one sleep in the "big bed" and turn circles in her sleep. We were even grateful that we were able to take her swimming the next morning.
But if you see me or talk to me in the next few days, and I appear to be a little grumpier than usual, please don't mention lemonade!
About a month ago we found out that the retail electric company we recently signed up with was going out of business before we even received our first bill from them. As a result, we did our research and signed up with Reliant. My husband called them and went through the obligatory process to have our electricity switched. We explained at the time that we were customers of the company that was going under. In fact, we paid an additional fee to have our switch made more quickly as we did not want to be caught paying the Provider of Last Resort (POLR) rates.
Breathing a sigh of relief that we had taken care of the issue, we assumed all was well. Then, a couple of weeks ago we received (within days of each other) a letter stating that our switch was being made and a bill made out to "Mass Transition Customer." The bill stated that we owed a $390.00 deposit since we were prior customers of said defunct electric provider. Like a dutiful and responsible bill payer, my husband phoned Reliant to determine why we were getting a bill when we were told that there would be no deposit.
The representative soothed our fears saying that we should ignore the bill. It was an automated mail-out to everyone who had been switched over to them as POLR. We were told that since we had made the switch ourselves there would be no deposit necessary. So, we took his advice and ignored it.
Now, last weekend we received a last minute call to help chaperon a group of teens from our congregation on a trip to San Antonio. We gladly told them we would help. We had a nice time on the trip. We really enjoyed going to Fiesta Texas and spending time with our friends, but after spending two nights on a hard floor, trying to keep my little one happy for 3 days with not enough sleep, and being cramped in a van for many hours, I was ready to be home.
Unfortunately, we arrived home to find that our automatic garage door opener did not respond when we tried to open it. I knew immediately what had happened - they cut off our power because of the deposit we were told we didn't have to pay. I contacted Reliant and spent an inordinate amount of time being "handled" by one of their reps who repeatedly told me, "I understand how you feel." Now, no offense to customer service reps out there, my husband used to be one, but the last thing I wanted to hear was that she, sitting in her air conditioned office, understood what I felt as I sat in my powerless house sweating like I just ran a marathon. She wanted to explain what had happened. I knew exactly what happened - they fouled up! I did my part, and they could not manage to do theirs.
Eventually, I put my husband on the phone to "hold" while they checked on what they could do because getting my lights on was not possible I was told. Miraculously, when they heard a man's voice on the other end of the line, everything began falling into place. And that burns me up too. No matter whether you talk to a male or female in customer service, I have found without fail that my husband can always get a response before I do. So much for equality of the sexes.
So, to bring this rant to a close, they put us up at the local La Quinta after we waited over an hour for them to make the hotel arrangements. We ended up checking out the next day and spending most of the day with my parents because the electricity was still out when we tried to go home. We finally made it home at about 5 o'clock.
My husband also had to spend another hour on the phone with a different representative that afternoon trying to have them remove the deposit from our bill. He really has the patience of Job. They had trouble finding all of the previous calls to verify our claim because IMO, they are inept.
Now, we are waiting to hear back from Reliant's claims department because we lost all of the food in our refrigerator. We went and replaced the few things that we couldn't live without, and we'll work up from there.
I know and understand that companies have policies. I realize that those policies probably have very good business basis. However, I believe that every company should remember that they are dealing with people. Have some compassion and do what is right by your customers. Build and implement your policies so they not only benefit you but the people you are supposed to be serving.
I suppose I am an idealist. I will grant you that I do tend to be optimistic. For me the glass is most often half full. I have done my best to "look on the bright side." I have thought that my bill will be lower this month because I was without power for several days. I considered that losing all the food in my fridge was a terrific opportunity to clean it out. I even went so far as to enjoy the night we spent at the hotel by letting my little one sleep in the "big bed" and turn circles in her sleep. We were even grateful that we were able to take her swimming the next morning.
But if you see me or talk to me in the next few days, and I appear to be a little grumpier than usual, please don't mention lemonade!
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
I'm Back!
I just wanted to say that I survived. I survived a trip to San Antonio with a bunch of teenagers, my husband, my daughter and two other adults. We slept on the floor of a church (well, I can't really claim to have slept - I did lay on the floor though). We went to Fiesta Texas, and I thoroughly enjoyed the second half of our day there. We actually got back into town yesterday, and then the drama started.
I won't go into all the details because I haven't the time or the moral fortitude to contend with it right now. Suffice it to say that when we got home Reliant in their all-knowing power cut off our electricity. They comped a night at the local La Quinta and finally had our power back on this evening but not before ruining hundreds of dollars of food in our fridge.
Well, I said all of that to just say that I'm back. I'll be getting around to blogging regularly again in the next few days. I have plenty of fodder for the blogosphere after the last several days. So, have a nice night, and I'll talk to ya soon!
I won't go into all the details because I haven't the time or the moral fortitude to contend with it right now. Suffice it to say that when we got home Reliant in their all-knowing power cut off our electricity. They comped a night at the local La Quinta and finally had our power back on this evening but not before ruining hundreds of dollars of food in our fridge.
Well, I said all of that to just say that I'm back. I'll be getting around to blogging regularly again in the next few days. I have plenty of fodder for the blogosphere after the last several days. So, have a nice night, and I'll talk to ya soon!
Friday, July 18, 2008
Growing Pains
As I sit here to type this post, my house is quiet. It's almost eerie to hear the sound of silence. I miss the sounds of laughter and the sound of my daughter asking in her angelic voice, "Please, Mama, will you put the big pink necklace on me." Avari is staying away from home for the first time. She is going to spend the night with my parents. We are laying wagers on whether she'll call for us to come get her. I suppose we'll have our answer in about an hour.
I am torn between two feelings. On the one hand, I am sad that I will not be tucking my baby in for bed tonight for the first time in her 2 1/2 year old life. On the other hand, I am so excited for her because I remember nights spent with my grandparents. It was a treat always eagerly anticipated and one that I still look back on with the fondest of memories.
I suppose we have waited longer than most to take this step. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that we don't really have many urges to do things that don't include Avari. Perhaps, it is because we did all of that for so many years before she came along that we got it out of our systems. Possibly, we wanted her so much and for so long that even missing one night with her seems a sacrifice of that which we longed for and are so thankful to have. Maybe it is just an acquired taste.
Whatever the reason, I know that Avari will enjoy this time with her MiMi and Pop. It will be good for her and probably good for us if for no other reason than we will enjoy having her home again that much more tomorrow.
So, does anyone care to wager on who will be more homesick - us or Avari? I suppose I've already given you the answer to that one. The winning bet would be on me. I suppose it's just hard work for a girl to raise her parents. I sure hope we turn out OK. I want to make my little girl proud!
Sweet dreams!
I am torn between two feelings. On the one hand, I am sad that I will not be tucking my baby in for bed tonight for the first time in her 2 1/2 year old life. On the other hand, I am so excited for her because I remember nights spent with my grandparents. It was a treat always eagerly anticipated and one that I still look back on with the fondest of memories.
I suppose we have waited longer than most to take this step. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that we don't really have many urges to do things that don't include Avari. Perhaps, it is because we did all of that for so many years before she came along that we got it out of our systems. Possibly, we wanted her so much and for so long that even missing one night with her seems a sacrifice of that which we longed for and are so thankful to have. Maybe it is just an acquired taste.
Whatever the reason, I know that Avari will enjoy this time with her MiMi and Pop. It will be good for her and probably good for us if for no other reason than we will enjoy having her home again that much more tomorrow.
So, does anyone care to wager on who will be more homesick - us or Avari? I suppose I've already given you the answer to that one. The winning bet would be on me. I suppose it's just hard work for a girl to raise her parents. I sure hope we turn out OK. I want to make my little girl proud!
