Is God telling me or you to stop doing something that seems completely innocent? For me yesterday, it was Facebook, not as a mock fast but at the very least as a temporary time saver. His word didn't come through my mind but through the voice of my daughter. The defensive me wanted to shout and did, "No matter how little I do something, it's never good enough. I can't have anything!"
The Holy Spirit dealt with me in the night and told me that this too must go, not because of any particular evil but because of what is best. How often do we compare to the worst? "Well, at least I'm not this or that?" Really? Is that all we can muster up for God?
My time is at a premium now and I can't decide if my writing is for me or if it's for the advancement of the kingdom; and until I get some other things in order, I won't get an answer. Again my anchor verse rings true, "Commit that works unto the LORD, and thy thoughts shall be established," Proverbs 16:3.
Communication is what I love. We're supposed to do what we're good at, right? Like I told one of our girls this week, outside of best effort, there is no sacrifice in doing what comes naturally.
How funny that gab comes easy to a woman but she's to be in silence at church. She is to win over her husband through her behavior instead of her words. I said recently on Facebook that I believe God doesn't forbid or require some things, because he wants us to choose. Then and only then, we step into the realm of the understanding of grace. We receive our marching orders directly from the King, not by bypassing the Bible but by having poured over it, having obeyed it whether we understood it or not. That's what real faith is. And that's what I have to go on right now, and always.
Then why not put my faith to pen on Facebook? There's this thing that bothers me. A picture gets dozens of likes, the recounting of an experience gets tens more, but a verse gets a mere handful. I'm reminded to be thankful for that handful because that's whom it spoke to. I just can't get past, "For we preach not ourselves, but Christ Jesus the Lord," 2 Cor 4:5. I'm tempted to count and view my approvals. There's no godliness in that and the devil knows it.
When I ever come to terms with all this and if I'm "allowed" back in the discipline of time, I'll see you on the other side. I don't forget who you are and what your needs are. Therein is much of my problem: the intimacy of "knowing" so much about so many people I care about. I want to communicate to each heart, I really do. But I'm only one person and my mind becomes so consumed that I can hardly articulate. Ask the people I've been around lately. Maybe I'm wrong; maybe I'm doubting what I'm capable of; maybe I take things to heart too hard.
All I know is the Spirit has spoken. And I will by choice obey.
Tuesday, January 13, 2015
Friday, October 24, 2014
Playing With Fire
I haven't blogged since August 28, 2013. I wouldn't even know THAT much if I hadn't finally remembered the name of this site.
I haven't been silent altogether. I've written hundreds of pages that have yet to be reviewed. Wanting for God's timing, it seems He's waiting to know that I am fully surrendered.
This morning words came to me almost involuntarily. Not knowing if they were haunting me or drawing me forward, I prayed in the shower as they would not cease. It must be something akin to an artist who sees his work before it's done or like Melody, who hears a song and her fingers find it.
I had an experience, a test.
I had what I considered to be the perfect job dropped into my lap a few months ago. A point of perfection is that I would not be dealing with any men, per se. Until last night.
I was dusting a myriad of containers and figurines, when he showed up. I happened to have had make-up on because I had been to lunch.
He shook my hand the way a gentleman should but soon gave himself permission to speak undauntingly of me to her. She said, "Why, she's married." He said, "I am too,"
He justified by saying, "I can still look at the menu but just not order,"
A battle immediately raged in my heart. Who would overcome, the old Michelle who is flattered or the new Michelle who is crucified? This very subject had been a sore spot for me for weeks, except that I was on the losing end. I thought to speak up and tell him that much, and I did.
It hardly dissuaded him. How easy it is to believe that we are the anomaly and that they don't speak or feel that way about just anyone? How ignorant are we to believe the nuances of Satan himself?
As he began to profess himself a Christian, working in the church, I soon had ground to stand on. This morning, much too late, I thought, "This was a self proclaimed 'brother' but he was not treating me as a sister." He wasn't crude or creepy. In fact, he was quite the opposite, well spoken and mannerly.
In the back of your mind, you are doubting me, "Why is this even an issue for you. It isn't for me." Oh really? Your body is dead already? Have you crucified it for the wrong reasons, for your bitterness against being used? I get that, I do. But you were premature. There is a place that I have begged and found very recently where God grants a separation for His purposes, where I can finally view this body as nothing more than an aging vessel that is transporting my soul to eternity; and in the meantime, its desires and needs can be slayed as my Christ's body was. Not so much though that I deny pleasure or service to the husband of my youth, regardless of his own walk or understandings, as I, by the the grace of divinity, ask for nothing and expect nothing in return. Brutally easier said than done, but my spirit is being prepared and made wise for it, even as I write.
So, to this encounter, this man, this brother, I wanted to say something, to confront. For every instance I have ever tried, it has always failed. Truth is that the man who is attracted for physical purposes is soon attracted more for the morality a woman portrays in her argument to show him his error.
I write here in hopes than someone will "get it," that someone will accept that sin begins in the heart, where it covets and longs, which when given the right opportunity begins to commit adultery or at the very least starts to compare what it has to what it doesn't and becomes discontent. "A double minded man is unstable in all his ways," James 1: 8.
The words follow and if fallen on receptive ears, quickly becomes a done deed. For what had been considered innocent play and recreation, stimulation has been passed to another prideful, lonely, and/or greedy heart. The temptation, the using, the hurting of another's faith has begun and resists expulsion tooth and nail.
How do we women get into the heads of men what it's like to be continually hunted, continually the prey? No wonder that girls learn this early and use it to their advantage. But we grow tired and weary, and, yes, bitter, ever searching for that one who will give more than he takes. But wait. How do WE become the ones who give more than we take? Does it not qualify us to stay the course no matter to whom we have committed because the Lord compels us to Himself (2 Cor. 5:14) in spite of the facts. That thing every girl and woman desires deep in her bosom. Approval. There is NO peace until we find that no man's approval, no father's, no husband's, no nobody's matters when we have found through trust and obedience that of our Jesus'.
Alone in His presence in a state of repentance, confusion, brokenness, bewilderment - whatever it takes - get there. To skirt around it, begs an answer to, "How do we know what He ISN'T doing because of what we ARE doing?"
Too, I would ask this man I met, "If your wife would not find out your thoughts or perhaps is even all right with them, why doesn't it matter that it sorrows your Saviour?"
