a big mess

This morning I made a big mess in my pantry:

I had stupidly been storing flour in a zipper storage bag. As you can see, my pantry is very deep so stuff tends to get lost back there. This gallon-sized bag of flour was one of those lost items. When I went to retrieve it, I pulled it out by the bottom (mistake #2) and behold the mess! This picture was taken after I pulled out more stuff that was in front of and under the mess. More was on the floor. 

I sent a picture to my friend who asked if the bag had exploded. It certainly did look that way. But no, I explained to her what happened and likened it to a slow leak. When I got to the back of the shelf, I realized that flour had probably been coming out of the bag for a while. But nobody noticed because it wasn't doing any real harm in the deep, dark back of the pantry. 

It wasn't too long before God started connecting the dots for me. 

Disclaimer: I don't like to use extended metaphors, but this one just screamed to be used. Bear with me, please. 

In my last post, I wrote about how my heart had been leaking junk for quite a while before I noticed any real problem. Since I started addressing the actual heart problem before God, He began pulling out items here and there. And when He finally got to the source of the leak and began the long process of pulling it out of the dark (which is far from over), I began grieving over the mess. 

I grieve because I know how these things go. When God chooses to use something to refine me, especially this particular issue, I know the process will be long and difficult. 

It took me about 30 minutes and a trip to Wally World to clean up the flour mess: 

I certainly felt a measure of victory over the disorganization, especially since I have had it on my "to do" list for some time. 

But I know God has depths of knowledge and insight to reveal to me on my real problems. And He won't do it in 30 minutes.

As much as I would like my emotional life to be nice and tidy like my pantry, or even more so, God is showing me that no part of our lives ever fit into airtight containers or tiny bins (yes, the metaphor is killing me too, but I can't help it!). And very few things are black and white, especially when it comes to such things as emotions and relationships. 

But I want desperately for certain things to fit in a box. I want definition. I want the straight path. 

God keeps reminding me that life isn't like that. We live in a fallen world where things are not as they should be. 

So, I'm starting the painful process of letting go of an ideal. I don't know where it will take me, and that's pretty much part of the package. But I do know that the Lord will be there with me, whispering truths to me when I call on Him or using the piercing sword of His word when I refuse to listen. And I know, as Job, that God "knows the way that I take; when he has tried me, I shall come out as gold" (Job 23:10). I can take this truth to the bank. 

I am thankful to have a Savior that left the Heavenly places for a while so that He could understand things like messes in the pantry and confusing emotions and broken relationships. I am thankful that His death made a way for me to climb up and pull on His ear.  

And I am thankful that He loves me through it all. 

memorial stones

In Joshua 3 God performs yet another miracle for the nation of Israel: He takes them into the promised land (after a grueling forty years in the desert) via the Jordan River. And since God is God, he didn't use a ferryboat to get them all across; he simply parted the waters so they could walk across on dry land. 

In the next chapter God commands them through Joshua to build a memorial out of stones so that "When your children ask their fathers in times to come, 'What do those stones mean?' then you shall let your children know, 'Israel passed over this Jordan on dry ground'" (v. 21-22). It got me thinking: when was the last time I built a memorial to the Lord? 

What do we use nowadays to commemorate the great things the Lord has done for us? I know many people who use their talents and gifts to worship the Lord or bring attention to him. But what about telling our stories? I think that God's intention in having the Israelites build that memorial was exactly what he said it was for: "your children." 

Picture this: a group of kids are out fishing one day to bring home dinner for the family. They go a bit further downstream than they normally do and pass by this huge pile of stones. They inspect it, poking and prodding each stone to see if it will topple over. The brave one climbs on top to show the others how easy it is and that there's nothing to be afraid of. A couple more clamber up, and they are amazed at their new-found play land. They day is quickly coming to an end, so they return home, fish in tow, telling Mom about this cool pile of stones (leaving out the part about climbing atop it) and asking Dad what the pile of stones was all about. Then the fathers and mothers and grandfathers and grandmothers know it is time. They take their children back out to the river and build a bonfire by the stones. So they sit with their children around them and tell the story of how God delivered them. (Note: this brings both worship and attention to the Lord while also honoring his goodness and mercy)

You see, the Lord does not want us to forget. He knew that the Israelites had already forgotten his mighty works and great mercy. He knows that we will do the same. 

No, maybe the problem is not that we literally forget what the Lord did for us back in the day. Maybe the problem is that we forget what it felt like after the deliverance. Have you forgotten the great relief, love, gratitude, joy, and humility you experienced when God delivered you from that impossible situation? Or when he saved your marriage? Or when he gave you that long sought-after gift? Or have you even forgotten what it felt like when Jesus saved you?

And it's no wonder that we forget those feelings. We get so bogged down with the day-to-day that we lose the passion. I do this all too often. Feelings are not intended to be permanent. This is why our relationships don't work well when we base them off of the emotion of the moment (can I get an Amen from a wife out there!). 

That's the reason for the memorial stones. We look upon the big pile of stones and recall the awe we felt when God did that amazing miracle. And in that moment we are able to tell our story with all the magnificence we felt as it first happened. The best part is that the story wasn't just about how God had parted the Jordan; it was also the stories carried over from their parents and grandparents of all that God had done for them in the desert as well as the hardships they'd endured. And I'm sure their stories would spill over into the recent past as they recounted how God had continued to show his greatness in their lives. Our God is an every day miracle worker. 

So maybe a pile of stones in your front yard isn't cool with your HOA. That's okay. We all have talents and creativity in us. Think of the most recent thing the Lord has done for you and get creative. My thing is writing (and you can see some of my memorial stones in the previous post). Remember, these stories are for our children and each other. Build your memorial to honor God's holy name and worship him. "Let everything that has breath praise the Lord!" (Psalm 150:6)

the father's forgiveness

So, I wrote this article titled "The Father's Forgiveness," and a website called Beautifully Rooted posted it today. It's the story of forgiveness between my dad and me. I hope that you are blessed through reading it and seek God's brand of forgiveness in your relationships. 

Beautifully Rooted

my cup of joy

I went out and bought myself a new travel coffee mug from Starbucks the other day. I have this old worn-out one and needed something new that will not only not leak coffee onto my shirt when I drink, but also something that would not easily knock over. I tend to be clumsy.

So, I selected a ceramic mug-like container with a handle. It's not a tall, slender model, but it has a low center of gravity so it will stay put even when I nudge it with my elbow. I also like it because of the little green siren on the front. She always looks so calm and happy. I feel pretty happy when I have my coffee, so I thought I'd name it my cup of joy.

Well, just that afternoon Satan tried to knock over my cup of joy. 

What happened was ultimately a trivial matter, but it left me feeling discouraged and looking only at how long this road ahead of us is. The funny thing is, I had just been telling my husband the day before how content and adjusted I felt. I'm finally in a place where I feel at ease with where we are. 

