New & Improved

On the eve of the last day of 2011, I can't help but reflect on this past year with wonder and amazement. 

One whole year of new is gone. 

For me, 2011 was filled with...

Stuff I'd never done before. 
Journeys I'd never taken before 
Friendships I'd never made before. 
Experiences I'd never had before. 
Feelings I'd never felt before. 
Lessons I'd never learned before. 
Joys I'd never known before.

But with another whole year of new on the horizon, I gaze ahead, holding my breath, anticipating the wonder and amazement to come. 

What new things lurk around the corner?  What new experiences await?  Only time will tell. 

In light of the new year, I am posting something I journaled last January, which I know is still pertinent today.  Maybe you can relate as well...

New and Improved

Sometime last year our family acquired a Wii game system from a family friend.  Because we had heard so much about it, we were eager to try this new thing out for ourselves.  My brother and sister-in-law, who also had one, were generous enough to let us borrow their Wii fit balance board and game to use with it.  Our family loved it.  We were able to play a variety of new things now, thanks to the addition to the gaming system. 

After Christmas, we returned my brother’s Wii fit items to him.  To be honest, we were a little sad.  We had gotten accustomed to their game and balance board.  My husband suggested we purchase our own Wii fit game and board.  Luckily, we found one at a local store, just like the previous one we had been using.  But their was one difference.  The words, "Wii Fit Plus" were written across the front of the box.

When we opened the package up at home, we realized we had in fact, purchased the new and improved version.  Not only did it have all the same games we had learned to play, but it also had so many more new, unexplored ones.  We were elated!  Suddenly, we were able to forget the former system and reap the benefits of the new one.

“Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. 
See, I am doing a new thing!  Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?  I am making a way in the desert and streams in the wasteland.”
Isaiah 43:18-19

Similarities are found all around us as well.  I recall when the iPhone craze hit.  Countless people desired to purchase the newest phone out on the market.  Not too long after that, a new and improved version of the iPhone debuted.  People abandoned their previous phone for the new one.  It is the same with computers, cars, electronics and toys.  People are always seeking out the next new thing.

With the New Year quickly approaching, I cannot help but join the enthusiasm of others as we anticipate the promise and potential of what's ahead.  I look forward to many new experiences, new friendships, new joys, new accomplishments, and new revelations. 

On the flip side, I also understand that there will indefinitely be some new stresses, new heartaches, new struggles and even new trials.  

But I rejoice that I worship a God who revels in new things, too. 

Yes, He is the same yesterday, today, and forever.  Yes, He is constant.  Yes, He stays the same. 

But, He always longs to transform the old into something new.  Actually, it is one of the things He does best.

2 Corinthians 5:17 tells us, “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come!” 

God’s heart is to change each of His creations into something new and improved, something different than before, something fresh and original. 

He longs to give us a new life, a new name, a new heart and spirit, a new song in our mouths, and a new identity. 

He does this through a new covenant, a new and living way, through His death and our new birth. 

Then He gives us a new commandment to love one another as He has loved us. 

Each morning He pours out His new mercies on us. 

And one day, He will reign with all of us in a new heaven and on a new earth. 

What an incredible, new perspective on all the old ways of thinking and living. 

So, here’s to a very Happy New Year!

God, thank You that You are always doing a new thing.  Though You want us to remember and call to mind all of Your amazing past gestures in our lives, You do not want us to dwell there.  You want us to look forward and see the new thing You are doing now. 

I ask for a new work in my life today.  Help me not to be content to settle for the old revelations, old works, and even old victories in my life, because it’s what’s most familiar to me.  I look forward to all things being made new and improved by You.

He who was seated on the throne said,

“I am making everything new!” Revelation 21:5

Good Gifts

"If you then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask Him!" Matthew 7:11

It's Christmas morning and I am the only one awake in my house, waking up nearly two hours before my alarm clock was set to go off.  Apparently, the excitement is just too much for me!  :)

Christmas.  The most wonderful day of the year!  It's the time when all the planning, all the preparation and all the presents align to make some very magical memories.

I absolutely cannot wait to see the girls' faces when they open their gifts in a little while.  Why?  Because this year we got them some really good gifts. 

Both girls will be getting their very own American Girl Doll.  Not just any ol' 18 inch doll.   Nope.  We went big and got them the real deal.