Distractions of the flesh prevent us from revival. I would tell him to return to his wife, whether she is disconnected from him or not, and guide her in leadership and affection until he has won her; and if he cannot and he endures, God will honor him all the better in the end, because he had no earthly reward but the name of Jesus.
I haven't been silent altogether. I've written hundreds of pages that have yet to be reviewed. Wanting for God's timing, it seems He's waiting to know that I am fully surrendered.
This morning words came to me almost involuntarily. Not knowing if they were haunting me or drawing me forward, I prayed in the shower as they would not cease. It must be something akin to an artist who sees his work before it's done or like Melody, who hears a song and her fingers find it.
I had an experience, a test.
I had what I considered to be the perfect job dropped into my lap a few months ago. A point of perfection is that I would not be dealing with any men, per se. Until last night.
I was dusting a myriad of containers and figurines, when he showed up. I happened to have had make-up on because I had been to lunch.
He shook my hand the way a gentleman should but soon gave himself permission to speak undauntingly of me to her. She said, "Why, she's married." He said, "I am too,"
He justified by saying, "I can still look at the menu but just not order,"
A battle immediately raged in my heart. Who would overcome, the old Michelle who is flattered or the new Michelle who is crucified? This very subject had been a sore spot for me for weeks, except that I was on the losing end. I thought to speak up and tell him that much, and I did.
It hardly dissuaded him. How easy it is to believe that we are the anomaly and that they don't speak or feel that way about just anyone? How ignorant are we to believe the nuances of Satan himself?
As he began to profess himself a Christian, working in the church, I soon had ground to stand on. This morning, much too late, I thought, "This was a self proclaimed 'brother' but he was not treating me as a sister." He wasn't crude or creepy. In fact, he was quite the opposite, well spoken and mannerly.
In the back of your mind, you are doubting me, "Why is this even an issue for you. It isn't for me." Oh really? Your body is dead already? Have you crucified it for the wrong reasons, for your bitterness against being used? I get that, I do. But you were premature. There is a place that I have begged and found very recently where God grants a separation for His purposes, where I can finally view this body as nothing more than an aging vessel that is transporting my soul to eternity; and in the meantime, its desires and needs can be slayed as my Christ's body was. Not so much though that I deny pleasure or service to the husband of my youth, regardless of his own walk or understandings, as I, by the the grace of divinity, ask for nothing and expect nothing in return. Brutally easier said than done, but my spirit is being prepared and made wise for it, even as I write.
So, to this encounter, this man, this brother, I wanted to say something, to confront. For every instance I have ever tried, it has always failed. Truth is that the man who is attracted for physical purposes is soon attracted more for the morality a woman portrays in her argument to show him his error.
I write here in hopes than someone will "get it," that someone will accept that sin begins in the heart, where it covets and longs, which when given the right opportunity begins to commit adultery or at the very least starts to compare what it has to what it doesn't and becomes discontent. "A double minded man is unstable in all his ways," James 1: 8.
The words follow and if fallen on receptive ears, quickly becomes a done deed. For what had been considered innocent play and recreation, stimulation has been passed to another prideful, lonely, and/or greedy heart. The temptation, the using, the hurting of another's faith has begun and resists expulsion tooth and nail.
How do we women get into the heads of men what it's like to be continually hunted, continually the prey? No wonder that girls learn this early and use it to their advantage. But we grow tired and weary, and, yes, bitter, ever searching for that one who will give more than he takes. But wait. How do WE become the ones who give more than we take? Does it not qualify us to stay the course no matter to whom we have committed because the Lord compels us to Himself (2 Cor. 5:14) in spite of the facts. That thing every girl and woman desires deep in her bosom. Approval. There is NO peace until we find that no man's approval, no father's, no husband's, no nobody's matters when we have found through trust and obedience that of our Jesus'.
Alone in His presence in a state of repentance, confusion, brokenness, bewilderment - whatever it takes - get there. To skirt around it, begs an answer to, "How do we know what He ISN'T doing because of what we ARE doing?"
Too, I would ask this man I met, "If your wife would not find out your thoughts or perhaps is even all right with them, why doesn't it matter that it sorrows your Saviour?"
Distractions of the flesh prevent us from revival. I would tell him to return to his wife, whether she is disconnected from him or not, and guide her in leadership and affection until he has won her; and if he cannot and he endures, God will honor him all the better in the end, because he had no earthly reward but the name of Jesus.
Wednesday, August 28, 2013
Ernie's Barn
It was close but the kids and I managed to make it to the picnic at the Ashe County Library yesterday. It was good to see the faces of the people who didn't expect us and even better to see the delight of the one who did.
I couldn't have all the kids up there and not go see Mrs. Poe. We shared a driveway tucked back in the Blue Ridge Mountains for 5 years. Since we've left, she lost her husband of over 50 years. She tells us that she thinks of us daily, which makes it all the worse that I forgot to call her on her birthday in June.
We all sat out on her front porch in the chilly mountain air and caught her up on all our comings and goings. She always seems so pleased to hear them. I noticed her frame, that not long ago used to do the yardwork and clean the local bank, was more feeble than usual. She told me once after Mr. Poe's passing that sometimes she just lies in bed in the morning because she doesn't know what to get up and do without him. She says she's fine except for an upcoming cataract surgery.
I left unconvinced and went with the kids to see another neighbor, Ernie. Michael walked up to the window and announced himself. He came straightway to the door, excited to see us. He immediately said he had something to show us. When he opened the door to the living quarters of the arena, Megan turned around to me smiling and said it smelled just the same, with some wonderful aroma his wife always used.
When we entered the ring, he told us to all get into the train he'd made since the last time we'd come. And he wasn't kidding. He took off pulling us with his 4 wheeler in the dark. That's something we never could've imagined would happen! That's what I mean about LETTING God make things happen, instead of us people MAKING things happen.
Thankful that he could pull us all back up the hill, we met Big John, a magnificent 18 hand high Belgian blonde. Then we met Little Joe, not enough hands to count but that didn't matter to Madalynn. Macklynn found a magnet and trolled the barn for metal while we talked about old times and Cricket the mule, who instead of being broken would draw in her head and fall over! I'm really glad Megan got to revisit some of her best memories.