So, I was sitting there struck with this incident that was threatening my joy and peace. My emotional processing usually goes down this track: the immediate reaction, then the blaming, then the thoughts of "Why do I immediately go to the worst response? What is wrong with me? Shouldn't God's joy be in my heart all the time?" And then I feel guilty for not being a "Super Christian."

Sometimes it is me. Sometimes I am holding onto something that is blocking the Holy Spirit from working in my heart. Sometimes I just don't want to hear from God because I think I know what he's going to say and I don't want to hear it. 

But sometimes it's not me. I am still amazed at how quickly I forget that the Enemy wants to steal my joy and that it is one of his main objectives. He will do whatever it takes to hijack our attention from the Lord. 

Scripture tells us to always be aware of the devil for he "prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour" (1 Peter 5:8). That's some pretty vivid language! After Paul reminds us that we are battling "against the spiritual forces of evil," he tells us to "take up the whole armor of God, that you may be able to withstand the evil day..." (Ephesians 6:12-13). 

Once I realized what was going on, I stopped thinking and started talking. You see, Satan knows me well. He knows my weaknesses better than almost anyone and will push any button to get me going. But Jesus knows me better. Instead of exploiting my weaknesses, he heals them--pushes through them to show his strength. He is the only one who can do this, the only one who can heal me. 

I prayed aloud something like this: "God, I am feeling overwhelmed and afraid right now. I know these feelings are not from you, for your love casts out fear. God, you are truth. Satan, you have no power here. Lord, stop him from trying to make me believe these lies. You have overcome him and you have overcome the world. Stop my thoughts from going down the wrong path. Holy Spirit, focus my attention on you. Readjust my thinking." 

My favorite piece of the "armor of God" is the sword of the Spirit "which is the word of God" (Eph. 6:17). I just recited as much truth as I could remember and then kind of made a chant of it, saying it again and again until I could feel the Holy Spirit. I'm not sure that it translates here, but when you are in the moment of speaking truth against lies, the peace that replaces the fear is quite overwhelming. Truth is our best offensive weapon when we are being attacked. 

Now, I do want to say that I'm not sure I had a little devil whispering in my ear that night. I know that some of you might even be a little freaked out by my even mentioning this subject. But I did know that some lies that had been embedded in my heart long ago were springing back up and they needed to be dealt with. Speaking (and say it aloud!) truth into lies is always a good thing. 

Sometimes all we need to do is remember whose side we are fighting on. The spiritual battles we fight are tricky, and we need to be mindful of any tendency to allow our thoughts to wander down the wrong path (you know what your wrong path is). Remember that even Jesus spoke truth, or scripture, into lies when he was tempted by Satan (see Matthew 4:1-11). 

Remember the next time you are feeling fearful, angry, or tempted by something you know will cause you to sin that you can tell God about it. Remember that he helps us when we are in these weak spots. He is the one with the power to replace our fear with joy. 

blast zone

God likes to use lots of different things to wake us up to what his plans are. 

At times I feel like he is taking a chisel and delicately removing a piece that doesn't belong. Other times he uses a sledgehammer to knock off a large block. Lately he's been using heavy explosives on me, blasting away almost every part of me. Sometimes it feels like he wants there to be nothing left of me!


And that's exactly what he wants. 


A ridiculous series of events happened this past week between myself and my best friend. Once I actually picked up the phone to talk to her (NOT text) and then quieted my heart before the Lord, I realized that I was, for the most part, unfairly taking out my frustration over my circumstances out on my friend. God really blessed me with a friend like her who still loves me even when I act like a child. With a clear head, I was able to unravel the emotions and events of that week, seeing that the root of the problem was my pride and sense of control. 


Yeah, again. 


A week from today will mark one year since we moved out of our house. I just looked through some old posts, and it is abundantly clear that God has been trying to get me to let go of my need to be in control. In fact, it has been the overall theme of my spiritual walk this year. God keeps showing me secret pockets of control I have tried to hide from him. It's like a person on a diet who stashes Little Debbies in her underwear drawer and other unexpected places. (God knows where the Swiss Rolls are hidden!) But the Lord sees all of my secret hiding spots, and he knows when it's time to reveal the truth to me, the truth that he hates those parts of me and so should I. 




My friend Oswald Chambers wrote about sanctification in My Utmost: "Sanctification means being made one with Jesus so that the nature that controlled Him will control us" (Feb. 8). He later reminds us that "the Spirit of God will strip me down until there is nothing left but myself..." (July 22). He can say all these things because Jesus tells us in Luke 14:26 "If anyone comes to me and does not hate... his own life... he cannot be my disciple." 


I used to feel uncomfortable with these harsh words from our Lord. But now I know what he means. There are times when the truth of my heart is revealed to me and in that moment I am so disgusted with myself that it literally makes me sick. I know in these moments that I am a person in desperate need of a savior. 


It's not that God doesn't want me; actually it is quite the opposite. He wants me amplified, which is me filled with his light and love. That person cannot exist when she still clings to earthly things like her pride and sense of control. The moment I said Yes to Jesus, he started destroying those parts of me. This past year he has worked overtime! But the amazing thing, the reason I believe in his power is that I trust him more and more with the big things and the little things every day. Each time he removes an old lust, I am confirmed in my faith and trust in him. He shows me what he wants to take away, and I realize that I don't want it anyway. And that happens only because his truth is in my heart. 


Are you in the blast zone right now? If you are a follower of Jesus, be comforted! He is giving you the best gift there is: he is taking away your old heart and replacing it with his own. 

idol makers

God commands us in the Bible, way, way back in Exodus, to not make "a carved image" and to not bow down and worship idols, anything but God. An idol is anything that becomes for us an obsession. It takes our thoughts, our energies, our lusts. It can take all of us if we allow it. An idol is anything, physical or intangible, that takes our focus away from the Lord. 


I have dealt with idols before. The sneaky thing about idols is that they usually don't take the form of a "carved image." The idea of having an object that we worship is quite foreign to most Christians. But Christ, above all, wants our hearts. An idol is, therefore, most at home in our hearts.


And once we allow something to take just one ounce of control over our hearts, it can cause serious damage. It will affect our thoughts, then our speech, then our attitude, then our actions. An idol will consume you. 


I recently realized something I had allowed to become an idol in my heart, something that was taking my focus away from God's truth. Our little old house on Country Glen (the one we are currently leasing out) had begun consuming my thoughts. I was constantly thinking about improvements I wanted to make when we move back in. Our bedroom needed a makeover with some new paint and new arrangement of our furniture (which would also be new). I'd do something new with the little loft area, making a reading nook for Savannah. The dining room, kitchen and breakfast area will need a total overhaul--gutted, walls moved, floor removed. A serious renovation. And the backyard. Well, first it's gotta provide some protection from the heat. So we will need to build a structure covering the patio. And of course I'll have the time then to plant that garden I have always wanted. It will be the perfect oasis...