Sweet dreams!
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Transparency Trials
Did you think I had gone AWOL? I have been unable to blog the past few days as my computer time has been limited. My husband has been holding our PC hostage, and I thought I was going to have to take it by force. Fortunately, he surrendered peacefully so there was no bloodshed. It really is a bit sad how lost I have been without my web time. I felt as if I had lost a limb. It's not so much that I surf the web, but I do read a lot, and sitting here typing and reading is cathartic. It is my "me time." Alright, now let's get down to business and spend a few minutes talking about transparency.
Lately, Papa has been asking something of me that is particularly difficult. He has been prodding me to be transparent. The difficulty lies not in the fact that I have something to hide but in the fact that transparency makes me vulnerable. If I allow myself to be seen as who and what I really am, everyone will have the ability to judge, if they so choose, the real me.
I like to think that I am not the only one to struggle with this request. I tend to want people to think the best of me, so I try to put my best foot forward. It doesn't always work, but for the most part, I feel I am well thought of. The words that have been knocking me around lately are "be transparent."
I've always thought that being transparent would just let everyone see everything (positive and negative). However, I took some time today to check the dictionary for a definition of transparent. I hope you'll be as pleasantly surprised as I was by my discovery.
Transparent: Capable of transmitting light so that objects or images can be seen as if there were no intervening material. Wait for it, wait for it. Yes, that was the sound of your mind being blown. Papa has been asking me to be transparent not so everyone can see my junk but so they can see Him.
I know. I was amazed and stupefied as well. All this time I've struggled with how I can be obedient while not showing all my insecurities, etc. Then He shows me that if I will be transparent, people will only see Him through me.
It's kind of like looking through a window. If the window is clouded or dirty, the light does not get through, or at least, it doesn't come through as strongly and clearly. But, if the window is completely transparent, the light we see is brilliant. I don't know about you, but I so don't want to be a dirty window! Matthew 5:14-16 says this:
Lately, Papa has been asking something of me that is particularly difficult. He has been prodding me to be transparent. The difficulty lies not in the fact that I have something to hide but in the fact that transparency makes me vulnerable. If I allow myself to be seen as who and what I really am, everyone will have the ability to judge, if they so choose, the real me.
I like to think that I am not the only one to struggle with this request. I tend to want people to think the best of me, so I try to put my best foot forward. It doesn't always work, but for the most part, I feel I am well thought of. The words that have been knocking me around lately are "be transparent."
I've always thought that being transparent would just let everyone see everything (positive and negative). However, I took some time today to check the dictionary for a definition of transparent. I hope you'll be as pleasantly surprised as I was by my discovery.
Transparent: Capable of transmitting light so that objects or images can be seen as if there were no intervening material. Wait for it, wait for it. Yes, that was the sound of your mind being blown. Papa has been asking me to be transparent not so everyone can see my junk but so they can see Him.
I know. I was amazed and stupefied as well. All this time I've struggled with how I can be obedient while not showing all my insecurities, etc. Then He shows me that if I will be transparent, people will only see Him through me.
It's kind of like looking through a window. If the window is clouded or dirty, the light does not get through, or at least, it doesn't come through as strongly and clearly. But, if the window is completely transparent, the light we see is brilliant. I don't know about you, but I so don't want to be a dirty window! Matthew 5:14-16 says this:
14You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden. 15Nor do people light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a stand, and it gives light to all in the house. 16In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven.So, I'm going to get the Windex out and clean this window. I want to let His light, His radiance, His brilliance shine through me as I endeavor to be transparent.
Sunday, July 13, 2008
How to Teach Your Kid About God
Well, when I put up my Reader's Choice post a couple of weeks ago, I was anxiously anticipating what the topic suggestions would be. Unfortunately, I've only gotten one request. However, I've been giving this topic a lot of thought, and I have not come up with any revelatory ideas. I thought I would give my thoughts on the subject and then ask you for your input. My reader suggested that I write a post on activities that families can do to instill the knowledge of God in their children.
No pressure, right? I have been thinking about this over the last week or so, and I kept coming back to the idea that every day we have opportunities to share our faith with our kids. If we are committed Jesus-lovers, our faith is infused into everything we set our hands to do. Maybe I am just drawing a blank because I'm not very creative on this subject, but God has been speaking to me that rather than trying to invent or create specific instances of sharing my faith with my daughter, I should tune my heart in to the opportunities that He presents. I suppose I will just try to share the way I approach my responsibility of teaching Avari about our Father.
First of all, when we wake in the morning, I try to remember to start our day with a prayer - nothing fancy, just putting Papa first in our lives and asking for His presence and guidance. It doesn't always happen that way. Sometimes we launch right into other things, but that is my intent.
As we wrap up our day and put Avari to bed, we read out of one of her children's Bibles. We give her the opportunity to ask questions, try to pronounce the names of people and places and discuss the events that are taking place in the story. She has a particular affinity to the story of Jonah, the story of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, and she loves to read about the garden of Gethsemane. Our goal is to make it a bonding time but make it fun too. Of course, if she decides she would rather have a storybook every once in a while, we don't force the issue. We do not want to make it a "religious requirement" that she has to fulfill. We want her to enjoy the Bible.
After we read with her, we say our prayers. She prays first, and then Mommy says a prayer. Last but not least, Daddy prays. Of course, her prayers still revolve around listing all the people who are important to her. Although there are times when she will mention someone we know out of the blue and pray for them. Those are the really cool times because we will often find out later that there was a reason they needed prayer. Oh, to have the faith of a child!
The reason we all pray is that we want her to realize that there is not a right or wrong way to pray - it is a conversation with Father. I know that when I was a child, I did not know how to make the transition from the "list of blessing" prayers to truly speaking my heart to God. By letting her hear our prayers she can see that there is no formula - you are just talking to Papa about what is on your heart. That is real relationship. I mean, if I said the same thing to my husband every day with no changes to the script and no real thought or feeling behind the words, it wouldn't have much meaning, would it?
The last thing we do before tucking her in is sing Amazing Grace. That may sound like a strange bedtime song, but it was the one that she always loved from the time she was a baby. We tried out all sorts of different songs, but that is the one that always soothed her. If we offer to sing something different, she still chooses the same song every night. What is sweet is that now she knows almost all the words to the verses, and she sings along. She always finishes by saying that it makes Jesus happy to hear us sing; I suppose telling her that repeatedly has made an impact.
Those are the only things in our daily routine that are actually planned faith moments. The rest of the time we use opportunities to teach as they present themselves. Perhaps since my daughter is only 2 1/2, I have not seen the need to create those experiences with special activities. I mean, as your children get older, I suppose there are all sorts of things like concerts and special events that can help reinforce the lessons you are conveying.
To be honest, I have found that as we model our faith before her, our daughter seems to be learning those lessons effortlessly. Father is the center of our lives, so He is just ever-present whether it be our conversation or our actions. For me, I am not so worried about imparting a knowledge of God to her. I think that is probably the easier part.
I am more concerned about conveying what it should be like to be in relationship with Papa. If I teach her nothing else in life, I want her to leave the nest with a passionate, loving relationship with her Father. My desire is to hear the voice of Father in my parenting so she will desire to come to know Him and walk with Him from a very early age.
Really, it boils down to hearing His voice. He will lead and guide us through this obstacle course called parenting. He desires to give us the insights we need to foster that bond between Him and our children. Ultimately, walking in His footsteps and modeling His love is the best way to gift our children with His presence in their lives.
Now it's your turn. What activities do you think are conducive to teaching our children about God? I would love to hear your feedback on this topic - Sound off!