Ernie went over to the corner and came out on stilts, him 70 years old! The kids had to give it a whirl and couldn't pass up the 2 seater bicycle contraption either. All in all it was the nicest time we've all had together in forever. The icing on the cake was Ernie's showing us the pictures of the terminally ill children who've been coming to do some of the very same things every Tuesday. We had no idea and were moved by the prize he puts on it.
By 10 pm, we'd had our stay and needed to set out for home an hour away, not before stopping and picking up the 2 other cars. Miranda assisted Megan in restoring the wrecked car to driving condition for a little over $200 in parts, including 2 wheels. Somehow, Megan was given 4 new tires, also! Provision much?!
The 4 cars were on the way to New Hope and not a minute too soon. Michael had done his share by rotating the tires on the van Friday morning but ran into something that took 4 hours to get back together. Everyone was plain worn out. Megan had worked all week and then on Mike's car. Miranda was sick and up a lot of Saturday night making all manner of terrible sinus sounds. McKala had been up 'til 1 am and up for work at 6 am. Michael had gotten back from his game at 2 am. Melody had cooked for the picnic and babysat Madalynn while Macklynn was on the field at 9:45 am.
Church didn't happen this morning. I'm okay with it; although, as a friend said, "If you miss Kevin (our pastor) speak, you always miss a good sermon."
I began my late morning with Exodus and coffee. Even though, I don't normally put much effort into cooking on Sundays, I decided homemade pizza was in order. It's quite a process, but I knew I had all afternoon. Madalynn and I took the dough with us to rise pondside, while McKala made the sauce. It was all I could do to come back in from the sun. It's as though the heat is the hand of God himself.
Right now, Megan is catching a show with Mike that he and I watched earlier about the Roll Tide and War Eagle rivalry. That's after she watched "Pride and Prejudice" for the umpteenth time with her sisters. Michael and Macklynn started a fire and have been cat-fishing. We're all resting up for another big week.
Miranda's first day back to work is tomorrow. We have to finish cleaning and working on the cars. Michael has to fix the chicken coup because the piglet's decided he can come and go as he pleases. Then he has to go "throw hay," stack bails 8 high from the field onto a moving trailer, for a neighbor. He'll miss practice again; but after the 4 sacks he made Friday night, hopefully Coach won't say much! Macklynn will have 3 nights of practice, also. Melody will help bake cookies for the first time at church Tuesday while I'm at counseling. Madalynn will start her much anticipated children's choir practice Wednesday night. But you know what? I couldn't ask for much more of God's hand in the children's lives because we're "more than just living".
All this but I can't stop thinking about my friend, Christi, a bridesmaid of mine and fellow writer, and her husband, Rob, who just underwent emergency surgery only to find out it's a malignant brain tumor. I'd like to think it is only there so that God can reveal his divinity through their faith.
"The secret of the Lord is with them that fear him; and he will shew them his covenant," ~ Psalm 25:14.
I couldn't have all the kids up there and not go see Mrs. Poe. We shared a driveway tucked back in the Blue Ridge Mountains for 5 years. Since we've left, she lost her husband of over 50 years. She tells us that she thinks of us daily, which makes it all the worse that I forgot to call her on her birthday in June.
We all sat out on her front porch in the chilly mountain air and caught her up on all our comings and goings. She always seems so pleased to hear them. I noticed her frame, that not long ago used to do the yardwork and clean the local bank, was more feeble than usual. She told me once after Mr. Poe's passing that sometimes she just lies in bed in the morning because she doesn't know what to get up and do without him. She says she's fine except for an upcoming cataract surgery.
I left unconvinced and went with the kids to see another neighbor, Ernie. Michael walked up to the window and announced himself. He came straightway to the door, excited to see us. He immediately said he had something to show us. When he opened the door to the living quarters of the arena, Megan turned around to me smiling and said it smelled just the same, with some wonderful aroma his wife always used.
Thankful that he could pull us all back up the hill, we met Big John, a magnificent 18 hand high Belgian blonde. Then we met Little Joe, not enough hands to count but that didn't matter to Madalynn. Macklynn found a magnet and trolled the barn for metal while we talked about old times and Cricket the mule, who instead of being broken would draw in her head and fall over! I'm really glad Megan got to revisit some of her best memories.
Ernie went over to the corner and came out on stilts, him 70 years old! The kids had to give it a whirl and couldn't pass up the 2 seater bicycle contraption either. All in all it was the nicest time we've all had together in forever. The icing on the cake was Ernie's showing us the pictures of the terminally ill children who've been coming to do some of the very same things every Tuesday. We had no idea and were moved by the prize he puts on it. 
By 10 pm, we'd had our stay and needed to set out for home an hour away, not before stopping and picking up the 2 other cars. Miranda assisted Megan in restoring the wrecked car to driving condition for a little over $200 in parts, including 2 wheels. Somehow, Megan was given 4 new tires, also! Provision much?! The 4 cars were on the way to New Hope and not a minute too soon. Michael had done his share by rotating the tires on the van Friday morning but ran into something that took 4 hours to get back together. Everyone was plain worn out. Megan had worked all week and then on Mike's car. Miranda was sick and up a lot of Saturday night making all manner of terrible sinus sounds. McKala had been up 'til 1 am and up for work at 6 am. Michael had gotten back from his game at 2 am. Melody had cooked for the picnic and babysat Madalynn while Macklynn was on the field at 9:45 am.
Church didn't happen this morning. I'm okay with it; although, as a friend said, "If you miss Kevin (our pastor) speak, you always miss a good sermon."
I began my late morning with Exodus and coffee. Even though, I don't normally put much effort into cooking on Sundays, I decided homemade pizza was in order. It's quite a process, but I knew I had all afternoon. Madalynn and I took the dough with us to rise pondside, while McKala made the sauce. It was all I could do to come back in from the sun. It's as though the heat is the hand of God himself.
Right now, Megan is catching a show with Mike that he and I watched earlier about the Roll Tide and War Eagle rivalry. That's after she watched "Pride and Prejudice" for the umpteenth time with her sisters. Michael and Macklynn started a fire and have been cat-fishing. We're all resting up for another big week.
Miranda's first day back to work is tomorrow. We have to finish cleaning and working on the cars. Michael has to fix the chicken coup because the piglet's decided he can come and go as he pleases. Then he has to go "throw hay," stack bails 8 high from the field onto a moving trailer, for a neighbor. He'll miss practice again; but after the 4 sacks he made Friday night, hopefully Coach won't say much! Macklynn will have 3 nights of practice, also. Melody will help bake cookies for the first time at church Tuesday while I'm at counseling. Madalynn will start her much anticipated children's choir practice Wednesday night. But you know what? I couldn't ask for much more of God's hand in the children's lives because we're "more than just living".