The gifts are a big sacrifice on our part.  They were costly.  They were extravagant.

So why such gifts this Christmas? 

Because we love our daughters.  Period. 

No, we do not spoil them.  No, we will not always be able to make this kind of purchase.  But...

This year they made no wish lists for material things. 
This year our family tried to focus on giving to others instead of receiving only for ourselves. 
This year we tried to revel in the joy and contentment of our eternal treasure in Christ versus the temporary trinkets of this world.

And as I wait for them to wake up, I can't help but wonder.  Will they know how costly their gifts are?  Will they understand the sacrifice we made?  Will their hearts be truly grateful for their gifts?

Hopefully, their new dolls will become their best friends.  Hopefully, they will honor and respect the extravagant gift they've been given.  Hopefully, they will express great joy and gratitude when they receive them.  Hopefully, they will treasure the good gifts they've been given. 

And as these thoughts dance around in my mind this morning, I think of my Heavenly Father.  I can't help but wonder if He thinks similar thoughts of us and His good and perfect gift to us. 

Perhaps He hopes we will pause this morning. 

Take a moment to notice.  To remember His Son.  To give thanks for the costly, extravagant gift He planned in advance to give us thousands of years ago.  

Maybe He hopes to see great joy and great contentment expressed in our hearts as we awake to Christmas.  

After all, He's given us the greatest gift we could ever receive, His one and only Son.  Jesus. 

"Thanks be to God for His indescribable gift!"
2 Corinthians 9:15

Christmas 2011
Shortly after receiving their gifts!  Big smiles!

 



Coming Soon

For the last four weeks, our family has been participating in something we've never done before.  We've been observing Advent. 

Neither my husband, nor I, grew up celebrating Advent.  Neither of us were familiar with its traditions or meaning.  Though I'd read of other families who observed Advent and had even seen an Advent candle wreath in a church, I had no prior knowledge of what the season truly meant. 

This year I had to know.  I had to know its meanings and why so many observed it.  What I discovered and what I have experienced has changed me.  Forever. 

The word, "Advent" means "coming".  During the season of Advent, which typically begins four Sundays before Christmas and ends on Christmas Eve, we are reminded of our desperate need for a Savior. 

As we are celebrating His first "coming", as a baby in Bethlehem, we are also looking forward to His second "coming", as our Righteous King from heaven. 

Advent, as I am learning, is also all about waiting.  And nobody likes to wait.  We all want what we want when we want it.  Now.  Or maybe even yesterday.

Advent reminds us of how long the ancient Jews had to wait for their promised Messiah.  How they yearned for Someone to deliver them.  To heal them.  To redeem them.  To make all things new.

As they waited, they endured.  They endured even though they couldn't always see what God was doing.  They trusted.  They hoped.  They believed, all while they waited. 

It's the same thing for us today. 

We wait.  We endure.  We look ahead, and above, for the promise of Christ's return.  We wait with great expectation.  We hope for what we cannot see.  And in the waiting we are changed.  We become even more grateful for all gifts when they are finally received.

Focusing on the hope of Christ's coming is helping our family to slow down and remember how great His gift truly is. 

Each night as we come together to read the Advent devotions from Ann Voskamp's "Jesse Tree Journey", we are taken back through the holy scriptures.  We journey through Old Testament accounts and find significant meaning and prophetic connections to the One who came two thousand years ago. 

And because He came, we can come. 

We can come boldly and freely to His throne of grace.  (Heb. 4:16)
We can come to Him and never go hungry.  (John 6:35)
We can come, thirsty, and take the free gift of water of life.  (Rev. 22:17)
We can come take our inheritance, the kingdom which was promised for us since the creation of the world.  (Matt. 25:34)
We can come out of our boat as Peter did and walk on water.  (Matt. 14:28-29)
We can come and follow Him, becoming fishers of men.  (Mark 1:17)
We can come to Him when we are weary and burdened down with life.  (Matt. 11:28)
And our little children can come, too, because the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as them.
(Matt. 19:14)

He extends His invitation to us to come.  To come worship Him.  To come bow down Him.  To adore Him, Emmanuel, this Christmas.

If He never came, then we could not come.

Thank You, Jesus, for coming.  Thank You for Advent.  Thank You for the chance to focus on You.  Thank You for the chance to celebrate Christmas with more meaning and more depth.  I needed it.