No pressure, right? I have been thinking about this over the last week or so, and I kept coming back to the idea that every day we have opportunities to share our faith with our kids. If we are committed Jesus-lovers, our faith is infused into everything we set our hands to do. Maybe I am just drawing a blank because I'm not very creative on this subject, but God has been speaking to me that rather than trying to invent or create specific instances of sharing my faith with my daughter, I should tune my heart in to the opportunities that He presents. I suppose I will just try to share the way I approach my responsibility of teaching Avari about our Father.
First of all, when we wake in the morning, I try to remember to start our day with a prayer - nothing fancy, just putting Papa first in our lives and asking for His presence and guidance. It doesn't always happen that way. Sometimes we launch right into other things, but that is my intent.
As we wrap up our day and put Avari to bed, we read out of one of her children's Bibles. We give her the opportunity to ask questions, try to pronounce the names of people and places and discuss the events that are taking place in the story. She has a particular affinity to the story of Jonah, the story of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, and she loves to read about the garden of Gethsemane. Our goal is to make it a bonding time but make it fun too. Of course, if she decides she would rather have a storybook every once in a while, we don't force the issue. We do not want to make it a "religious requirement" that she has to fulfill. We want her to enjoy the Bible.
After we read with her, we say our prayers. She prays first, and then Mommy says a prayer. Last but not least, Daddy prays. Of course, her prayers still revolve around listing all the people who are important to her. Although there are times when she will mention someone we know out of the blue and pray for them. Those are the really cool times because we will often find out later that there was a reason they needed prayer. Oh, to have the faith of a child!
The reason we all pray is that we want her to realize that there is not a right or wrong way to pray - it is a conversation with Father. I know that when I was a child, I did not know how to make the transition from the "list of blessing" prayers to truly speaking my heart to God. By letting her hear our prayers she can see that there is no formula - you are just talking to Papa about what is on your heart. That is real relationship. I mean, if I said the same thing to my husband every day with no changes to the script and no real thought or feeling behind the words, it wouldn't have much meaning, would it?
The last thing we do before tucking her in is sing Amazing Grace. That may sound like a strange bedtime song, but it was the one that she always loved from the time she was a baby. We tried out all sorts of different songs, but that is the one that always soothed her. If we offer to sing something different, she still chooses the same song every night. What is sweet is that now she knows almost all the words to the verses, and she sings along. She always finishes by saying that it makes Jesus happy to hear us sing; I suppose telling her that repeatedly has made an impact.
Those are the only things in our daily routine that are actually planned faith moments. The rest of the time we use opportunities to teach as they present themselves. Perhaps since my daughter is only 2 1/2, I have not seen the need to create those experiences with special activities. I mean, as your children get older, I suppose there are all sorts of things like concerts and special events that can help reinforce the lessons you are conveying.
To be honest, I have found that as we model our faith before her, our daughter seems to be learning those lessons effortlessly. Father is the center of our lives, so He is just ever-present whether it be our conversation or our actions. For me, I am not so worried about imparting a knowledge of God to her. I think that is probably the easier part.
I am more concerned about conveying what it should be like to be in relationship with Papa. If I teach her nothing else in life, I want her to leave the nest with a passionate, loving relationship with her Father. My desire is to hear the voice of Father in my parenting so she will desire to come to know Him and walk with Him from a very early age.
Really, it boils down to hearing His voice. He will lead and guide us through this obstacle course called parenting. He desires to give us the insights we need to foster that bond between Him and our children. Ultimately, walking in His footsteps and modeling His love is the best way to gift our children with His presence in their lives.
Now it's your turn. What activities do you think are conducive to teaching our children about God? I would love to hear your feedback on this topic - Sound off!
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Junior High Flashback
Let me begin by saying that I was not a popular kid in junior high. Maybe it had something to do with me transferring from a private school to public school as I entered junior high, but I never felt that I belonged. At first, I tried to fit in by using swear words that all the other kids were using, which looking back was pretty ridiculous since I had no idea what any of them meant. I usually wore hand-me-down clothes, and I was a little chubby. To add insult to injury, I was a good student, and that certainly was not appreciated by the other kids. The result was that I was called all sorts of derogatory names.
I know that lots of kids are tormented in junior high. It seems to be a common thread that many of us share. I was probably a little more sensitive to the jaunts and adjustment that my transition required. I spent the first week and a half crying in the commons before school, which of course, did not raise my standing any with of the other kids. Then I was just the weird girl who cried all the time. Well, last night I had a total junior high flashback.
Let me clarify before I relate my experience that my flashback had nothing to do with the people involved and everything to do with my own insecurities. I went to a scrapbooking evening with some ladies from our local congregation. I will say that the evening turned out to be a very pleasant surprise; however, it did not start out that way for me. Well, that is not accurate either. The trip was great; it was when we arrived at our destination to scrapbook that things went downhill for me.
I love letting people look at my scrapbooks (as long as the person looking is related to me - they have to love and approve even if my product isn't that spectacular). I am very private about my scrapbooking because I do not have and cannot afford all the nifty gadgets and paper kits, etc. that generally goes along with the hobby. My scrapbooking primarily consists of paper, pens and pictures. I'm really very basic - more by necessity than by desire. I try to be as creative as my budget will allow, but honestly, by the time I purchase paper, tape/glue, and pens, there are just very few funds left for other things.
That being said, let me tell you my story. To begin with, I was already feeling self-conscious because I was only able to attend the scrapping party as a result of a friend paying my way. I had never scrapped at a store before, but I packed my little pages and determined to step out of my comfort zone. I realized as I was packing up to leave that my paper trimmer was broken, but I figured I could borrow one from one of the other ladies (I didn't realize I could borrow one from the store - doh!).
We arrived and several of the ladies were already there and were busily working on their pages. I quickly realized that sharing a paper trimmer with someone was not really feasible (and again, I had no idea I could borrow one from the store). I decided that I would try just using scissors, and about 3 inches into my cut I realized that was a very bad plan.
At this point I could feel myself starting to blush, which happens rather easily as most who know me can attest. There were 7 of us, and I was feeling that I was definitely the odd man out. A very good friend of mine was sitting at the other end of the table, but she had brought a friend with her. They were discussing their work together. Two of the other ladies are next door neighbors, and they were busy working together as well. The remaining two (not counting myself) were eating dinner before they started their projects. That left me.
In order to avoid turning about 20 shades of red in front of them I extricated myself from the table and began to walk around the store (for lack of better occupation). I tried to call my husband to commiserate about the fact that I did not have an escape route and was stuck there til midnight, but he didn't answer his phone. I resorted to calling my mom - how sad, right? Here I am, nearly 33 years old, calling my mommy because I didn't think any of the other kids wanted to play with me. That is truly pathetic.
I probably spent 30 minutes or more just walking around the store. I looked at tons of cute scrapping stuff (none of which I could afford). I even found some really cute Cinderella stickers that Avari would have loved, but I could not justify $5 for stickers that would last all of 30 seconds. I finally found a fairly inexpensive little paper trimmer to replace my old one. I couldn't afford that either, but I figured if I was going to make it through the evening without crying, it was necessary (to mention it once more, I had no clue I could borrow one).
Even the purchase of the cutter was somewhat humiliating. The salesperson offered to just leave the ticket open since we were scrapping there in the store in case I wanted to buy anything else. I quickly thanked her but declined, knowing that I had nothing more to spend. I watched for the rest of the evening as everyone else would pop over to the cute papers, stamps, etc. to accessorize their various pages - all of which put my sad efforts to shame.