All this but I can't stop thinking about my friend, Christi, a bridesmaid of mine and fellow writer, and her husband, Rob, who just underwent emergency surgery only to find out it's a malignant brain tumor. I'd like to think it is only there so that God can reveal his divinity through their faith.
"The secret of the Lord is with them that fear him; and he will shew them his covenant," ~ Psalm 25:14.
Saturday, July 6, 2013
Ain't Gotta Be Bad to Be Fun
I realized we had to start preparing early this year for our 4th of July party. So much was undone from last year. We've worked on the maintenance bit by bit, but much has gotten in the way of it: Mike working in Oklahoma, Megan and Miranda rejoining us, McKala working, Michael interning and making earrings hand over fist, and all going to and working at summer camp and VBS (which I might've blogged about if I'd had the time). Melody made friends with a Godly family there and has been spending time with them instead of fretting over worldly things. I couldn't be more thankful for it.
Who would complain about such good things? Apparently me! The night before the party I lost my mind on everybody, even though I'd given them permission to do the things that took them away from time on the house and yard. I was overtired and certain we wouldn't be able to make things presentable before the "event".
The day before I was the one who had to be gone from home all day. I had to take Melody to her orthodontist appointment and we had to finish holiday shopping. I didn't buy any decoration that isn't "Made in America"! Later, I had my regular Tuesday night "session"/class ...actually, counseling.
Mike had asked me Monday if I'd be home to receive a package on Tuesday. When I finally dragged in at a quarter 'til 9, McKala said I had something on the chest of drawers in our bedroom. I found a plane ticket there and while I was rambling through my mind what that meant, Mike walked out of our bathroom. He'd been gone to Moore, Oklahoma for 5 weeks. I screamed like an Army wife would! I'd just told him last week that he'd been gone so long that I felt like I truly missed him and that we had a new place to start from. Call it what you will but it was the truth.
Here he sits beside me watching "American Pickers" as I recount what turned out to be our best party ever. Thursday morning everybody got up, even though Megan and Miranda had driven back from Oklahoma 18 hours arriving at midnight. Melody decorated with streamers and balloons, flowers and books; Michael pressure washed; McKala headed to work but had already taken on the clutter, floors, and baseboards with Macklynn and Madalynn; Miranda painted; Megan pressed almost 100 burgers (I bought beef every time I thought it was a good price, not knowing I'd stocked up well over 30 pounds) and I push mowed (which God knows I need the exercise from), while Mike took the kids intermittently for rides on the Harley he'd rented the day before.
He took me to Logan's for our 24th anniversary that was Monday! We got to witness for the first time TOGETHER as our waitress divulged the details of her life and listened intently as we told her the parts of our story that were similar to her and what God has done with them. He drove straight over to the dealership to rent himself a little piece of freedom and although I needed to be preparing for the party that night, I found myself on the back of that motorcycle.
It's completely awesome that he got to be home for the party since it all started years ago because the 4th of July is his favorite holiday. It'd been raining for days though and we weren't sure how it'd go, nor was anyone else. It got off to a slow start but within the hour, there was hardly anywhere else to put food or people. Kids were jumping into the pond. Our patriotic compilation was playing. "The Warrior Song" was on when I passed through the carport. I half heartedly apologized for the hard core nature of it, not realizing that we had a Marine among us ...who'd just been doing flips off the trampoline into the water :)
There were pick-up games of basketball in the driveway and pick-up games of checkers on the front porch. The teens soon gathered around the water slide Michael put together before he grilled those dozens of burgers. Since there were upwards of 60 people, I asked Mike if he would pray with the "dry ones" in the carport so we could eat in shifts. It's still odd yet wonderful to hear him do that.
The brindle Pit Bull puppy Michael brought home Wednesday from the Vet's office and named Pippy Lou was a huge hit. I don't think she was put down for more than a few minutes. She even got to spend part of the evening hammocking with some of the kids. Our new piglet was a close second for attention.
As the mounds of burgers, salads, treats, and fruit disappeared, the lighting of the bonfire began while children swam around the pond and others were swung on the swings. I was utterly surrounded by friends, not just any friends but the kind, new and old, who've shared with us in our times of need and our times of celebration, people who love God to their cores, people who've brought us food and clothes; mowed our grass; taught and lent their ears to us; opened their homes to and smiled upon us despite their own tiredness, loneliness, sickness, hardship, or busyness.
Here was a spectacle of a night ...without lewdness: cursing, bikini baring, drinking, bickering, or making out. We did have a close call with the music though! As McKala and I were picking out the songs from iTunes on Sunday, I added a favorite of mine. It's the story of how a rock singer "sold his soul" to the devil to become famous, but realizes he's really just a country boy patriot at heart with a "Don't Tread on Me" flag flying above his property. Problem is that although he says "drinking from the bottle, that's not me", he also said, "but I smoke a little weed". We discovered it after it was on all 12 of the CDs McKala burned for "party favors". I can't imagine how I'dve explained that to our pastor's family when they got it home! So, now I have a dozen on them stacked on my desk ;)
Thank God, we escaped injuries and arguments and storms. The display went off without a hitch after the kids played with sparklers, made s'mores, and settled down on blankets. It didn't start raining until the last 2 cars were about to leave. Michael offered to retrieve one to which she originally said "no", but laughingly passed her keys to him after he "insisted". And it's a good thing because he slid right down the yard to get to it. I had to pretreat his shirt down the front and the back! She snickered, "That could've been me!" ...love her humor, and the dedication of another: that although quite pregnant and adorably so, she had the sink full of suds to wash up even though almost everyone else was outside.
These are "my people". This is "my country" in more ways than one. All this has inspired lots of questions from the kids. I believe we'll be cracking a few of those books we decorated with before they make it back to the shelves. "Glory, glory, hallelujah" is taking new form! The fact that America was founded on all that is wholesome is being cemented into the hearts and minds of our family through times like this past Thursday night.
Today, we were still wondering whose stuff is whose hanging on our line and we were eating leftover hamburgers ...and that's just fine.