"He who testifies to these things says, 'Yes, I am coming soon.' 

Amen.  Come, Lord Jesus." (Rev. 22:20)

Light It Up

The blinking, strobe-like lights nearly blinded us inside our dark car. 

Every time they kicked their little feet together, a myriad of colorful lights illuminated the blackness surrounding us.  The girls were amazed and easily entertained with their new shoes.  Especially at night.   

The first time they tried them on, though, was in the middle of the afternoon.  Daylight covered the room, making it difficult to see their new shoes do what they were promised to do.  Our advice to them:  Go find some darkness and light it up. 

They raced to the bathroom.  Lights off.  Door closed.  Pitch black.  Each time they stomped their feet, jumped up and down, or took a step, the room lit up.  The path was made clear in front of them and they could see where they were going.

Four years ago to the date, I found myself in a very dark place. 

Stumbling around, trying to find my way, blinded by the eclipse that surrounded my heart, spirit and mind.

For whatever reason, this mammoth black cloud had descended upon me and I could not see.

Could not feel.  Could not breathe.  As much as I tried, I could not, for the life of me, catch even a shimmer of light because of the cloud's looming presence.

As the days passed, I became more and more desperate for light to return to my little world.

I tried to pray.  I tried to read.  I felt alone.  I felt numb. 

Then one day, I decided to write out every scripture I could find pertaining to light.  When I finally finished, a long list of truths stared back at me.  A multitude of promises from the Light of the world Himself.  He, who merely spoke the words, "Let there be light" and radiance ruptured the darkness, inviting Creation to come forth. 

As I sat on the sofa in the stillness of a cold, December morning, I gazed at the white lights covering our Christmas tree and prayed. 

I asked the Lord to send forth His light and His truth to guide me (Ps.43:3).
I asked that the darkness would pass and the true Light would shine (1 John 2:8).
Above all, I asked Him to turn my darkness into light (Ps. 18:28).

Piercing light shattered the darkness above me, ripping off the cloak of heaviness and replacing it with His garment of light (Ps. 104:2). 

Out of the brightness of His presence, the clouds advanced (Ps. 18:12) and I could see.  Clearly.  The burden lifted and my vision was restored.

This is the season of lights.   Lots of lights.  Everywhere. They cover all three of our Christmas trees. They are intertwined around the greenery draped across my fireplace mantle. They encircle the columns on my porch outside.   Every time we plug them in, the darkness is pierced by the warmth of the lights.

We, who like Saul on the road to Damascus, have been blinded by the bright love of Christ are witnesses to the true Light who came into the world as a baby thousands of years ago.  As we follow Him, He promises we will never walk in darkness, but have the light of life (John 8:12).

There may be many this Christmas season who are not basking in the light of the Son.  For whatever reason, self-inflicted or otherwise, they have found themselves groping around in the darkness, cold and alone.  They are desperate to find the light at the end of the tunnel, promising the hope of something better ahead. 

They need to see and know, so they can put their trust in the Light. 

But they may only be able to do so when we go find some darkness and light it up.

Would I Have Turned Around?

Their bodies were covered.  Consumed with an infectious, oftentimes, incurable disease.  Skin so ravaged by leprosy, the mere sight caused anyone daring to come near to halt in their tracks.

Their hearts were broken.  Shattered by years of isolation, years of embarrassment, years of pain.  Lives spent shunned by their condition, desperate for someone, anyone, to come near.

Then He, the One they'd only heard rumors of, made His way to their village.  Closer and closer He drew near.  

Brimming with hope, the ten of them got up.  Up from their assigned places outside the village.  Though they kept their distance, they were compelled to meet Him.  

"Unclean!  Unclean!" should have been their proclamation.  But against all mandates, they called out to the only One who might not avoid them.  The only One who might see them.  Not for the label they'd been given, but for whom they might become.  Maybe, just maybe, He would help.

"Jesus, Master, have pity on us!"

He spoke just one command:  "Go, show yourselves to the priests."

Their instructions:  Go to the one person who has authority to declare you clean, if you think you have been healed. (Leviticus 14)

The problem:  They still had leprosy.  But, He told them to go.  So they did.  Filled with an unfamiliar, yet rapidly increasing faith, they went. 