So, I bowed my head and went to work. Right after I opened my paper cutter I found out you could borrow one (thank you for the chorus of repetition). I started doing my poor girl scrapping - working on my titles and trimming my pictures. Man, it was like junior high all over again. I felt like I was sitting there in my hand-me-down clothes that never quite fit right with my really bad haircut - an attempt at the wings. Come on, you people that remember the late 80's know what I'm talking about. I felt ashamed even as I sat there - ashamed that I felt so strongly about all of this.
Then God reminded me of something - who I am does not rest in how much money I have. I am a child of the King. My identity is all wrapped up in who my Father is. I have nothing to prove. Let me just say again that none of my inadequate feelings resulted from anything any of these ladies did. It was my perception of what they would think of me that caused my misery.
Ultimately, the conversation opened up, and everyone interacted together. I picked up some new ideas that I can do even without fancy tools, and I was able to share some techniques that they had never considered. It seems that necessity really can be the mother of invention.
I suppose you can take from my experience whatever you wish. What I gained was a new respect for my friends as I opened up to share something very personal to me. I realized that it is hard to step out of my comfort zone but so rewarding. It reminded me that Papa is with me no matter how alone I feel even in the midst of a crowd. And, I learned that I should always remember in whom my identity lies!
I know that lots of kids are tormented in junior high. It seems to be a common thread that many of us share. I was probably a little more sensitive to the jaunts and adjustment that my transition required. I spent the first week and a half crying in the commons before school, which of course, did not raise my standing any with of the other kids. Then I was just the weird girl who cried all the time. Well, last night I had a total junior high flashback.
Let me clarify before I relate my experience that my flashback had nothing to do with the people involved and everything to do with my own insecurities. I went to a scrapbooking evening with some ladies from our local congregation. I will say that the evening turned out to be a very pleasant surprise; however, it did not start out that way for me. Well, that is not accurate either. The trip was great; it was when we arrived at our destination to scrapbook that things went downhill for me.
I love letting people look at my scrapbooks (as long as the person looking is related to me - they have to love and approve even if my product isn't that spectacular). I am very private about my scrapbooking because I do not have and cannot afford all the nifty gadgets and paper kits, etc. that generally goes along with the hobby. My scrapbooking primarily consists of paper, pens and pictures. I'm really very basic - more by necessity than by desire. I try to be as creative as my budget will allow, but honestly, by the time I purchase paper, tape/glue, and pens, there are just very few funds left for other things.
That being said, let me tell you my story. To begin with, I was already feeling self-conscious because I was only able to attend the scrapping party as a result of a friend paying my way. I had never scrapped at a store before, but I packed my little pages and determined to step out of my comfort zone. I realized as I was packing up to leave that my paper trimmer was broken, but I figured I could borrow one from one of the other ladies (I didn't realize I could borrow one from the store - doh!).
We arrived and several of the ladies were already there and were busily working on their pages. I quickly realized that sharing a paper trimmer with someone was not really feasible (and again, I had no idea I could borrow one from the store). I decided that I would try just using scissors, and about 3 inches into my cut I realized that was a very bad plan.
At this point I could feel myself starting to blush, which happens rather easily as most who know me can attest. There were 7 of us, and I was feeling that I was definitely the odd man out. A very good friend of mine was sitting at the other end of the table, but she had brought a friend with her. They were discussing their work together. Two of the other ladies are next door neighbors, and they were busy working together as well. The remaining two (not counting myself) were eating dinner before they started their projects. That left me.
In order to avoid turning about 20 shades of red in front of them I extricated myself from the table and began to walk around the store (for lack of better occupation). I tried to call my husband to commiserate about the fact that I did not have an escape route and was stuck there til midnight, but he didn't answer his phone. I resorted to calling my mom - how sad, right? Here I am, nearly 33 years old, calling my mommy because I didn't think any of the other kids wanted to play with me. That is truly pathetic.
I probably spent 30 minutes or more just walking around the store. I looked at tons of cute scrapping stuff (none of which I could afford). I even found some really cute Cinderella stickers that Avari would have loved, but I could not justify $5 for stickers that would last all of 30 seconds. I finally found a fairly inexpensive little paper trimmer to replace my old one. I couldn't afford that either, but I figured if I was going to make it through the evening without crying, it was necessary (to mention it once more, I had no clue I could borrow one).
Even the purchase of the cutter was somewhat humiliating. The salesperson offered to just leave the ticket open since we were scrapping there in the store in case I wanted to buy anything else. I quickly thanked her but declined, knowing that I had nothing more to spend. I watched for the rest of the evening as everyone else would pop over to the cute papers, stamps, etc. to accessorize their various pages - all of which put my sad efforts to shame.
So, I bowed my head and went to work. Right after I opened my paper cutter I found out you could borrow one (thank you for the chorus of repetition). I started doing my poor girl scrapping - working on my titles and trimming my pictures. Man, it was like junior high all over again. I felt like I was sitting there in my hand-me-down clothes that never quite fit right with my really bad haircut - an attempt at the wings. Come on, you people that remember the late 80's know what I'm talking about. I felt ashamed even as I sat there - ashamed that I felt so strongly about all of this.
Then God reminded me of something - who I am does not rest in how much money I have. I am a child of the King. My identity is all wrapped up in who my Father is. I have nothing to prove. Let me just say again that none of my inadequate feelings resulted from anything any of these ladies did. It was my perception of what they would think of me that caused my misery.
Ultimately, the conversation opened up, and everyone interacted together. I picked up some new ideas that I can do even without fancy tools, and I was able to share some techniques that they had never considered. It seems that necessity really can be the mother of invention.
I suppose you can take from my experience whatever you wish. What I gained was a new respect for my friends as I opened up to share something very personal to me. I realized that it is hard to step out of my comfort zone but so rewarding. It reminded me that Papa is with me no matter how alone I feel even in the midst of a crowd. And, I learned that I should always remember in whom my identity lies!
Friday, July 11, 2008
Watch Where You Drip That Paint
Have you ever tried to paint a very detailed item with a brush that was too large for the project? I have made that very mistake and more than once. I convinced myself that if I was careful I could paint that small detail-work with a larger brush so I would save myself a trip to the local hardware store and a dollar in the process. What I quickly discovered was the gas money and cost of the smaller paintbrush would have saved me the infinitely more costly heartache that I suffered for taking my shortcut.
I said all of that to say this: I had a conversation recently where someone used a very broad brush to paint an entire profession. In fact, I had to extricate myself from the discussion in a less than delicate fashion in order to prevent my mouth from eating my foot by saying something I would regret later.
I was told of a potential miracle cure for a very serious illness. I sceptically asked the person if it was so effective why we have never heard about it. I was told that it was an herb and doctors are only interested in pushing pills to make a profit. In fact, doctors are making so much money that all they do is prey on the illnesses of poor, unsuspecting patients and get them "hooked on pills so they have to come back once a week, or month, or 3 months."
My response to this statement was to give the example of a dear friend of mine who has been offered a top spot at a hospital, but she turned it down to go to Africa to treat children with AIDS instead. In addition, I reminded this person of the fact that Father had used a medical practitioner to help us conceive our daughter. It was quickly pointed out that the doctor made a tidy sum for his help.
Now, I realize that there are physicians who are not altruistic in their approach to practicing medicine. I also recognize that not all of them are profit-seeking despots searching out opportunities to prey on the weak. You cannot categorize such a distinctly detailed issue with the hasty generalization used by my friend. After all, does one bad apple really ruin the whole bunch?
If I buy into the fallacy that all doctors are evil, gold-digging tyrants, then I negate all of the admirable qualities held by so many of our healthcare professionals. As to their making a profit at my expense, I choose to seek their treatment and counsel; therefore, I must pay their fees. Besides, have you checked on the cost of getting a medical degree? These individuals spend tens of thousands of dollars to pay for their education. Not to mention the years studying and working for nothing before they can even begin making a living at what they do.