On and on and more intricately detailed than I care to go into my thoughts went. Now, you may be thinking, "What's the harm in dreaming? Isn't it good to have a goal, something to motivate you?" Certainly! And that is what trapped me. I had no idea that my well-intended thoughts and plans had actually taken root in something much more destructive. 


I allowed myself to plan and dream, thinking there was no harm in these thoughts. But they became obsessive. Once I was almost constantly thinking of what I no longer had, I began to feel hopeless and overwhelmed by our debt. When I thought of our house, I saw something we would never again be able to achieve: true home ownership. This is mine. I want it back. 


And the worst part was that my motivation no longer lay in getting out of debt; my single motivation was to get back into MY house. 


The truth is that God wants us to be free from our debt--our bondage to it--more than he wants us to be living in our house again. Working out our financial problems and freeing ourselves from this burden is having major impacts in our spiritual lives. Our marriage has gone through the wringer this year, but we are becoming closer and building a trust between each other we never previously had. We are learning to face our financial problems instead of neglecting them. We are accepting the fact that our money, possessions, and lives belong only to God. And we are reaching our personal "bottoms" and realizing that God is still all powerful and is able to be our strength when we want to give up. 


The house, while it is tangible, is not eternal. Where is my joy? Where is my hope? It is not in a building. God's goal is not to make me happy, but to make me holy. If I want what he wants for me, I will redirect my thoughts and my motivation. I will let him do what he wants to do in my life and give over the reigns of my heart. Lord, please take it again. 

changing our legacy

I’ve been thinking recently about the legacy we leave. This has been prompted by many things: our current financial condition, our daughter turning a year old, and a personal longing to be a more giving individual.

The past few weeks have brought on some financial “surprises” for us. The problem is that these things shouldn’t have been surprises; we should have not only expected them but already taken care of them—they have been a long time coming. After the last “surprise,” Chaz and I both hit our bottom. Interestingly though, we aren’t angry or consumed by fear; we are just overwhelmingly disappointed in ourselves (this is definitely growth for me). We have finally accepted our own disgustingly poor handling of our money, and we are ready to truly make the changes necessary for getting out of this awful hole of debt and insecurity.

I did shed some tears, though. But this time it was not about my fear of how we were going to pay for these things or anger at my poor husband. I cried because I thought of my sweet Savannah and what we are leaving to her. A legacy of financial distress is something I never, ever wanted to leave my child.

I grew up in financial distress—growing up in a single-parent home in which the only income is a disability check will do that to you. My mom did the best she could, but her stress always overflowed onto my brother and me. We both knew when bills were due and what we wouldn't be able to pay. We both knew not to ask for certain things. There were even a few times we went to the food pantry. I didn't know you could live on a budget or save money; to me, money was bad. I believe this is the main reason I’ve had such a difficult time taking responsibility for my own financial fate. In a twisted way, I believed ignoring the problems really would make them go away because I certainly was not capable of fixing them. What good financial decisions could a person with my family history possibly make?

Now I realize that this type of thinking is shrouded in lies and fear. It was a huge mistake on my part to buy into this mindset, and it has ruined my financial legacy thus far. However, God redeems the mess of our broken legacy and our mistakes, and I know that he is transforming Chaz’s and my thinking each day. He is enabling us to create a new legacy for our family.

I know this promise is true because God has already done it in my life. Last Sunday at church, I was reminded of this. Our church is currently doing a campaign to raise money so that we can expand our main building and build a permanent campus for a branch-out church location. The campaign is to last two years, and Chaz and I decided to commit a certain amount of money above our tithe to it. And we’re doing this because we want to, by the way.

Anyway, I was nervous about placing our commitment because it is a promise, and this is a challenging time for us to make financial promises. But at this point I am more concerned about a heart change. Paying our debt is definitely an obligation, but I no longer see it as a burden. It has become for us an opportunity to grow in the way we handle our finances and in the way we trust God to provide. I feel confident that as God has been changing my perception of paying off our debt, he will also change my perception on giving.

As the service closed last Sunday, we sang a song called “The Stand.” For me, this song holds special meaning. I sang this song to God about five years ago, telling him that I would give up my own failed attempts to forgive my dad. I was tired of lost attempts to change my own heart and finally realized that God was the only one who could fix me. So, as the song goes, I promised God that I would do what he wanted me to do for "all I am is Yours.” God fulfilled his promise to me, enabling me to forgive my dad and to love him no matter what it cost me.

God made it possible for me to break a cycle of unforgiveness that has tainted my family for generations. I knew that when I forgave my dad, I was creating a new legacy for my family. What a precious example of God’s love and ability to redeem!

So, that song reminded me how God has transformed my once hardened heart. It was a promise and personal guarantee that he will do it again. He will show Chaz and me how to create a new legacy of financial responsibility and overflowing generosity because we trust him.

And because he loves us. 

finally! a new post :)

Well, it's been a while since I've written, so pardon me while I work out the kinks :)


We have turned a corner as a family this past week--Chaz got a new job! Praise the Lord! He's been waiting for this job to come through since January, and lots of people have helped us in prayer. It is so good to see the waiting finally be rewarded! Not only is he getting a pay increase, but he's also finished every day at 5:30 and has the weekends off! I am most grateful for the time he'll get at home. Also, now we should be able to get back on track and make our plan of getting out of debt become more and more possible. 


However, the past few months have been so difficult, and the financial strain brought out an ugly, selfish person that I thought was long gone. It's more clear to me now how much work it takes to cling to Jesus and focus on loving your husband during difficult times. 


It's true that hard times bring on a more earnest walk with the Lord. But I was also reminded of the ongoing spiritual battle in my head. There were times I caved to the negative thoughts directed toward our situation and mostly toward Chaz. I felt pitiful and weak as I allowed my selfish tantrum to go on and especially terrible when I didn't do anything to stop it. I pouted, cried, and screamed. I blamed. And when I was done, I slunk to Jesus and begged forgiveness. Each time I did this (yes, there was more than just one time) he showed me a bit of his perspective, specifically on my husband. 


The last tantrum I had was thankfully short. By that time I had figured out that I needed two things: prayer and someone to pray for me. There is something about it that just lifts the burden from my heart. The timing was also perfect because we had church that night and it was the Wednesday before Easter, which at our church is always an awesome time of worship. Pretty much from the moment I unclenched my jaw enough to start singing, Jesus convicted me. 


He painted a very clear portrait of the love I was withholding from my husband. My actions, words, and attitude over the past few months had been all but loving. He showed me that desperately selfish part of myself that is only willing to love if my standards are met. I hadn't seen that part of me in a while, and I was sad that it still existed. But Jesus doesn't only convict--he forgives and cleanses. I got some of that as well. 


I wanted to share this because I want you do two things. First, recognize the spiritual battle going on. Sometimes it is obvious but most of the time the Enemy will launch a grenade that you don't see coming, usually from your past. Something you thought was long gone. "Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour" (1 Peter 5:9). Don't let this thing overpower you! Enlist forces to help you. 