Could this possibly be the answer to a multitude of prayers they'd prayed before?  Could this be the day God would hear from heaven?

*(Insert miracle)*

On the way, they were cleansed.  Completely.  Totally.  Healed.  All ten of them.

Inexpressible joy must have erupted from their shattered hearts.  Shouts of excitement had to burst forth from their lips.  Relief must have laced their troubled minds. 

Did they truly understand what this would mean in their lives?  No longer ignored.  No longer avoided.  No longer alienated.  No longer alone. 

Only one of the ten turned around and came back to Jesus.  Filled with the loudest praise, he could not contain his overwhelming gratitude.  Kneeling at His feet, he thanked Him.  Thanked the One who saw him and healed him.

The Miracle Worker's reply: "Were not ten healed?  Where are the other nine?" (Luke 17:11-19)

I nod in agreement.  Where were those ungrateful lepers?  After all they'd suffered, and all they'd seen, why didn't they all run back shouting, leaping and dancing?

It doesn't make sense.  That is until I put myself in their shoes--er, sandals.

Certainly there have been times I've prayed, but not praised. 
Times I've asked, but made no effort to acknowledge. 
Times I've inquired, but failed to extol.

I've stepped out in faith, walked in obedience, but neglected to stop and take notice when He intervened on my behalf.  Forgive me, Lord.  I don't want to be like the nine lepers.

During this season of thankfulness, I'm asking for a renewed, revived heart.  A heart consumed with gratitude for He is and what He has done.  A heart which continually honors the One who gives me great reason to stop and turn around, time and time again.

Moving Forward

"I prefer to fall back, not spring forward." 

This was my Facebook status last spring on the eve of Daylight Savings Time.

At the time, it was exactly how I felt.  Not just about physically losing an hour or gaining an hour in my day.  But more about the condition of my heart and mind. 

Ten months ago, I wished to stay where I was in my life.  Falling back to what was familiar and comfortable made me feel safe and secure.  And like most people, I happen to enjoy safe and secure.

Instead, I sensed God was about to move.  He was about to lift the cloud above our family's encampment.  Just like with the Israelites, this would be the signal to move forward.  Following Him.  To a new destination.  (See Numbers 9:15-23)

At the beginning of this month, Daylight Savings Time came again.  Graciously, we accepted an extra hour of sleep as we turned the clocks back in time before retiring for bed.

But in this season in my life, I struggled with the thought of going backwards.  I found myself wishing to press on.  To continue making forward progress.  Not to put this object in motion to rest.

Watching Lion King last weekend, reminded me of a conversation between two of my favorite Disney characters, Pumba and Timon: 

Pumba: It's like my buddy Timon always says: You got to put your behind in your past.
Timon: No, no, sit down before you hurt yourself. You gotta put your past *behind you*.

Either way, that's sound advice.  Even if it comes from an animated meerkat and warthog. :)

In the New Testament, the apostle Paul says it like this,

"But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus."

Paul knew he was in a chase, not just a race.  He was constantly moving forward when it might have been easier to fall back. 

At church we often sing a song entitled, "Moving Forward" by Israel Houghton.  Here are some of the lyrics:

"Not going back, moving ahead 

Here to declare to You, my past is over in You.

All things are made new, Surrendered my life to Christ 

I'm moving, moving forward. 

You make all things new.  Yes, You make all things new.  And I will follow You forward."

Each day as I surrender my life to Christ, I want to be found faithful.  Faithful to heed the lessons I need to learn.  Faithful to obey.

The alternative, as my wise friend once said, may be "another lap around the desert".

Forgive me for not caring to waste my days wandering in circles.  

As I understand it, there's only one way to get to the promised land in our lives.  One step at a time.  Moving forward.

"There are far, far better things ahead than any we leave behind."
~ C. S. Lewis

Favorite Fall Findings

It's the most wonderful time of the year.  At least it is for me anyway.  I love fall.  Without a doubt, it's always been my favorite season and this year I have found a few new reasons to embrace it even more.

For starters, I love the change in weather.  I welcome the chance to say, "Good-bye" to long, sweltering summer days and "Hello" to cool autumn mornings and perfectly pleasant afternoons.