Again, I am not naive enough to believe that all of our doctors are noble, selfless servants. At the same time, neither are they all self-seeking, egocentric profiteers. You cannot paint so intricately with such a broad brush. After all, if my daughter decides to pursue the medical profession, I can say with assurance that she will not be doing it out of selfishness and desire for gain.
It goes back to a post I wrote several weeks ago about putting others into a box. After all, saying that I am a mother does not categorize the totality of my being. In the same way, having a PhD following your name does not completely explain who that person is as an individual. The character of the person will determine the manner in which he pursues his chosen profession. That is true of everyone from physicians and lawyers to mechanics and homemakers.
I know that I will think more carefully next time I am tempted to pull out my paintbrush of judgment. Should I judge an entire profession by the acts of a few individuals? Let us consider that though it may seem logical at the time - faster and more efficient - to use that broad brush, more likely than not, it will cause us infinitely more time and trouble to clean up the mess we make in our haste. Our disparaging remarks affect others - they are painful, often more so than a slap to the face or a kick in the shin.
I do not use this scripture often because I think it is overused in many cases. However, it is perfectly applicable to this situation. Jesus tells us in Matthew 7:1-2:
I said all of that to say this: I had a conversation recently where someone used a very broad brush to paint an entire profession. In fact, I had to extricate myself from the discussion in a less than delicate fashion in order to prevent my mouth from eating my foot by saying something I would regret later.
I was told of a potential miracle cure for a very serious illness. I sceptically asked the person if it was so effective why we have never heard about it. I was told that it was an herb and doctors are only interested in pushing pills to make a profit. In fact, doctors are making so much money that all they do is prey on the illnesses of poor, unsuspecting patients and get them "hooked on pills so they have to come back once a week, or month, or 3 months."
My response to this statement was to give the example of a dear friend of mine who has been offered a top spot at a hospital, but she turned it down to go to Africa to treat children with AIDS instead. In addition, I reminded this person of the fact that Father had used a medical practitioner to help us conceive our daughter. It was quickly pointed out that the doctor made a tidy sum for his help.
Now, I realize that there are physicians who are not altruistic in their approach to practicing medicine. I also recognize that not all of them are profit-seeking despots searching out opportunities to prey on the weak. You cannot categorize such a distinctly detailed issue with the hasty generalization used by my friend. After all, does one bad apple really ruin the whole bunch?
If I buy into the fallacy that all doctors are evil, gold-digging tyrants, then I negate all of the admirable qualities held by so many of our healthcare professionals. As to their making a profit at my expense, I choose to seek their treatment and counsel; therefore, I must pay their fees. Besides, have you checked on the cost of getting a medical degree? These individuals spend tens of thousands of dollars to pay for their education. Not to mention the years studying and working for nothing before they can even begin making a living at what they do.
Again, I am not naive enough to believe that all of our doctors are noble, selfless servants. At the same time, neither are they all self-seeking, egocentric profiteers. You cannot paint so intricately with such a broad brush. After all, if my daughter decides to pursue the medical profession, I can say with assurance that she will not be doing it out of selfishness and desire for gain.
It goes back to a post I wrote several weeks ago about putting others into a box. After all, saying that I am a mother does not categorize the totality of my being. In the same way, having a PhD following your name does not completely explain who that person is as an individual. The character of the person will determine the manner in which he pursues his chosen profession. That is true of everyone from physicians and lawyers to mechanics and homemakers.
I know that I will think more carefully next time I am tempted to pull out my paintbrush of judgment. Should I judge an entire profession by the acts of a few individuals? Let us consider that though it may seem logical at the time - faster and more efficient - to use that broad brush, more likely than not, it will cause us infinitely more time and trouble to clean up the mess we make in our haste. Our disparaging remarks affect others - they are painful, often more so than a slap to the face or a kick in the shin.
I do not use this scripture often because I think it is overused in many cases. However, it is perfectly applicable to this situation. Jesus tells us in Matthew 7:1-2:
1Judge not, that you be not judged. 2For with the judgment you pronounce you will be judged, and with the measure you use it will be measured to you.So, next time we decide to sling some paint with that broad brush of ours let's stop to consider this thought: Some of the paint you sling may wind up on you.
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
I Want It My Way
Selfishness. I battle against it in varying degrees. Sometimes the fighting is fierce, and other times it wanes to small skirmishes. Selfishness. It seeps into the cracks of my soul and mars what might otherwise be successful endeavors. It is silent, and in many cases overlooked. Sometimes, it is even applauded by others.
My daughter is very vocal when she feels she is not getting her way. At times, she launches into a barrage of whiny requests wearing me thin until I am left clinging to the last vestiges of my resolve like a drowning man to a life raft.
I tend to be a little more passive aggressive in my disputes. I am no less resolute or determined than my daughter, but my plan of attack differs. It seems to be easy to justify my desires in some form or fashion. So many times in this journey I find that justification of my plans or wishes means nullification of Father's.
I discover daily that the more I relinquish the things I hold dear and trust Papa to care for me, the weaker Selfishness becomes. It is a never-ending juxtaposition of my will versus my Father's will. Some days, I succeed in submission, and others I fail miserably. However, I pray that I am learning from each successive experience because the triumphs of Selfishness equate to inability, or even worse, refusal to hear God's voice.
I love I Corinthians 13. It paints a beautiful portrait of our Father. However, it also harshly demonstrates how little like Him I am at most times. Lately, Papa has used I Corinthians 13:4-8 as a remonstrance for me:
By nature, I am a social person. I enjoy interaction with others. I thrive on relationships. However, through experiences of pain I had learned to be satisfied with my family. I had, for the most part, closed myself off from outside relationships. Slowly and with a great deal of prodding, Father is changing that fact.
As He loves me perfectly each day, and I reciprocate that love to Him, I begin to once again view others through His eyes, seeing the beauty and opportunity for shared joy and pain. I no longer see others as projects for my ministry. I view each individual as a potential friend and fellow member of Father's family.
As a result, I grow in the ability to lay aside Selfishness to touch the hearts of those who are hurting and to have my heart touched in return. The particular verse that has resounded like a bass drum in my heart these last few days is I Corinthians 13:5, "It does not insist on its own way." If that is not a shot at selfishness taken with pinpoint accuracy, well, I haven't a clue what is.
So, I have made it my goal to be intentional in relationships with others even to the point of doing things that do not necessarily represent my deepest felt loves in life, even some things that I do not enjoy in the least. All of this is an effort to obliterate, nullify, if you will, Selfishness.
The fact is, the further I remove myself from this Selfishness that plagues me, the closer I draw to my Father's arms. And that, my friend, is where I want to live this journey - safely ensconced in Papa's arms.
My daughter is very vocal when she feels she is not getting her way. At times, she launches into a barrage of whiny requests wearing me thin until I am left clinging to the last vestiges of my resolve like a drowning man to a life raft.
I tend to be a little more passive aggressive in my disputes. I am no less resolute or determined than my daughter, but my plan of attack differs. It seems to be easy to justify my desires in some form or fashion. So many times in this journey I find that justification of my plans or wishes means nullification of Father's.
I discover daily that the more I relinquish the things I hold dear and trust Papa to care for me, the weaker Selfishness becomes. It is a never-ending juxtaposition of my will versus my Father's will. Some days, I succeed in submission, and others I fail miserably. However, I pray that I am learning from each successive experience because the triumphs of Selfishness equate to inability, or even worse, refusal to hear God's voice.