Make sure you have someone with whom to confess your battles. It should be a person that will always speak to you in truth and not egg you on--someone who gives you a mirror, not a sword. "...confess your sins to one another and pray for one another... the prayer of a righteous person has great power as it is working" (James 5:16). 


I think there is always a little part of our "former selves" still in us, even as redeemed believers. There will be until we are made perfect before the Lord. Remember that God will use this part of us to change us and make us more like himself. More than anything God wants us to come to him to be renewed. 

new job

I’ve been thinking for a while about the subject of work and my attitude in it. I kept rewriting this post until it finally clicked with me today what God wants me to understand and probably has wanted me to understand for some time now. At first I thought this post would be more exclusively for stay-at-home moms, but I now realize it is for all of us who work and who desire our work to bring glory to the Lord. I hope you will find something new to ponder as you read.

My understanding of work has always stemmed from the jobs I’ve had. I have worked almost 100% consistently from age 15 at various jobs--retail, restaurants, odd jobs on my college campus, and then my short-lived but rigorous career as a teacher. For me, work was always task-driven, and I viewed each job through tasks that I needed to accomplish. Then I became a stay-at-home mom and everything changed. I can vividly remember rocking with Savannah as a newborn and in my postpartum haze thinking "Is this it? Is this what my life is going to be about now?" 

I know now that a mixture of pain meds, lack of sleep, and jacked up hormones really played into that thinking, but the concept lingered way past the postpartum stage. All I could envision was the menial tasks of diaper changing, picking up the house, washing dishes and laundry, grocery shopping, and then starting the cycle anew each day. So my new job was still task-driven, but it wasn’t enough for me anymore. And then I would envision this idyllic mother and wife who took joy in each task and poured her heart into it all. I saw a woman that I would never live up to.

I am finally accepting that my decision to stay home was not a decision to sign-off from a "real" job for a time; this is my new job, and it is exposing character flaws that I used to hide with a long to-do list from my old career as a teacher. There was always something to be done, and the faster I got it done the faster I could move on to the next thing. I see now that as I began to treat each task as an assignment, I lost track of those to whom I was assigned—my students, those I was called by God to instruct and serve. At that time, I was not strong enough to pull myself out of the drudgery, and I did not truly seek God’s help in restoring my perspective. I was in a mire of quicksand and sinking fast with no willpower to reach for the rope I was offered. I wanted to give so much more of myself to my students, but I was never able.

If I am not careful I will lose myself again in the drudgery of menial tasks and forget that the only thing that stands in the way of my new job becoming the same to me as my old job is my willingness to let Christ renew my mind and attitude daily.

A couple of recent devotions from My Utmost caught my attention in this area. The first was about serving, and as I read I felt a stirring in my heart. It was an actual physical feeling, not just emotional, and I knew God was speaking. "Here" is all I sensed, and as I continued to read I looked at the words in light of my service in my home: "Are you ready to be less than a mere drop in the bucket--to be so totally insignificant that no one remembers you even if they think of those you served? Are you willing to give and be poured out until you are used up and exhausted--not seeking to be ministered to, but to minister?" (Chambers Feb. 5). I’d like to think that I am capable of this type of service, but as I chewed on this idea I would only despair and think “How in the world can anyone do that? I’m just not cut out for it. My heart is not big enough.”

Today’s devotion helped things click. Chambers writes about Christ’s example of servant-hood when he washes the feet of his disciples in John 13. Chambers writes, “In some cases the way a person does a task makes that work sanctified and holy forever. It may be a very common everyday task, but after we have seen it done, it becomes different. When the Lord does something through us, He always transforms it” (Feb. 19). God showed me what I have been seeking. I want to find in this job what I never found in my old job—how those tiresome, everyday tasks become transformed into joyous acts of service. It’s a sort of theme that you see few people live by, but it forever impresses you when you see it. You know something is different in that person. You know that their driving force, their inspiration is something you want.

As I searched the scriptures for references to “servant,” I found that the act of service is always tied to love. 1 Peter 4:10 implies that giving of ourselves does not come naturally: “As each has received a gift, use it to serve one another, as good stewards of God’s varied grace… whoever serves, as one who serves by the strength that God supplies.” In this passage Paul is specifically writing about spiritual gifts which only come from God, but I think that any act of service must be done with God’s help if we are to do it to his glory. The Proverbs 31 wife, the seemingly unreachable pinnacle of womanhood, “works with willing hands” (Prov. 31:13). It is clear throughout scripture that if we are to make our clenched, unwilling hands willing, we must rely on the power of Christ’s redemption to transform them. Will I allow the Holy Spirit to transform my daily tasks into acts of love? Will I let him impart to me a sense of duty that is not driven by mere obligation but by a desire to serve?

None of what I am hoping to learn is easy. Jesus told us that the way is narrow. But we are made able through Him. Each small task of service to another is witness to Christ’s transforming love in our lives. Lord, make our hearts big enough. Burn this love into our hearts and allow it to move through us as we live each day to serve you. 

managing money and love

I realize the title of this post might offend some--specifically the young in love. How could one possibly manage love or equate the management of money with love? Well, I will try to explain my meaning with, of course, another real-life example. 


Times have been hard and lean in the Williams' household as most of you know. Since we moved out of our house, we have made some very small strides in paying down our debt, but we still haven't quite figured out this whole idea of managing our money. It is yet unfamiliar territory, and the Lord had to pull out the big guns to show us what this is all about. Christmastime is usually a stressful financial season for many, and we were not spared that stress this year. It hit us hard--specifically traveling back home. That trip is always expensive. But that was expected; there were some curve balls thrown our way these past couple months. 


Out of a sense of decorum, I will not hash out all the details over our biggest money-fight to date. And Chaz and I don't fight--we have discussions. Feelings were bruised on both sides--I was hurt by some things he did and in my anger lashed back with some of the most hurtful words I have ever spoken to my spouse. He left feeling deeply wounded while I felt vindicated, at least until I talked to Jesus about it. 


I had every intention of confronting Chaz about my hurt feelings in a controlled and loving way. He did need to hear what I had to say. I asked a wise friend how to confront him and read from Omartian's The Power of a Praying Wife about how to confront my husband in a loving spirit before we actually sat down to talk. But in the heat of the moment I lost it; and as I allowed the flesh to take over, I also lost some of the great things I have worked on building up in my marriage. 


Now, I know nothing is beyond repair. We have already made-up. But I want to write to you about seeing our marriage from that ground zero-ish perspective. There are some things in life I regret. I wish that I hadn't had to learn those lessons from coming out of a mistake, but that's just the way life is. So in my post-fight silence I talked to Jesus--more like sat before him until the anger went away. Then he showed me some things about my marriage and my attitude toward my husband that I had been talking about doing but had not truly done. He showed me that our financial issues are a fog masking small cracks in our marriage. I now know a bigger reason why the Lord called me to quit my job and stay at home with my family: the financial strain being put on us is revealing the small cracks in the foundation. 