I love seeing plump, orange pumpkins--whole and round, yet also carved and lit with candles.  My eyes are drawn to the vibrant, yellow chrysanthemums and petite, purple pansies I find all around me.  And there's something about a jolly, straw scarecrow that just makes me smile.

I love watching fall sports, too.  I love to cheer for my daughter and her softball team.  I love being a spectator at an occasional youth or high school football game.  And what kind of Georgia girl would I be if I don't root for the Dawgs as they go to battle each week on the gridiron?

I love the fact that for the most part, bugs have left us alone, weeds are virtually non-existent and our allergies are finally at rest.  We find we truly enjoy being outside this time of year.

I love planning and celebrating my oldest daughter's birthday each October and seeing both of my girls enter the land of make-believe as they dress up as their favorite character on the last day of the month.

I love the abundance of sweet treats (particularly the chocolate ones) I find lining the shelves at every store and supermarket.

And this fall, I've discovered a new love for apple cider, roasted pumpkin seeds, and my most recent favorite find--pumpkin bread.  Why have I avoided these delicious fall treats in the past?  All I can say is my taste buds certainly thank me now.  

Mostly though, I've found how much I love the change in the environment around me.  I love how bright and colorful nature suddenly becomes this time of year.  No more plain green.  In its place, we behold radiant reds, beautiful oranges, stunning yellows, and bright purples painted across the leaves of the trees.

Why is this?  Why do the leaves change?  The answer the girls and I read this past week in our science lesson was incredibly enlightening to me.

Here is my very basic, very elementary synopsis:

Because the days are shorter in the fall, less sunlight shines down on the trees.  This is a signal to the trees to stop producing food for the leaves.  Because the leaves aren't receiving any more food, they begin to die.  The chlorophyll (the stuff that makes the leaves green) ceases to exist and the leaves' true colors shine forth.  Soon they will fall off the tree and leave the branch empty--ready and waiting for new life to bloom forth in the spring. 

But none of this can take place unless the leaf dies.  No beautiful, bright glorious colors for all to enjoy.  No new life in the future.

"I assure you, most solemnly I tell you, Unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains [just one grain; it never becomes more but lives] by itself alone. But if it dies, it produces many others and yields a rich harvest."  John 12:24 (Amplified)

I, too, want to be a display of God's beautiful and wonderful handiwork.  I want His true colors to shine forth from my life.  Therefore, I must do what is necessary.  I must die to self, daily.  As hard as it is, I am promised a rich harvest if I do so.

Armed with this new understanding, I love fall all the more.  God is thematic.  He weaves His life and His sacrifice into creation all around us.  We just have to open our eyes to find it. 

With each new season comes the hope of change.  The previous season no longer exists.   Something different is right around the corner, waiting for us to find it.  From time to time, I confess I kind-of like different. Who knows?  Finding different just might become my new favorite thing.

Priceless Thoughts

I opened my eyes and awakened to my true reality.  Not the dream I just had.  Not the horrible nightmare I'd just lived through in the subconscious areas of my mind. 

With a rapidly beating, yet very grateful heart, I gave thanks for the new day and the two little lives who are still mine.  Still here in our home.  Still whole and healthy.  Still in need of my care.

I've heard that sometimes our dreams are manifestations of our daily thoughts, our daily concerns or our daily fears.  That would make perfect sense in this case. 

I think about my daughters constantly.  Nearly every minute of every hour of every day. 

What are they doing?
How are they doing?
Are they safe?
Are they protected?
Are they hungry?
Are they tired?
Are they prepared?
What do they need?
What do they want?
Are they listening?
Do they understand?
Are they learning enough?
Are they playing enough?
Are they hurting?
Are they content?
What are they thinking?
What are they saying?
How are they feeling?
How will this affect them in the future?
What kind of teenagers will they be?
What kind of adults will they be?
What kind of mothers will they be?

The wheels seem to be spinning on a never-ending loop inside my head.

As much as I try to tell myself I'm not really worrying or being anxious about anything, deep down I know I probably am.  As much as I try to convince myself I am trusting the Lord with every detail in my life and theirs, deep down I know I struggle with relinquishing control.  Is it possible you could relate?