I love I Corinthians 13. It paints a beautiful portrait of our Father. However, it also harshly demonstrates how little like Him I am at most times. Lately, Papa has used I Corinthians 13:4-8 as a remonstrance for me:
4Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant 5or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; 6it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. 7 Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. 8Love never ends.Those words represent the love that Papa has shown to me. They also represent the brand of love I should be showing to others.
By nature, I am a social person. I enjoy interaction with others. I thrive on relationships. However, through experiences of pain I had learned to be satisfied with my family. I had, for the most part, closed myself off from outside relationships. Slowly and with a great deal of prodding, Father is changing that fact.
As He loves me perfectly each day, and I reciprocate that love to Him, I begin to once again view others through His eyes, seeing the beauty and opportunity for shared joy and pain. I no longer see others as projects for my ministry. I view each individual as a potential friend and fellow member of Father's family.
As a result, I grow in the ability to lay aside Selfishness to touch the hearts of those who are hurting and to have my heart touched in return. The particular verse that has resounded like a bass drum in my heart these last few days is I Corinthians 13:5, "It does not insist on its own way." If that is not a shot at selfishness taken with pinpoint accuracy, well, I haven't a clue what is.
So, I have made it my goal to be intentional in relationships with others even to the point of doing things that do not necessarily represent my deepest felt loves in life, even some things that I do not enjoy in the least. All of this is an effort to obliterate, nullify, if you will, Selfishness.
The fact is, the further I remove myself from this Selfishness that plagues me, the closer I draw to my Father's arms. And that, my friend, is where I want to live this journey - safely ensconced in Papa's arms.
Monday, July 7, 2008
Wrong Way Down Right Street
We went for another bike ride today. I am just beyond excited that we are able to do this. Today we hit a little snag though. We came to an intersection, and for the life of me, I could not remember whether we were supposed to turn left or right. I'm not that familiar with the "construction detour route," so, we took a guess and turned right. About 1/4 mile later we realized we had gone the wrong way on Wright St.
We quickly turned around and got back on track. We made it to the park and had lots of fun!
Now, it won't take me long to draw the parallel for you in this particular scenario. We were on the right street, but we went the wrong way. At times, the same can be said of our walk with Jesus.
We start walking down the narrow way with Him when all of a sudden we turn around and realize that we are on the right path but somehow are going in the wrong direction. Take heart, a course correction is not the end of the world. Papa does not expect perfection, which is excellent news for us since we would fail miserably every time.
I would caution you, however, to learn from your mistake(s). If you do not acknowledge them and determine in your heart to improve, you are destined to repeat the same foolish decisions time and again. Father will let you walk around the same mountain as many times as required to facilitate the changes He knows are necessary in your life.
Father does not force His will upon us, but He does want to draw us closer in relationship to Him. Sometimes, that necessitates a little change in our lives. Personally, I am never happier than when I submit and surrender. It makes the journey more pleasurable all the way around!
We quickly turned around and got back on track. We made it to the park and had lots of fun!
Now, it won't take me long to draw the parallel for you in this particular scenario. We were on the right street, but we went the wrong way. At times, the same can be said of our walk with Jesus.
We start walking down the narrow way with Him when all of a sudden we turn around and realize that we are on the right path but somehow are going in the wrong direction. Take heart, a course correction is not the end of the world. Papa does not expect perfection, which is excellent news for us since we would fail miserably every time.I would caution you, however, to learn from your mistake(s). If you do not acknowledge them and determine in your heart to improve, you are destined to repeat the same foolish decisions time and again. Father will let you walk around the same mountain as many times as required to facilitate the changes He knows are necessary in your life.
Father does not force His will upon us, but He does want to draw us closer in relationship to Him. Sometimes, that necessitates a little change in our lives. Personally, I am never happier than when I submit and surrender. It makes the journey more pleasurable all the way around!
Sunday, July 6, 2008
Give 'Til It Stops Hurting
How much can $2 buy today? Well, without a coupon or a sale the answer is, not much. Where I live, it cannot buy a gallon of milk or a gallon of gas. It might buy a loaf of bread if you are lucky. Sometimes you can get a box of cereal for $2, but not often. The fact is that had you asked me when I woke up this morning how much $2 would buy, I would have said, "Next to nothing."
I ran into the grocery store to pick up a few things after our Sunday morning service. I was in a bit of a hurry - trying to get home to give my little one some lunch so she could get a nap before we head out for a special service this evening. We normally do not attend a Sunday evening service, but we are raising money for my husband to go on a missions trip to New Orleans next month. Following the special "concert" tonight we are having a bake sale to support that missions endeavor. In any case, I was in a hurry.
When I walked up to the register to check out, there was a young mother with two children. One was about my daughter's age - maybe a little older. The mother was fumbling through her change purse trying to count out enough money for her purchase. She seemed flustered and a bit embarrassed because she did not have enough money.
Now, let me say that I very rarely have any cash in my purse. I suppose I am a child of the digital age. Our funds are put into the bank via direct deposit, and plastic is our mode of currency. In this instance, I just happened to have a couple of dollars in my purse left over from parking money used last time we took my daughter to the doctor. I almost gave those two dollars in our benevolence offering this morning, but I was on stage with a guitar slung across my shoulder. So, I opted not to make a fuss about giving my two little dollars.
Back to the checkout line. I asked the cashier, "How much does she need?" The response was $1.73. I quickly pulled out my $2 and handed it to the cashier. She put the money in the register and tried to hand the change back to me. I told her to give it to the young woman. She smiled and thanked me, took her two little ones and left the store.
Now, ask me how much $2 can buy. I have no idea what it bought that young woman. I know it gave me the most wonderful feeling I have had in days. With Father's help it gave me the realization that no matter how little I have to give, it is more than enough in His hands. That $2 was not going to pay my electric bill. It would not have put gas in my car, but it gave someone else exactly what she needed when she needed it.
Isn't that how Papa works? He puts us all in situations where only His impeccable timing can account for the way events unfold. I believe that I needed to give that $2 even more than that woman needed to receive it. Sometimes it does us more good to make a sacrifice whether it be finances, time or otherwise than it does the person or people for whom we sacrifice.
You know I always laugh a little bit to myself when an offering is taken and the person in charge says, "Every dollar counts." Oh, I know it is true, but I also know that most of the time that same person is wondering how many $100, $500 or $1000 gifts are going to be given. When I worked outside the home, I used to love being able to be one of those people who could give $100 or more. Now, I no longer have the ability to do that. But I rediscovered today that Papa can do more with $2 than any investment banker I know.
So, next time you think you do not have enough to give, don't bet on it. Give when Papa provides the opportunity. Money is only one way we give, and even then, it's not worth much if it is not given in love. That's why I say, "Give 'till it stops hurting." You see, as soon as you allow Father to move upon your heart to give in the way He wants, it won't hurt at all. Besides, you never know what $2 will get you, even in today's economy!!
I ran into the grocery store to pick up a few things after our Sunday morning service. I was in a bit of a hurry - trying to get home to give my little one some lunch so she could get a nap before we head out for a special service this evening. We normally do not attend a Sunday evening service, but we are raising money for my husband to go on a missions trip to New Orleans next month. Following the special "concert" tonight we are having a bake sale to support that missions endeavor. In any case, I was in a hurry.
When I walked up to the register to check out, there was a young mother with two children. One was about my daughter's age - maybe a little older. The mother was fumbling through her change purse trying to count out enough money for her purchase. She seemed flustered and a bit embarrassed because she did not have enough money.