In a marriage you cannot always meet each other's needs. Sometimes you try your best and still fail. I think financial problems are listed as the number one cause for divorce in our nation because you have two people heaping their expectations onto one another as well as themselves, and in those mountains of unmet expectations one can no longer see the bottom. It becomes too much to dig up, and so each leaves feeling empty. 


I know Chaz and I have probably not seen the worst of our financial problems. But I do pray that as we set our goals together and continue to look to how God wants us to live we will keep in mind some important lessons that I hope you keep in mind as well:


1. Money (or the lack thereof) is not the issue. What expectations am I heaping onto my husband? Are they reasonable? Can I adjust them in some way? What do I need to give to the Lord instead of demanding it of my husband?


2. I am called to love and respect my husband. Even though my anger may have been justified (I think), I still need to spend MUCH time before the Lord speaking to Him about my anger BEFORE I go to my husband so that the Lord can "temper [my words] with His Spirit" (Omartian 35). For "when we live by the power of God rather than our flesh, we don't have to strive for power with our words. 'For the kingdom of God is not in word but in power' (1 Corinthians 4:20)" (Omartian 36). Don't you find that when you go before the Lord he tempers, or softens, your heart? Sometimes as wives we don't want to be softened before going to our husbands but toughened, as if a man would more readily respect that hardness. But you know these kinds of words only create further strife. God's way is narrow and difficult because he calls us to do the opposite of what we desire. He will reveal to you things you couldn't know about your relationship with a hardened, angry heart, and he will show you how to speak in love and respect. 


3. These times of hardship are here for a reason. While we did get ourselves into this predicament, God does not waste a challenging season of life. His will is simply that we will know him more. He always chooses to reveal himself to us. Will we choose to look to him, not asking him to fix our mess, but to show us more of himself? 


As I wrote earlier, nothing is beyond repair. Please know, however, that we are neither in dire straits nor is our marriage on the brink of collapse! I just tend to think really deeply about this sort of stuff. Pray with us that we won't just "tough out" these hard times but that we will live them and remember always to look to our God who is "making all things new." 

broken pieces

I was just reading over a recent post I wrote called "Daddy's girl" in which I wrote about my relationship with my dad. I needed to revisit the perspective of hope out of which came that post because after this weekend I needed a refreshment. 


I have never been around my dad during a manic episode, at least not to my recollection. I've spoken to him many times on the phone and know all the tell-tale signs but being around him this weekend really punched me in the gut. Since he was on his medication, he really wasn't that bad--not as bad as he can get without meds (this "bad" is the kind of impulsive and reckless behavior that has landed him in jail). But it was still difficult seeing him from this perspective. My husband described it perfectly when he said that he was like a 60-year-old man with ADHD, if you can imagine it. He talked almost incessantly, shared things he would never utter when not manic, and flew from one task to the next without really spending much quality time with me. But he was almost glued to Savannah, which was wonderful to see. He didn't have much of that "natural touch," but he fawned over her like any proud grandpa would do. 


I'm supposing that none of that really sounds so bad, but I guess it's just that I realized once again that I won't ever have the type of relationship with my dad that I crave. When I see him in his "normal" moments (a low-grade depression as he once told me) and his manic moments, I know that I'm not getting the full picture. I don't know if I will ever know the man he truly is without the mental illness. I keep telling myself that we will have that relationship in which we can have deep and involved conversations and a true trust between one another. That we will have a relationship in which we can understand one another's sense of humor and just call each other to see how the day is going. That I could buy him a little present and really know that he will like it because I know what he likes and dislikes. I want all those little things and all the big things that make any relationship good, but I'm figuring out that this may never be possible. It is yet just another painful realization in the life of my relationship with my dad. I'm really trying to focus on the positive, but for now all I feel is disappointment. 


But an important point I've been missing is that he has this mental illness. As much as I wish it weren't so, this is a part of him. God could take it away, but  God has allowed this to happen to my dad for reasons that I can never know. I want my dad without this thing that clouds his mind, but I have to accept that I'm never going to get that. I have to accept him as he is and allow God to show me how to enjoy the relationship we do have. Truly I am blessed to even have this. 


When my mom died, I felt sort of orphaned since I could not rely on my dad at the time for much of anything. This feeling is creeping back in now, the feeling that I don't have those roots in my parents that I think I need. I can complain to God about the unfairness of it all--about how the relationship with my dad is unsatisfactory and how I can't have my mom anymore; but when I am left with the truth and the pieces I do have, what will I choose to build with them?


I believe with all my heart that God is making something beautiful out of this relationship, and I have seen small signs already, but I want to see the final product--what God sees when he looks upon the work of art he will create out of these broken pieces. When I ask him to show me, though, he will not. He will not show me because he wants me to trust him with it. He knows that my artistic abilities are lacking but that his are perfect. When he looks upon the mess of my past--the wreckage of my parent's divorce, the scarred mind of my father, the death of my mom and the hole she has left in my heart--He sees the beautiful masterpiece that He can and will make if I will choose to give him all the pieces. You'd think I would have learned by now that I am a clumsy, foolish mess when it comes to repairing my broken heart. 


I do believe that this is the most revealing I've been in my posts, but I just couldn't not write it. We all have broken pieces from our pasts and our presents. I pray that when you look at your pieces you will not strain and fret over how to make them look pretty or how you can hide them under the rug. I pray you will do the hard thing with me. Let us live every day to please our Lord. Let us allow him to deal with the pieces completely. He so desires to make all of this brokenness new. 

leave it

Lately, I have been thinking a lot about prayer. I have always thought highly of the so-called "prayer warriors" and think often of the life of prayer, the life that lives inside the prayers that our Lord hears.


My Utmost for His Highest by Oswald Chambers is my favorite devotion. I keep going back to it year after year. If you've never read it consistently, I highly recommend it for its concise yet thought-provoking messages each day. The past few days the devotions have been about prayer, so I wanted to share my thoughts on what Chambers wrote. He begins by writing on our circumstances and how they are not by chance but that "God brings you to places, among people, and into certain conditions to accomplish a definite purpose through the intercession of the Spirit in you." He goes on to write, "Your part in intercessory prayer is not to agonize over how to intercede, but to use the everyday circumstances and people God puts around you by His providence to bring them before His throne, and to allow the Spirit in you the opportunity to intercede for them" (November 7). I have been in this agonizing situation many, many times. I not only agonize over how I should act physically, but also over how I should pray and what I should pray for.


While God is uncannily complex and our comprehension of him is minuscule, his directives for us are always simple. The Lord has been dealing with me lately about my heart toward my husband. I catch myself agonizing over how I should pray for him or how I should act on his behalf or what I should say or do to get him to do something I want. Usually my desires are good things, Godly things, but the way in which I want these things to be accomplished is selfish and manipulative, namely because it is my way of making it happen. It is possible sometimes to manipulate other people, but it is not possible to manipulate God. 