Who would complain about such good things? Apparently me! The night before the party I lost my mind on everybody, even though I'd given them permission to do the things that took them away from time on the house and yard. I was overtired and certain we wouldn't be able to make things presentable before the "event".
The day before I was the one who had to be gone from home all day. I had to take Melody to her orthodontist appointment and we had to finish holiday shopping. I didn't buy any decoration that isn't "Made in America"! Later, I had my regular Tuesday night "session"/class ...actually, counseling.
Mike had asked me Monday if I'd be home to receive a package on Tuesday. When I finally dragged in at a quarter 'til 9, McKala said I had something on the chest of drawers in our bedroom. I found a plane ticket there and while I was rambling through my mind what that meant, Mike walked out of our bathroom. He'd been gone to Moore, Oklahoma for 5 weeks. I screamed like an Army wife would! I'd just told him last week that he'd been gone so long that I felt like I truly missed him and that we had a new place to start from. Call it what you will but it was the truth.
Here he sits beside me watching "American Pickers" as I recount what turned out to be our best party ever. Thursday morning everybody got up, even though Megan and Miranda had driven back from Oklahoma 18 hours arriving at midnight. Melody decorated with streamers and balloons, flowers and books; Michael pressure washed; McKala headed to work but had already taken on the clutter, floors, and baseboards with Macklynn and Madalynn; Miranda painted; Megan pressed almost 100 burgers (I bought beef every time I thought it was a good price, not knowing I'd stocked up well over 30 pounds) and I push mowed (which God knows I need the exercise from), while Mike took the kids intermittently for rides on the Harley he'd rented the day before.
He took me to Logan's for our 24th anniversary that was Monday! We got to witness for the first time TOGETHER as our waitress divulged the details of her life and listened intently as we told her the parts of our story that were similar to her and what God has done with them. He drove straight over to the dealership to rent himself a little piece of freedom and although I needed to be preparing for the party that night, I found myself on the back of that motorcycle.
It's completely awesome that he got to be home for the party since it all started years ago because the 4th of July is his favorite holiday. It'd been raining for days though and we weren't sure how it'd go, nor was anyone else. It got off to a slow start but within the hour, there was hardly anywhere else to put food or people. Kids were jumping into the pond. Our patriotic compilation was playing. "The Warrior Song" was on when I passed through the carport. I half heartedly apologized for the hard core nature of it, not realizing that we had a Marine among us ...who'd just been doing flips off the trampoline into the water :)There were pick-up games of basketball in the driveway and pick-up games of checkers on the front porch. The teens soon gathered around the water slide Michael put together before he grilled those dozens of burgers. Since there were upwards of 60 people, I asked Mike if he would pray with the "dry ones" in the carport so we could eat in shifts. It's still odd yet wonderful to hear him do that.
The brindle Pit Bull puppy Michael brought home Wednesday from the Vet's office and named Pippy Lou was a huge hit. I don't think she was put down for more than a few minutes. She even got to spend part of the evening hammocking with some of the kids. Our new piglet was a close second for attention.As the mounds of burgers, salads, treats, and fruit disappeared, the lighting of the bonfire began while children swam around the pond and others were swung on the swings. I was utterly surrounded by friends, not just any friends but the kind, new and old, who've shared with us in our times of need and our times of celebration, people who love God to their cores, people who've brought us food and clothes; mowed our grass; taught and lent their ears to us; opened their homes to and smiled upon us despite their own tiredness, loneliness, sickness, hardship, or busyness.
Thank God, we escaped injuries and arguments and storms. The display went off without a hitch after the kids played with sparklers, made s'mores, and settled down on blankets. It didn't start raining until the last 2 cars were about to leave. Michael offered to retrieve one to which she originally said "no", but laughingly passed her keys to him after he "insisted". And it's a good thing because he slid right down the yard to get to it. I had to pretreat his shirt down the front and the back! She snickered, "That could've been me!" ...love her humor, and the dedication of another: that although quite pregnant and adorably so, she had the sink full of suds to wash up even though almost everyone else was outside.
These are "my people". This is "my country" in more ways than one. All this has inspired lots of questions from the kids. I believe we'll be cracking a few of those books we decorated with before they make it back to the shelves. "Glory, glory, hallelujah" is taking new form! The fact that America was founded on all that is wholesome is being cemented into the hearts and minds of our family through times like this past Thursday night. Today, we were still wondering whose stuff is whose hanging on our line and we were eating leftover hamburgers ...and that's just fine.
Saturday, June 15, 2013
Reminders
I just came in from the porch listening to the laughter of the family Melody is photographing. A family friend picked up on her ability to take good candid shots. She has an eye for light and graphics. I'm so glad because she so easily falls prey to what her peers are portraying that she often can't see her own possibilities. The surrounding pictures are ones she took of her sisters in the last week.As the family arrived, McKala drove up with Michael. She picked him up from the internship he's doing with a large animal veterinarian. McKala had asked me to come by Chick-fil-A before I dropped Michael off. She had gotten me a gift card and had made a special dessert. To top it off, her superior came to the table and said, "I haven't told McKala this yet but she is such a hard worker. I could train 100 people to go out in the dining room and I'd have to go behind what they left, but McKala, not at all."
We'd come by to see McKala after I'd taken the boys fishing at the lake. Macklynn had been invited to come fishing at the residence of McKala's boss. Out of good will, he said he could come any time and Macklynn surely took him up on it. He spotted him to hit him up halfway through the meal at church Wednesday night. 
I took off my button up shirt, flipped up my jean legs and sat there in their white Adirondack chair surrounded by all God's glory in my bare feet and white tank, with my hair blowing in the clear blue sky. It was such a change from the "jagged little pills" I had to swallow the day before. Most everyone was venting their frustrations that we never seem to complete anything, that I start things and don't finish ...and they're right.
It was humbling to sit again in the presence of the One who set into motion the waves of the water, the wispy clouds of the sky, and the varying foliage of the trees. He's the one who sends the warmth of the sun to find me as if it's the touch of His own hand. There I was sharing it with our boys in a place offered by people who surely didn't have to.