Now, let me say that I very rarely have any cash in my purse. I suppose I am a child of the digital age. Our funds are put into the bank via direct deposit, and plastic is our mode of currency. In this instance, I just happened to have a couple of dollars in my purse left over from parking money used last time we took my daughter to the doctor. I almost gave those two dollars in our benevolence offering this morning, but I was on stage with a guitar slung across my shoulder. So, I opted not to make a fuss about giving my two little dollars.
Back to the checkout line. I asked the cashier, "How much does she need?" The response was $1.73. I quickly pulled out my $2 and handed it to the cashier. She put the money in the register and tried to hand the change back to me. I told her to give it to the young woman. She smiled and thanked me, took her two little ones and left the store.
Now, ask me how much $2 can buy. I have no idea what it bought that young woman. I know it gave me the most wonderful feeling I have had in days. With Father's help it gave me the realization that no matter how little I have to give, it is more than enough in His hands. That $2 was not going to pay my electric bill. It would not have put gas in my car, but it gave someone else exactly what she needed when she needed it.
Isn't that how Papa works? He puts us all in situations where only His impeccable timing can account for the way events unfold. I believe that I needed to give that $2 even more than that woman needed to receive it. Sometimes it does us more good to make a sacrifice whether it be finances, time or otherwise than it does the person or people for whom we sacrifice.
You know I always laugh a little bit to myself when an offering is taken and the person in charge says, "Every dollar counts." Oh, I know it is true, but I also know that most of the time that same person is wondering how many $100, $500 or $1000 gifts are going to be given. When I worked outside the home, I used to love being able to be one of those people who could give $100 or more. Now, I no longer have the ability to do that. But I rediscovered today that Papa can do more with $2 than any investment banker I know.
So, next time you think you do not have enough to give, don't bet on it. Give when Papa provides the opportunity. Money is only one way we give, and even then, it's not worth much if it is not given in love. That's why I say, "Give 'till it stops hurting." You see, as soon as you allow Father to move upon your heart to give in the way He wants, it won't hurt at all. Besides, you never know what $2 will get you, even in today's economy!!
Friday, July 4, 2008
The High Price of Independence
Maybe it is just me, but I get a tear in my eye when I sing the Star Spangled Banner. I stand just a little taller when I say the Pledge of Allegiance. I count myself fortunate to live in these United States of America. Even with all of her faults, I still believe She is the best country in the world.I think sometimes we fail to realize how very fortunate we are as Americans. I know we neglect, even as we grill our hamburgers and enjoy our day off, to remember the immeasurable cost of this freedom we enjoy. Men and women gave their lives to free us, and men and women freely give their lives even today to maintain that independence.
So, on this Independence Day as I listen to the fireworks that celebrate our freedom, I would like to remember the brave men and women who have fought and died for me and for my family. I want to thank the members of our Armed Services who protect those freedoms at great cost to themselves and their loved ones. I want the mothers and fathers, the husbands and wives, the brothers and sisters, and the children of all those servicemen and women to know that we, your country, thank you for the sacrifices that you make for us. I appreciate you and all that you do. America would not be America were it not for men and women just like you.
On this day of freedom I pray that someday we will all enjoy the ultimate freedom offered to us through Christ Jesus as we celebrate our independence from the bondage of the enemy of our souls and worship together at the foot of our Father!
Happy Independence Day!
Thursday, July 3, 2008
Stubbornness . . . Or Is It Determination?
I have been accused of being a lot of things in my life. Believe it or not, when I was a naive 19 year-old trying to figure out how I was going to make it to Bible school, I was accused of sleeping with the pastor's son who was married and like 43 at the time - ew!! Of all the accusations that have been leveed against me in my lifetime, there is one that I cannot refute. I am stubborn.
I'll give you a "for instance." Since we are trying to be more frugal these days and one of the few things that we can control in the way of our expenditures is gas, we have invested in 2 bike trailers - one for our daughter and one for whatever else we may need to take with us. Now, the first thing you need to know is that we live right off a four lane highway, and in order to get anywhere you have to get on that highway. That being said, I have endured quite a bit of scrutiny over this little venture.
I have had people tell me that I am foolish for taking my daughter out in this trailer on that highway (we stick to the wide shoulder, mind you). We have been the recipients of more than a few dubious looks from those we've told. I would venture to say that most have doubted our ability to actually stick to this little plan of ours.
Well, if you want me to prove to you that I can do something, just express your disbelief in me. It gets my Irish-German blood boiling to think that people do not trust my judgment. One of the many valuable lessons I learned from my dad was how to think through all of the aspects of a situation before developing a resolution. Therefore, we did not enter into this plan lightly. In addition, to imply that I think so little of my child's safety as to put her in harm's way is ludicrous. After all, I am not one of those people who dangle babies out of windows or drive with them on my lap.
So, I am happy to say that we have taken two trips in our new mode of transportation - the most recent was today. Our first jaunt was a mere 11 miles round trip. Today's little adventure wound up being somewhere in the neighborhood of 15-16 miles round trip. It is not easy, but it is satisfying to prove my detractors wrong.
What does all this have to do with Father? I'm glad you asked. Sometimes Father asks us to make choices that to our human eyes seem nonsensical. In fact, there are times when we will make those tough decisions and still doubt ourselves in the midst of the journey. I can tell you that last mile today was one of those doubting times for me.
Instead of throwing in the towel and proving your critics right, endure to the end. Be stubborn, or as I like to refer to it - be determined! When you stand at the finish line of this particular race, you will not regret it.
I love the way that the writer of Hebrews puts it in Hebrews 12:1-3
PS - Before I go, I want to remind you about the Reader's Choice. It is your opportunity to choose some of the topics we discuss here. I look forward to hearing your thoughts and ideas!
I'll give you a "for instance." Since we are trying to be more frugal these days and one of the few things that we can control in the way of our expenditures is gas, we have invested in 2 bike trailers - one for our daughter and one for whatever else we may need to take with us. Now, the first thing you need to know is that we live right off a four lane highway, and in order to get anywhere you have to get on that highway. That being said, I have endured quite a bit of scrutiny over this little venture.
I have had people tell me that I am foolish for taking my daughter out in this trailer on that highway (we stick to the wide shoulder, mind you). We have been the recipients of more than a few dubious looks from those we've told. I would venture to say that most have doubted our ability to actually stick to this little plan of ours.
Well, if you want me to prove to you that I can do something, just express your disbelief in me. It gets my Irish-German blood boiling to think that people do not trust my judgment. One of the many valuable lessons I learned from my dad was how to think through all of the aspects of a situation before developing a resolution. Therefore, we did not enter into this plan lightly. In addition, to imply that I think so little of my child's safety as to put her in harm's way is ludicrous. After all, I am not one of those people who dangle babies out of windows or drive with them on my lap.
So, I am happy to say that we have taken two trips in our new mode of transportation - the most recent was today. Our first jaunt was a mere 11 miles round trip. Today's little adventure wound up being somewhere in the neighborhood of 15-16 miles round trip. It is not easy, but it is satisfying to prove my detractors wrong.
What does all this have to do with Father? I'm glad you asked. Sometimes Father asks us to make choices that to our human eyes seem nonsensical. In fact, there are times when we will make those tough decisions and still doubt ourselves in the midst of the journey. I can tell you that last mile today was one of those doubting times for me.
Instead of throwing in the towel and proving your critics right, endure to the end. Be stubborn, or as I like to refer to it - be determined! When you stand at the finish line of this particular race, you will not regret it.
I love the way that the writer of Hebrews puts it in Hebrews 12:1-3
1Therfore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, 2looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God. 3Consider him who endured from sinners such hostility against himself, so that you may not grow weary or fainthearted.Next time you find yourself defending a decision made after hearing the voice of God, take a lesson from Hebrews. Just run with endurance the race that Father set before you. Let Him deal with those who would scoff at your trust in Him. You will find that Father will not only change you but some of your critics in the process!