So, when I think about how I try to manipulate my husband (really, we all do it), I think this haunting question: What kind of wife am I? Negative phrases pop into my mind: nagging, takes control too much (making a budget without consulting him), bothered by silly, unimportant things (bottle incident from two posts ago), doesn't see my husband for who he is now as opposed to who I want him to be. Obviously this last thing is the most dangerous. My greatest flaw is that I hold many people in my life to impossibly high standards, including myself. Now, the Lord has done MUCH in my life to heal me of this behavior, but at times I do still struggle with it. We hurt the ones we love the most, right? So for me that would be Chaz. He gets the brunt of bad moods and the leftovers of my sinful behavior. He really does see all the nasty stuff about me, which makes me grateful that he still chooses to love me. 


The Lord had to take me down a notch this past week (and don't we all love it when that happens?). I had been brandishing my sword of self-righteousness atop my horse named Pride when a Godly woman showed me where I had strayed in my thinking on a certain issue regarding my husband. There are too many times that I believe I have the right answer for the ones I love. I know what God wants to do for them (Yes, it's okay to point and gasp at the crazy woman). You see, I have to be reminded that I am not the arbiter of right and wrong or the dispenser of God's word for others. I am not. He is. 


If I believe, truly believe, that God's vision for my loved ones and for myself is good, then I will trust him to make things happen--and these are not necessarily the things I want but what God wants. I will bring my concerns to him, lay them at the cross, and take comfort in knowing that "the Spirit himself makes intercession for [me] with groanings which cannot be uttered" (Romans 8:26). If I can keep my mind clear of that sin which so dominates my thought life, the sin of control, then I can rest in the knowledge that my God just has it. He has the people and the circumstances that I don't. When I give up my death-grip to him, he can free my hands to acts of love and service toward others, including my husband. When my grip is loosened, my heart is free to love without the boundaries I put up--the Holy Spirit acting through me. And it is really just about love, isn't it?


If there is anything you take away from this post, I hope that you ask God who or what you are keeping under a death-grip. Who is it that the Lord is calling you to release into his care? Who is it that you could love so much more freely if the worry over your relationship was gone? What amazing leap of faith could the Lord call you to take if your heart was no longer anxious over a certain situation? Remind yourself that God has it, so leave it with him. 

temptation

Not too long ago I spoke with a friend about temptation. She was sorely disappointed in herself because she was yet again at a place where she was wrestling with the same thing she had always wrestled with. I could hear the defeat in her voice when she said, "I thought I had conquered this but here I am again." It stuck with me because I have been there, too. 


It is so hard because a false belief that floats around in the Christian community is that Christians have it all together. Even when we know that we are not perfect and never can be, we still try to make ourselves fit into that box of perfection. We are so thankful that Christ died for us and made us right before God, but we still think that we owe him one and ought to not mess up anymore. I really believe every Christian thinks that way sometimes. 


And indeed we ought not try to sin anymore and should seek Christ and his righteousness. But I'm talking about giving ourselves a bit of grace in times of temptation. When we get to that place of "Oh, here I am again--that means I must not have grown at all and I've learned nothing" I think we need to take a little heart check. 


Doesn't the simple fact that you realize you are in "that place" again mean that you have grown? Previously, wouldn't you have just fallen into the old pattern of sin and not given it a second thought? Stopping just short of committing an old sin and wrestling against the temptation speaks volumes on how much a person has grown in their faith. 


And in the case of my friend--she called me to talk about it. I pointed out to her that calling on a fellow Christian in a time of temptation is a huge sign of her growth. She called me and not another friend, a friend that would not understand her struggle and just advise her to follow her desires with a tagline of "What's the big deal?" The ability to recognize your need to share a struggle with someone who can hold you accountable is another sign of growth. 


Finally, keep in mind that this entire line of thinking puts us at the helm of our spiritual growth instead of Christ. The idea that "I thought I had conquered this" is dangerous ground because it makes me the one who can defeat sin when I have no ability to do so. Put your trust in the fact that Christ has justified you and is continuing to work out something amazing in you so that he can present you as "holy and blameless" before God (Colossians 1:22). 


Let's stop this pattern of beating ourselves up each time we are tempted with "that old sin." Satan knows our weaknesses, and while we still live in this world we will have to face them. Remind yourself that "while we were still sinners, Christ died for us" (Romans 5:8). So, now that we have faith in Christ remember that "if while we were enemies we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son, much more, now that we are reconciled, we shall be saved by His life" (Romans 5:10). If Christ saved you while you were still a sinner, doesn't his grace cover you even more now that you have been justified by his blood? Doesn't that grace cover you in times of temptation? Doesn't he give you the grace to overcome the temptation? Know that he does and remind yourself that your sanctification is not in the past but is an active, living, present condition. 

small moments

Enjoy the following inner dialogue I had with myself the other day as I was emptying the dishwasher: "Oh my gosh, I can't believe Chaz didn't put the bottles in this thing right. It's freakin' easy! Nipples on the top part, all the other little things in the bottom. How is it all supposed to get clean this way? Is he dumb? Seriously, this is ridiculous! (*Bang, bang* as I throw the empty plastic thing in the sink) Why can't he just pay attention! He doesn't even listen. Liiiiiiiiiiiiifffffffffffeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!"


Oh, woe is me! To have a husband who does not properly load the dishwasher is the saddest part of any married woman's life... right? Hmmmm... maybe I'm being a bit melodramatic.


I hardly ever write anything about my marriage, and I realized it's because it has not been prominent in my mind lately. Except, of course, for the improperly loaded dishwasher, the work clothes strewn on the bedroom floor, and the beer bottle cap left on the end table. It's pretty bad that these small, momentary inconveniences are what dominate my mind these days when it comes to my husband. 


Recently, our pastors at Clear Creek Community Church led a series of messages about being peacemakers in our relationships. The senior pastor, Bruce Wesley, spoke about being peacemakers in our marriages and how many of us get to a place where we tend to make "negative assumptions." For me, this translated into my above inner dialogue in which I negatively concluded that since my husband did not properly load the bottles then he never listens to me. Now to a normal person, that would sound like crazy talk, which is why I provided the entire "rationalization" for you sane people. But I really do think that everybody gets to a point in their marriage when they become a little bit crazy. Trust me, if it hasn't come already just wait. 


But when I take a moment to stop my crazy inner ramblings and listen to myself, I realize three things:
1. I am being selfish. My silly need to have a neatly ordered dishwasher (like I would load it) was not met, therefore my husband must suffer through a verbal lashing (which will come soon after he gets home from work). 


2. This is silly and petty. If this is truly the biggest thing I have to complain about in my marriage, then what is wrong with me? If I have to search for things to engender anger toward my husband, then I must be pretty messed up. 