The boys threw bread out for the fish. Soon enough the Lab figured it out and swam out to retrieve it for himself. The other dog visited with me and I got to squeeze its precious face the way I used to Tootsie's. Then they'd run off to find driftwood to tug away from each other. Soon enough, it was time to get lunch and leave Michael at the Vet's office. On the way home, Macklynn was sitting behind me and said, "I had a good time." He doesn't say much, so I know he meant it, just like when he and I were sitting on the porch in the rockers a few days ago; and as we looked toward the pond, he asked, "How will Earth become Heaven?" and followed it quickly with, "Will there be fish there?" He finished it pensively with, "I hope so." Those are the moments I live for, the moments that make it okay when things are undone.
When we got home, Miranda had cleaned out the carport, started the laundry that's piled up over the last 2 weeks of dirty well water, dusted and organized the bookshelf, mowed the front yard, and weed eaten the important areas for Melody to do the photo shoot that she forgot to tell us she had offered our property for. This morning she got up and helped Michael cultivate our neighbor's garden with the horse he would normally use, except that the neighbor had a heart attack and just got out of the hospital. That man is already out mowing his yard and ours and has just left this Saturday morning to do someone else's! Michael is weed eating for him in exchange. That same neighbor stopped by the other day on his motorcycle and as we talked about how Michael doesn't gun, the way most boys would, his Dad's old dual motorcycle he rides, he said, "My mama would've given anything to have a kid as good as Michael." From a man who doesn't hand out many compliments, I was grateful to hear it.
Michael has also just left the earrings he's been making at the local general store. He's already sold close to a dozen pairs this week to other people. He and I were probably an interesting looking couple at "Michael's" craft store searching for the perfect jewels to place in the primer of the spent bullet casings. You know, we may sometimes fall short of what the world expects on its timetable of proper knowledge, but I'm writing down for my pleasure these reminders of what the kids are able and willing to do with their abilities and creativity and generosities, of where God is putting them in His scheme of things. All knowledge does not have to be crammed into 12 years. Life is a building of relevant information and when it's gotten and appreciated in God's timing, then paired with skill and a good nature, it makes for a "sweet life". You know, like the Paul Davis song. Look it up; it's one of my all time favorites.
That song always makes me think of Megan. She's been calling all week. She's left the rat race and is awaiting the "go" for the internship she's interviewed for in the ministry. She's been spending time and having conversations with her grandparents. She went to yard sales with her Pop yesterday just the way she used to. She went to a Braves game where a couple of special young people sought her out as their "leader" in the group. God is moving and I can't wait to be a part of the revealing. Gracious, I'm all teared up again thinking of that song, all that Megan's lived through since childhood and conquered, and who she's becoming in spite of it and because of it. I love being a mother, even when I tend to stink at it.
Thursday, June 13, 2013
Lamentations
I'm involved in a study, a Bible study. Wouldn't you know it came about the same time that I determined again to read the Bible from the beginning; so instead of doing one or the other, I'm doing both ...whether I have "time" to or not.
In was "assigned" this morning to read Lamentations 3:22-23. Instead, I decided to check a few things on the computer first. I saw that we have $105 in our account. I read friends' updates. I began wondering why the "well man" hasn't come yet and if we will. I thought about what I ate last night. I finally went to the porch to read and considered how much yard work there is to do because of the rain, except that the riding mower needs a belt that we can't afford just yet. Then, I remembered that we should just push mow. Afterall, what makes sense about exercising indoors when there's work to be outdoors? Yet, restoration of ab tone doesn't always come with regular activity. I started thinking about our neighbor who had a heart attack, then that we haven't planted anything in the garden he plowed us and that we should seed for a fall garden ...and so on and on and on I thought, until I remembered I was out there to read God's Word and to hear what he has to say specifically to me, not even about my family and friends, but about me and to me.
Back to Lamentations: it's hard for me to read verses out of context, so I started at the beginning of chapter 3 and it stung me like wasp. If you are serious at all about finding God, you will also take the time to read Lamentations 3. It begins with, "I am the man that hath seen affliction by the rod of his wrath. He hath led me, and brought me into darkness, but not into light. Surely against me is he turned; he turneth his hand against me all day." Read for yourself all the feelings he continues to spell out. If you suffer at the hands of an oppressor or even a situation, you surely will understand. Then, in verse 21, he comes to his senses, "This I recall to my mind, therefore have I hope. It is of the Lord's mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not. They are new every morning: great is thy faithfulness."
I halted there, knowing my error. If only we would go to the Lord straight away every single morning. I could've seen Him clearly instead of through the myriad of issues I have at hand. He knows it's going to rain again tonight and that, yes, we got up late and that it's okay to get outside for a while because learning can be done tonight since Mike is away and it won't detract from our time together. He knows what a mess I make when I plan. He knows that I want my children to love His Word and that if it isn't being received well that I hesitate to move forward to other subjects. He knows that I was brought up like most everyone else these days, compartmentalizing. He knows that I think everything needs its place and time and how hard it is for me to learn the natural paths of things, "a little here and a little there". He knows I procrastinate when I don't know what to do, when things aren't going my way. He also knows I owe my children an apology for not following Him daily, because ...I know they excel in important matters but that I've failed them in things I've deemed less paramount. As simple as those things may be, they too hold value in the order of life.
All I had to do this morning was start it by PRAISING Him instead of PLEADING to Him, you know that prayer most of us have, "Show me!" "Help me!" "Save me!" "Give me!" Now, is that really trusting? That He will answer, yes ...but that He IS helping already, no. I could've said immediately, "Thank you for the safety and comfort with which you guarded us and gave us rest last night. Thank for a new day to rest in obedience of your will for me." But, no, I had to quench my curiosity about ongoing matters. Thus, I went to God with a racing mind and troubled heart. And we must know we can and should do that, BUT how can God teach us Who He IS if we never come to Him in silence, ready to be filled with His presence and His Word?
So, beginning in verse 28 I read, "He sitteth alone and keepeth silence, because he hath borne it upon him. He putteth his mouth in the dust; is so be there may be hope. He giveth his cheek to him that smiteth him: he is filled full with reproach. For the Lord will not cast off for ever: but though he cause grief, yet will he have compassion according to the multitude of his mercies. For he doth not afflict willingly nor grieve the children of men." I could hardly move from these verses. You may've noticed I don't have as much to say lately and I had just read why. God is teaching me things I don't claim to understand right now. But these I know: that I trust Him and that He's taking me somewhere I haven't been with Him.