PS - Before I go, I want to remind you about the Reader's Choice. It is your opportunity to choose some of the topics we discuss here. I look forward to hearing your thoughts and ideas!
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Reader's Choice
I got a crazy idea this afternoon, and I thought I would share it with you. After all, I am pretty much queen of the crazy ideas lately. I wondered what would happen if I asked you, my readers, to tell me what you want to talk about.
Sometimes it's really easy for us to get bottled up in our own world and forget that other people are out there thinking deep thoughts too. I would like to discuss some of the things you are pondering. So, with that said, let's proceed.
I would like you to submit your topic ideas via the comments section of this post. You can either submit your own idea or second the idea that someone else has submitted. Then, I will blog some of your suggestions.
Now for the fine print . . .
Sometimes it's really easy for us to get bottled up in our own world and forget that other people are out there thinking deep thoughts too. I would like to discuss some of the things you are pondering. So, with that said, let's proceed.
I would like you to submit your topic ideas via the comments section of this post. You can either submit your own idea or second the idea that someone else has submitted. Then, I will blog some of your suggestions.
Now for the fine print . . .
1. Before you submit, please remember the title of this blog. We are "Sounding the Depths of God." I will not discuss off-topic suggestions - like "Hey, did you see that picture of Lindsay Lohan drinking a margarita?"So, let the suggestions begin. I'm psyched to see what you can come up with!
2. Please keep your suggestions/comments G-rated. I do monitor these, so if you use profanity or lascivious language, you won't see your suggestion listed. Sorry, but this is a family friendly site.
3. Have fun! Your suggestions do not necessarily have to be serious in nature. Everyone needs a little fun in his life.
Robbing Peter to Pay Paul
I seriously considered writing a post today, but I wasn't feeling very inspired. I think I just have too many thoughts running around in my head today, and it would take an inordinate amount of effort to capture and tame one of them into a post. So, what is this then, you're asking? I am going to point you in the direction of a few posts that I read today and enjoyed.
The first is on hope, and it just so happens that my husband wrote it. I almost always enjoy his writing (with the exception of a post with a zombie theme), but this post was particularly wonderful, and I expect that you will enjoy it too.
The second is of a political nature, which is not usually my vein but I just love what LaShawn has to say about Barack Obama. I am not a political blogger, but it does burn me up to watch Americans being led like lambs to the slaughter. I mean, seriously, the amount of experience BO has wouldn't qualify him to be hired as a mid-level manager in a privately owned company, but we're supposed to turn over the reins of our country to him. Wake up, people.
On a lighter note, my friend Laura over at Pursuing Holiness wrote a very humorous post this morning entitled "Lessons from mowing my lawn." Click over and have a chuckle.
In any case, I hope you will enjoy these posts as much as I did. Blessings!
The first is on hope, and it just so happens that my husband wrote it. I almost always enjoy his writing (with the exception of a post with a zombie theme), but this post was particularly wonderful, and I expect that you will enjoy it too.
The second is of a political nature, which is not usually my vein but I just love what LaShawn has to say about Barack Obama. I am not a political blogger, but it does burn me up to watch Americans being led like lambs to the slaughter. I mean, seriously, the amount of experience BO has wouldn't qualify him to be hired as a mid-level manager in a privately owned company, but we're supposed to turn over the reins of our country to him. Wake up, people.
On a lighter note, my friend Laura over at Pursuing Holiness wrote a very humorous post this morning entitled "Lessons from mowing my lawn." Click over and have a chuckle.
In any case, I hope you will enjoy these posts as much as I did. Blessings!
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
The Disappointment Death Knell
I had an experience recently that really left me befuddled. I had to disappoint a friend. I had a very good reason to do it - Papa would not let me pursue the endeavor in which my friend had asked my assistance. I know it seemed nonsensical to her because the ministry opportunity seemed like a perfect fit for me. However, I prayed about the project for 3 weeks, and Father would not give me permission.
How do you go about explaining to someone that yes, you feel called to lead worship, and yes, this seems like a tremendously perfect opportunity, but no, Father will not let you do it? It seems ridiculous, and when I heard myself trying to explain it, I'm sure I sounded insane.
Part of me just wanted to lead worship to avoid disappointing a friend, but the bigger part of me wants to be obedient and not walk the long way around that mountain again. I had previously turned down a paid opportunity to lead worship for the same reason - Papa said no. This one was harder though. This affected someone I care about on a very personal level.
The complicating factor in this situation is that my friendship with this person is relatively new. She is not necessarily privy to all of my past forays into bungling up God's will. I am praying that Papa will give her understanding, and I am also hoping to have an opportunity to share a little of my history to provide some context for my decision.
I suppose it all comes down to the fact that early in my ministry I was taught that if you do not hear a "no" from Papa, it must be alright to pursue that area of ministry. However, since then, I have walked enough miles on this journey to have learned that if I do not hear a "yes" then it means "no" until further notice. It means I cannot be a lazy listener any more and get the answers that fit my agenda. I have to listen attentively and intently so I can tune in to what He wants whether it meets my requirements or not.
Ultimately, I realize that I would have been robbing myself by saying yes to this ministry, but more importantly, I would have stolen the blessing from the person who is meant to undertake this responsibility and the people to whom he/she will be ministering. I also know that Papa is taking me through a difficult time of dying to my expectations and desires so I can more fully embrace His. And, no matter how much I care about someone, my Father has the final word on every subject.
This was His final word to me on this subject, and I will share it with you. Ephesians 5:15-17 says this:
How do you go about explaining to someone that yes, you feel called to lead worship, and yes, this seems like a tremendously perfect opportunity, but no, Father will not let you do it? It seems ridiculous, and when I heard myself trying to explain it, I'm sure I sounded insane.
Part of me just wanted to lead worship to avoid disappointing a friend, but the bigger part of me wants to be obedient and not walk the long way around that mountain again. I had previously turned down a paid opportunity to lead worship for the same reason - Papa said no. This one was harder though. This affected someone I care about on a very personal level.
The complicating factor in this situation is that my friendship with this person is relatively new. She is not necessarily privy to all of my past forays into bungling up God's will. I am praying that Papa will give her understanding, and I am also hoping to have an opportunity to share a little of my history to provide some context for my decision.
I suppose it all comes down to the fact that early in my ministry I was taught that if you do not hear a "no" from Papa, it must be alright to pursue that area of ministry. However, since then, I have walked enough miles on this journey to have learned that if I do not hear a "yes" then it means "no" until further notice. It means I cannot be a lazy listener any more and get the answers that fit my agenda. I have to listen attentively and intently so I can tune in to what He wants whether it meets my requirements or not.
Ultimately, I realize that I would have been robbing myself by saying yes to this ministry, but more importantly, I would have stolen the blessing from the person who is meant to undertake this responsibility and the people to whom he/she will be ministering. I also know that Papa is taking me through a difficult time of dying to my expectations and desires so I can more fully embrace His. And, no matter how much I care about someone, my Father has the final word on every subject.
This was His final word to me on this subject, and I will share it with you. Ephesians 5:15-17 says this:
15Look carefully then how you walk, not as unwise but as wise, 16making the best use of the time, because the days are evil. 17Therefore do not be foolish, but understand what the will of the Lord is.I know that Papa had me say no for a reason, and neither my friend nor I may understand completely at this point. However, I will continue to be obedient because that is being wise instead of unwise. I will try not to be foolish, and I will seek to know Papa's will for me in any given circumstance because that is how I can make best use of my time. And I know that when Father allows me to step out, that adventure will more than make up for any that I feel I have missed.
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