3. How does God see my selfish and petty whining? Wouldn't he tell me to move toward my husband in love and kindness? That the fruit of the Spirit is "love... patience, kindness... gentleness, self-control" (Galatians 5:22). That I lacked each of these in abundance while my mind lingered over the clean dishes that my husband so lovingly placed in the dishwasher the night before so I could take a shower and get to bed at a decent hour. 


We all get to a place in our marriages when the moments of ingratitude outweigh the moments of thankfulness. Where is your heart today? Are there moments that could be overlooked so that you could focus more on the good and loving things your spouse does for you, your children, or your home? I know that for me there are more than enough of these moments, and I am trying to focus my thoughts in that direction--to love my husband in the small, treasured moments of the day. Like last night while I was out grocery shopping, Chaz cleaned the kitchen and ran the dishwasher after cooking some mean cheeseburgers for dinner. He is a wonderful husband and father. Thank you, Chaz. I love you!

Daddy's girl

I figured that it's about time to write about something very important that's been going on in my life for the past few weeks. Some of you have been with me through this journey for several years now and others haven't a clue, so I'm going to give a quick catch-me-up. 


I've never had the greatest relationship with my dad. Yeah, I'm one of those scarred girls with "Daddy issues" (and my dear Chaz married me anyway!). My parents divorced when I was seven and my dad moved several states away. I was ten the first time I heard my dad was in jail and it only continued happening until just a couple years ago. He is bi-polar, or manic-depressive, and when his mania gets to its height he makes terrible decisions that usually end with him in jail and then prison. The pattern has always been the same. 


At one time, I was very bitter toward him--for leaving us, for being "crazy," and for being in prison. I was also embarrassed of having a dad with these sorts of problems and only told the very closest of friends about him. But God began pursuing me with thoughts of forgiveness early in my college years. It was only after many years of trying to forgive him on my own that I allowed Christ to show me what true forgiveness looked like. That happened a few years ago, and my dad and I have been maneuvering this strange new territory of getting to know one another ever since. 


A few weeks ago during a phone conversation, I noticed that my dad was very manic. I could tell by his speech patterns and the subject matter. After getting off the phone with him I called my brother to discuss what I could do. He and my husband both suggested that I just tell my dad what I thought. So I called him back and told him that I thought he was very manic. He said his sister had also noticed and he was very thankful that I told him. Through an odd series of events he ended up in the hospital and realized that this was the safest place for him, where he could not be a danger to himself or others. Unfortunately, he left only a few days later, got himself into a bit of a mess, and then checked himself back in. 


Last week, he told me that the doctor advised that he stay for another two to three weeks while they adjust his meds and monitor him. But he ended up talking his way out a few days later. I called on Saturday to check in with him and it was quite obvious that he was still very manic. I called my aunt to discuss this with her and she gave me some great perspective. In only a few years I have gone from becoming very angry with my dad when he became manic--so angry that I would not return his phone calls--to caring enough to seek any help that I could give him. While some say I am "strong" because of this, I respond that it is only because God gave me the grace to be able to extend grace. But sometimes my control-seeking nature tries to take over again. My aunt helped me realize that the only thing I can do is pray for him and love him. For some reason I apologized, probably out of disappointment. "Don't apologize for trying to love your dad," she said. It was the first time I acknowledged how much I do love him in a while. 


So, with fear of what he would say and the probability that he would not listen to me, I called to tell him again that he was very manic and needed to go back to the hospital. He promised that he would and that afternoon checked himself back in. He has never done this before and realizes that he may not be able to control when the mania kicks in or how long it lasts, but he can do this one thing to make sure that he is safe. He acknowledged that he could have spared  our family so much heartache if he had only realized this twenty years ago. He even admitted that he and my mom may have not even divorced had he been this proactive all those years ago. For the first time in my life I heard him cry with sincere regret over all that he has lost. All I could do was tell him I love him. 


I believe sincerely that it is a miracle he is even alive today. God is working out something truly extraordinary in his life, in mine, and in the life of our family. He is "making all things new" (Rev.21:5). I would never trade my dad or  the life I have had because of him. Through all of this, God has consistently shown himself to me and has granted me with the humility to see myself as I truly am--a girl desperately in need of not just a father but the Father. 

my future self

I have a picture in my mind of my future self. She is rising up from her garden, dusting the earth from her hands. The wind blows through her hair as she listens to her children playing happily nearby and surveys her land in a quiet moment of calm contentedness, reflecting on a day that was once again devoted to the Lord.


Umm... today, please?


I've had a vision of myself living this sort of life and, more importantly, living that calm contentedness. Yes, that last part is what intrigues me the most from that picture. However, I always want what I don't have and always look for the next "thing" in life that will make me happy and content. And once I get that thing, the vicious cycle continues.


As a Christian, I must make sure that while I look for the next thing in my life, I look to seek what God wants for me. More importantly, I shouldn't focus so much on what he has in store for me but just on him alone. After all, isn't he alone the source of this calm contentedness I desire?


In the devotional My Utmost for His Highest, Oswald Chambers writes about having the vision of what God wants us to be while living in the reality of what we are today: "There are times when we do know what God's purpose is; whether we will let the vision be turned into actual character depends on us, not on God." When we see our future self we always want it immediately. I know I want it now because he forms character in me through trials. Chambers goes on to write that we must live "the realities of our lives in the light of the vision until the truth of the vision is actually realized in us" (Oct. 4). At one point in my life I thought that meant pretending to be who I saw so that it would one day magically happen--God would say, "Yes, you figured it out!" and he would throw a switch that would transform me into this new and improved version of me. 


However, God never rewards us for acting. I think what Chambers actually means is that we ought to thank God for showing us what he is forming in us. And although we are not quite there yet, trust that he is, each day, making us new.  Our part is simple but difficult: allowing him to mold us. It's not about working toward becoming that person because when we do that it is all about what we can accomplish, not what God can accomplish. 


I am a living testament that this is much easier said than done. Just look at my life over the past few months. God shifted my focus to what was lacking by showing me how much we had but didn't need. Now he is enabling me to become content, if not happy, with less. As my life becomes simpler, I enjoy each day more, learning with small steps how to savor what God is forming in me today. On the days I loosen my grip on the intangible things over which I once forced my control, I see the peaceful and content heart I long for. For the first time, I am realizing that when Christ told his disciples, "follow me" it was more a directive for the heart than the body. 


When I look ahead to my future self, I see that she and I have much more in common than I once believed. 

discontent

For those of you with children (and, yeah, the rest of y'all can relate as well)...


Savannah was fussing the other day. After several attempts to soothe her, I had placed her in the swing. She's started this new thing where she purses her lips and makes a grunting noise when she is tired. So she was doing that and just acting overall miserable. It was then that it dawned on me to finally try the one thing that always works. 


It's funny how as parents we can get so lost in the day that we forget the things that our children respond to. It hit me as a smack on the forehead (duh!) when I finally wrapped her up tightly in a light blanket, gave her her teddy, and rocked her while held securely in my arms. 