In shuffling through "school" materials, trying to toss out anything that isn't fundamental, anything that is diverting us from gravely important things; I found an old handout that describes the path to Christian maturity as desire/"want to", dedication/"try to", determination/"got to", and finally discipline/"how to". I've been hung at determination so long that the "got to" just won't let me stay where I am. And I'm just plain tired of not making it to discipline, struggling with the same things I've found in my old letters.
Verses 39-41, "Wherefore doth a living man complain, a man for the punishment of his sins? Let us search and try our ways, and turn again to the Lord. Let us lift up our heart with our hands unto God in the heavens."
Do we think because we aren 't blatantly disobeying commandments that we are good? Do we think because we have "respectable" positions and homes that we aren't sinning? When is the last time you read James 4:17, "Therefore to him that knoweth to do good, and doeth it not, to him it is sin"? You and only you are accountable to that statement. God and only God knows if you've ever known Him at all. Are you doing as much as you can or as little as you can? Are you searching or are you hiding? These are the questions I'm asking myself and in my silence, I'm finding the answers to.
In was "assigned" this morning to read Lamentations 3:22-23. Instead, I decided to check a few things on the computer first. I saw that we have $105 in our account. I read friends' updates. I began wondering why the "well man" hasn't come yet and if we will. I thought about what I ate last night. I finally went to the porch to read and considered how much yard work there is to do because of the rain, except that the riding mower needs a belt that we can't afford just yet. Then, I remembered that we should just push mow. Afterall, what makes sense about exercising indoors when there's work to be outdoors? Yet, restoration of ab tone doesn't always come with regular activity. I started thinking about our neighbor who had a heart attack, then that we haven't planted anything in the garden he plowed us and that we should seed for a fall garden ...and so on and on and on I thought, until I remembered I was out there to read God's Word and to hear what he has to say specifically to me, not even about my family and friends, but about me and to me.
Back to Lamentations: it's hard for me to read verses out of context, so I started at the beginning of chapter 3 and it stung me like wasp. If you are serious at all about finding God, you will also take the time to read Lamentations 3. It begins with, "I am the man that hath seen affliction by the rod of his wrath. He hath led me, and brought me into darkness, but not into light. Surely against me is he turned; he turneth his hand against me all day." Read for yourself all the feelings he continues to spell out. If you suffer at the hands of an oppressor or even a situation, you surely will understand. Then, in verse 21, he comes to his senses, "This I recall to my mind, therefore have I hope. It is of the Lord's mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not. They are new every morning: great is thy faithfulness."
I halted there, knowing my error. If only we would go to the Lord straight away every single morning. I could've seen Him clearly instead of through the myriad of issues I have at hand. He knows it's going to rain again tonight and that, yes, we got up late and that it's okay to get outside for a while because learning can be done tonight since Mike is away and it won't detract from our time together. He knows what a mess I make when I plan. He knows that I want my children to love His Word and that if it isn't being received well that I hesitate to move forward to other subjects. He knows that I was brought up like most everyone else these days, compartmentalizing. He knows that I think everything needs its place and time and how hard it is for me to learn the natural paths of things, "a little here and a little there". He knows I procrastinate when I don't know what to do, when things aren't going my way. He also knows I owe my children an apology for not following Him daily, because ...I know they excel in important matters but that I've failed them in things I've deemed less paramount. As simple as those things may be, they too hold value in the order of life.
All I had to do this morning was start it by PRAISING Him instead of PLEADING to Him, you know that prayer most of us have, "Show me!" "Help me!" "Save me!" "Give me!" Now, is that really trusting? That He will answer, yes ...but that He IS helping already, no. I could've said immediately, "Thank you for the safety and comfort with which you guarded us and gave us rest last night. Thank for a new day to rest in obedience of your will for me." But, no, I had to quench my curiosity about ongoing matters. Thus, I went to God with a racing mind and troubled heart. And we must know we can and should do that, BUT how can God teach us Who He IS if we never come to Him in silence, ready to be filled with His presence and His Word?
So, beginning in verse 28 I read, "He sitteth alone and keepeth silence, because he hath borne it upon him. He putteth his mouth in the dust; is so be there may be hope. He giveth his cheek to him that smiteth him: he is filled full with reproach. For the Lord will not cast off for ever: but though he cause grief, yet will he have compassion according to the multitude of his mercies. For he doth not afflict willingly nor grieve the children of men." I could hardly move from these verses. You may've noticed I don't have as much to say lately and I had just read why. God is teaching me things I don't claim to understand right now. But these I know: that I trust Him and that He's taking me somewhere I haven't been with Him.
In shuffling through "school" materials, trying to toss out anything that isn't fundamental, anything that is diverting us from gravely important things; I found an old handout that describes the path to Christian maturity as desire/"want to", dedication/"try to", determination/"got to", and finally discipline/"how to". I've been hung at determination so long that the "got to" just won't let me stay where I am. And I'm just plain tired of not making it to discipline, struggling with the same things I've found in my old letters.
Verses 39-41, "Wherefore doth a living man complain, a man for the punishment of his sins? Let us search and try our ways, and turn again to the Lord. Let us lift up our heart with our hands unto God in the heavens."
Do we think because we aren 't blatantly disobeying commandments that we are good? Do we think because we have "respectable" positions and homes that we aren't sinning? When is the last time you read James 4:17, "Therefore to him that knoweth to do good, and doeth it not, to him it is sin"? You and only you are accountable to that statement. God and only God knows if you've ever known Him at all. Are you doing as much as you can or as little as you can? Are you searching or are you hiding? These are the questions I'm asking myself and in my silence, I'm finding the answers to.
Saturday, June 1, 2013
Runneth Over
When I was having my coffee this morning standing in front of the window, I saw for the first time the great big turtle taking his exaggerated steps across the driveway and into the pond. After a quick errand, a truly unique visit from a friend, a call from Mike on his way to Oklahoma that he was at a hospital with another kidney stone, and an empty handed return home from the kids when the store closed just before they arrived. So since we didn't get a belt for the riding mower, pushing was on the menu again, but not before I got a few minutes to myself with the majesty of my surroundings.
I sat by the pond breathing in the beauty of it all and not much less impressed than I was of the ocean. It is the same sky, the same wind, much the same water brimming with life beneath and above it ...but with a canopy of leaves shielding me from the sun, which it seemed like I was praying for everything under ...when God told me to "be quiet". You know, like "be still and know that I am God". And when I cleared my mind to do just that, a big wind came as if He were breathing on me. Then, I thought how my presence must tarnish the scenery. The "scenery" needed to be groomed and I was reminded that even in its unkemptness, God's creation is just plain beautiful, as is each of his people. What a relief that my Father thinks I'm beautiful even when, and perhaps especially when, I'm a mess.