It's the same way with us, of course. Sometimes at our most discontent we complain, groan, yell, pout, throw dishes--choose your flavor or even add one under the "comment" section. We do everything that is fleshly and inherent in our sinful nature except go to our Father. He knows best how to soothe us.  


I wonder sometimes if I just like to feel bad. It feels good to feel bad, right? Well, maybe for a short time when an anger is "justified" or when I just feel like having a down day. But when I go too far, I'm off in the danger zone of self-pity and self-destructive tendencies. 


I am thankful that it doesn't take God a long time to realize what I need. And I am thankful that although I might fuss for quite a long time, he always knows how to deal with me. He will draw me to himself slowly, reminding me of how I've gone down that path before. Reminding me of how good it feels to rest in him. Reminding me whose child I am. 


Curling up in secure, completing, and loving arms sounds like a good ending or beginning of any day to me.

O Lord, you have searched me and known me! You know when I sit down and when I rise up; you discern my thoughts from afar. You search out my path and my lying down and are acquainted with all my ways. Even before a word is on my tongue, behold, O Lord, you know it altogether... If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there your hand shall lead me, and your right hand shall hold me. Psalm 139:1-10

delusions of a stay-at-home mom

Sometimes I wonder if I should really stay at home. 


Yesterday, for example, was a mess. Baby Savy kept waking up during the night and during the day would hardly nap. Baby Blayke (I am watching another infant, four days younger than Savannah which makes it difficult to get out of the house) was only happy if I held her upright (apparently the Grandparents that watched her all weekend forgot that babies DO need to be put down to play on their own). By late afternoon, I had to take a mini break during a double-crying fit and shut myself up in the bedroom for a couple of minutes. I just keep saying, "God, please help me!"


Today has been much more relaxed, and I feel accomplished having cleaned the apartment and taken care of some business. But, like I said, there are many days when I wonder "what if?" What if I had chosen to work outside the home? What if I had ventured on a new career--found something I truly enjoyed? These questions come because the days do indeed run together when you are pent up inside all day. When I was working, I couldn't wait for the time when I'd get to relax all day with my little bundle of joy, cleaning house a little, learning how to cook a little more (which is still very much a work in progress). But now I will do almost anything to go run an errand late at night while Chaz watches Savannah just so I can get some alone time--even if it is with a hundred other people at Wal-Mart.


I wonder if I am really cut out for this job. The thing is, I never got so worked up when I was working. Sure I would get stressed out at times and I hated taking work home with me and I complained ad nauseam about how the impromptu pep rally ruined my lesson for seventh period. But it was a world in which I felt comfortable. It was always changing but within a sphere of predictability, which I loved. Sometimes I think I enjoyed the control I had as a teacher more than anything (which is not good). As a stay at home mom, I have routine and predictability but to an almost depressing degree. Sometimes the most surprising thing that happens is what kind of poop Savannah has in her diaper. 


After Savy came, I thought I would enjoy being a stay-at-home mom without question, but it is very hard. Not hard in the sense of duty but hard because for the first time in my life I have to meet the demands of someone else before I meet my own demands. I'm not saying that I feel burdened by motherhood, but it is definitely not all that I had expected. 


I know that in reality I would be a very poor working mom. The standards I place on myself would not endure perfection in three categories (i.e. teacher, wife, mom). And by and large these feelings I have mentioned are mostly fleeting. Mostly I think I am still working out the kinks of my new job. I don't give myself enough credit for what I do or enough grace for mistakes. I believe that is a fault in all moms--working outside the home or not--that we need to correct. If we believe in a God who is merciful beyond our comprehension then we should try to take a lesson in mercy for our own hearts. 


I have always heard that being a parent will give you greater insight on God's love toward us. One of the lessons I see at work in myself is that while I still have times of selfishness (and always will), it is becoming easier to give up what I want in order to meet the needs of my daughter. Being a stay-at-home mom does have its moments of grandeur--these moments just come in smaller packages. For example, Savannah's new venture is rolling from back to belly all day long. She's just having trouble getting from belly to back. I am thankful that I have chosen to be the one who always gets to show her how to set herself right again. For that, some boring and mundane moments in my day are easy sacrifices. 

moved in

So, we've officially moved into our little apartment. Let the savings begin! It really is quite small--750 square feet to be exact. Thank God for storage facilities. However confined I might feel, though, I am beginning to enjoy some aspects of the smallness:


1. Less to clean! Need I say more?


2. No need to run up and down the stairs a bazillion times a day. Savannah's room, our room, the laundry nook, and kitchen are all within my view. I just have to stand in the middle of the apartment to see into (and most of) each area!


3. Less stuff. This is the one that has kept me thinking the past few days. If an interior decorator were to come to my living room, she would have a conniption; everything is mismatched. Dark wood desk and bookcase go together from our loft area in the house; cherry end table from living room; dark green couch; beige and honey wood glider from Savy's room; and big ol' TV on a small table that is older than Chaz--we sold our old TV stand that matched the desk and bookcase because we thought we wouldn't need it. I have no idea how to make the room easier on the eye. 


So, if I can't change what we have then I am left with two options: complain for however long we live here (which could be years) and make my husband a grump who, in turn, complains to his buddies how ungrateful his wife is; or I can change my perspective. 


You see, we really do miss our house. It was us and we worked hard to make it look beautiful and reflect our tastes. But a house and possessions cannot define a person. While this move was intended solely to save us money so that we could become better stewards, it is also forcing us (or me more accurately) to give up the cyclical doom of "keeping up with the Joneses." I am not saying that you could have put our lives in Pottery Barn catalog, but I was always keeping tabs on the lifestyles of my friends and acquaintances in Suburbia. In short, this move has been humbling in many ways. My favorite motto is "It could always be worse," and I certainly agree with that in this situation. We are so thankful for all that we have. But I need to face the fact that I've taken a big blow to my pride and to the control over my life that I once thought I had. 


Jesus said, "Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also" (Matthew 6:19-21). I'm beginning to see this verse in a new way. I can admit that my lifestyle, instead of my relationship with Christ, was beginning to define me--at least that was the thorn beginning to form in my heart. When I look at where my life is now, I am disappointed. I'm not sure what I thought my life would look like at this point, but it didn't look like this. 


But God's perspective is vastly different. He sees what I cannot see--the treasures we are laying up in Heaven. While I look around and focus on mistakes and regrets, God sees this moment as a small blip on my lifeline. He looks ahead to the plans he has for me and my family. Will I choose to trust him and continue to walk forward with the knowledge that "all things work together for good for those who are called according to his purpose"? (Romans 8:28). The answer is simple: I must. When he called me to himself, he put that trust in me and has been helping me to discover it ever since. I have to remember that what I do does not matter unless I do it "all to the glory of God" (1 Cor. 10:31). 


It's funny how things are so opposite in the Christian life. While my life might look like a mess on the outside, God is forming it into something that is greatly pleasing to him. Lord, help me believe.