Before long, we had a push mower and 2 weed eaters buzzing. After 3 hours, the older ones got a reprieve to go and dog sit for the night so that our good friends could flitter away to the coast for the day :) McKala had been at work and then to "camp" to visit her close knit friends from out of state who've returned for the summer, so it was just Madalynn, Macklynn, and me.
Macklynn fished nonstop, catching Large Mouth Bass, catfish, sunfish, and Crappie. He raced his bare feet back and forth to the barn for worms. Madalynn mostly talked about things she doesn't have, which I discourage. She just has had in her mind that a tree house would be fantastic. (It IS one thing in all these years we haven't had.) I raked and raked some more. I just about have it how I want it.
I came in sometime in the middle of it all and decided it didn't make any sense not to have supper by the pond with them, so we did. Then it didn't make any sense not to burn the leaves and limbs, so we did. And then it didn't make any sense not to let them roast marshmellows, so we did ...even if they were miniature ones ;) Skewers did the trick!
We sat outside way after the sun set and the lightening bugs flashed against the black silhouettes of the tree line and the hoot owl returned our calls. We added to and turned the pile over and over to let it breathe. Finally, they played with it a little too much, blowing coals off the limbs they pretended were sparklers. I sent them in to clean up.
There I was again, alone in the presence of the One who lets us live in this setting. Actually, I wasn't alone. Smokey was there. He always is. I don't have to call him. I probably couldn't get him to leave even if I wanted him to. It was well past his time to be in his doghouse, but that's not who he is. He stays until everyone is where they're supposed to be. How we could take cues from a lowly dog. Mia was there also stretched across the sand like it was the best thing in the world. The cats even came down to investigate. The bats swooped low for their nightly catch. The bullfrogs and toads took turns with their songs. And then I saw a "shooting star".
I knew this was one of those days where "my cup runneth over" ...and that I'd better put it in writing. And so I have, goodnight.
BUT not yet, Mike just called here after midnight to say the driver of the wrecker that came to get him yesterday and the same one who took him to the hospital today and the same one who took him on a round trip of 6 hours to get an expensive part that, yes, Mike put on despite his pain, told him about his 9 adult children and their mother who passed away 5 years ago and that he hasn't talked with anyone else about the void he's had 'til today. Man, God can and will do so much in the midst of chaos.
Today just got even better. Oh ...I guess that would be yesterday. So ...TODAY just got off to great start. I have 2 sleepy heads in my bed and after I shower, hopefully I'll be too tired to be awoken by their squirmy little bodies because their brother and sisters are making their debut in the choir in the morning! If you get close to me today, my cup might just spill on you. I can't help but tell people how good God is. Life is Good, but God is Better. And if someone's already said that, then that's too bad :)
I sat by the pond breathing in the beauty of it all and not much less impressed than I was of the ocean. It is the same sky, the same wind, much the same water brimming with life beneath and above it ...but with a canopy of leaves shielding me from the sun, which it seemed like I was praying for everything under ...when God told me to "be quiet". You know, like "be still and know that I am God". And when I cleared my mind to do just that, a big wind came as if He were breathing on me. Then, I thought how my presence must tarnish the scenery. The "scenery" needed to be groomed and I was reminded that even in its unkemptness, God's creation is just plain beautiful, as is each of his people. What a relief that my Father thinks I'm beautiful even when, and perhaps especially when, I'm a mess.
Before long, we had a push mower and 2 weed eaters buzzing. After 3 hours, the older ones got a reprieve to go and dog sit for the night so that our good friends could flitter away to the coast for the day :) McKala had been at work and then to "camp" to visit her close knit friends from out of state who've returned for the summer, so it was just Madalynn, Macklynn, and me.
Macklynn fished nonstop, catching Large Mouth Bass, catfish, sunfish, and Crappie. He raced his bare feet back and forth to the barn for worms. Madalynn mostly talked about things she doesn't have, which I discourage. She just has had in her mind that a tree house would be fantastic. (It IS one thing in all these years we haven't had.) I raked and raked some more. I just about have it how I want it.
I came in sometime in the middle of it all and decided it didn't make any sense not to have supper by the pond with them, so we did. Then it didn't make any sense not to burn the leaves and limbs, so we did. And then it didn't make any sense not to let them roast marshmellows, so we did ...even if they were miniature ones ;) Skewers did the trick!
We sat outside way after the sun set and the lightening bugs flashed against the black silhouettes of the tree line and the hoot owl returned our calls. We added to and turned the pile over and over to let it breathe. Finally, they played with it a little too much, blowing coals off the limbs they pretended were sparklers. I sent them in to clean up.
There I was again, alone in the presence of the One who lets us live in this setting. Actually, I wasn't alone. Smokey was there. He always is. I don't have to call him. I probably couldn't get him to leave even if I wanted him to. It was well past his time to be in his doghouse, but that's not who he is. He stays until everyone is where they're supposed to be. How we could take cues from a lowly dog. Mia was there also stretched across the sand like it was the best thing in the world. The cats even came down to investigate. The bats swooped low for their nightly catch. The bullfrogs and toads took turns with their songs. And then I saw a "shooting star".
I knew this was one of those days where "my cup runneth over" ...and that I'd better put it in writing. And so I have, goodnight.
BUT not yet, Mike just called here after midnight to say the driver of the wrecker that came to get him yesterday and the same one who took him to the hospital today and the same one who took him on a round trip of 6 hours to get an expensive part that, yes, Mike put on despite his pain, told him about his 9 adult children and their mother who passed away 5 years ago and that he hasn't talked with anyone else about the void he's had 'til today. Man, God can and will do so much in the midst of chaos.
Today just got even better. Oh ...I guess that would be yesterday. So ...TODAY just got off to great start. I have 2 sleepy heads in my bed and after I shower, hopefully I'll be too tired to be awoken by their squirmy little bodies because their brother and sisters are making their debut in the choir in the morning! If you get close to me today, my cup might just spill on you. I can't help but tell people how good God is. Life is Good, but God is Better. And if someone's already said that, then that's too bad :)
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