As I lay in bed this morning, contemplating my dream, this verse came to mind:

"God, Your thoughts about me are priceless. No one can possibly add them all up. If I could count them, they would be more than the grains of sand." Psalm 139:17-18a (NIrV)

In thinking a multitude of thoughts toward my daughters, I realized I am, in fact, emulating my Father.  My Father, who thinks so many priceless thoughts of His children, that they cannot even be counted.  More than the innumerable grains of sand by the sea.

Unlike me, His thoughts are Divinely incapable of being consumed with worry, anxiety or fear.  He holds His children in the safe, secure palm of His hand.  He is sovereign and in total control.  His thoughts are not my thoughts, nor are His ways like my ways. 

His thoughts are higher than mine. His thoughts are for me, not against me.  His thoughts are full of great love.  He has thoughts only a doting parent could have for His child.

Time to refocus.  Time to think less on the weighty, burdensome questions and thoughts.  But instead, think on that which is "true, noble, right, pure, lovely, admirable, excellent or praiseworthy." (Philippians 4:8)

Concerning my girls, I'm choosing to think about such things:

What precious gifts they are...
How adorable...
How delightful...
How insightful...
How brilliant...
How entertaining...
How talented...
How kind-hearted...
How helpful...
How challenging...
How tender...
How perceptive...
How sensitive...
How obedient...
How strong...
How brave...
How bold...
How fun...
How loving...
How grateful and blessed I am they're mine.

These are my priceless thoughts about them. 

Broken Things

She walked in my room and stood in front of me with a sweet smile on her face.  Slowly she unclenched her fist.  Displayed in the middle of her tiny palm was a small, pink, broken piece of plastic she'd unearthed while playing downstairs. 

At first glance, her find looked insignificant.  Like a useless piece of trash.  Something to be discarded.  Something to be thrown away. 

So I suggested she do just that.  Toss it.  Throw it away.  Get rid of it.  Especially if it's unnecessary, if it's taking up space, or if it's in the way.  Especially if it seems to have no purpose.

Her response was compassionate and caring as she looked down at her newly-discovered treasure. 

"But Mom ... I collect broken things."

She absolutely does.  I find them scattered in various obscure places around her room--constantly.  Broken hair clips, misplaced necklace beads, lost bird feathers, old shopping receipts, torn ribbons, fragmented sea shells, unattached buttons.  She considers them her treasures.  I consider them trash.

As I opened my mouth to respond to her, I was suddenly rendered speechless by her words.  It was at that moment I heard a gentle whisper in my spirit saying,

"I collect broken things, too."

Yes.  He does.  Just like my little girl.  The Lord sees.  He notices.  He seeks.  He picks up and He holds all which is broken. 

He does not ignore.  He does not discard.  He does not toss to the side.  He does not throw out.

At any given moment on any given day, we might find ourselves in great need of repair.  Our hearts have been broken, crushed by someone or something.  We feel certain our life is just one big pile of rubble, ready and waiting for the waste removal truck to haul it away.  But take heart...

When the pain is the greatest, the Lord is most present.

"The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit."

Psalm 34:18

Thank you, Lord, for being so very close when we so very need it.  You restore and You heal. 

Thank you for being a collector of broken things.

Storytelling

Who doesn't love a good story?  Everyone does.  Right?  

It's why authors write novels.  It's why producers make movies.  It's why audiences buy tickets to Broadway shows.  It's why one generation recounts the past to the next. 

We all love a good story.  We all yearn to hear one.

Going to the library and returning with a huge stack of new books is one of my favorite things to do with my girls.  I love the feeling of having both of them nestled close to me on the couch or bed, eager to hear the first book read aloud to them.  These few, still moments together are a rich treasure--for them and for me.  As I open the cover and turn to read the first page, the magic unfolds as the story begins.  Characters are introduced.  Conflicts are identified.  The plot thickens.  A solution is found. 

Just last weekend, my husband and I went to see a newly-released movie at the theater.  After picking up the girls from their grandparents, they asked to hear all about the film we saw on the way home.  They clung to every word as I began narrating the details of the film.  Immediately, they were drawn into the characters' lives and the action that ensued.  They couldn't help it.  I was retelling a good story.

From the beginning of time, to the end of time, God has been telling us His story.  And He even used common, ordinary men to pen the words.  To record the details for all to read. 

There is a problem.  There is a villain.  There is conflict.  There is a Hero.  There is a resolution.  There is a final outcome.

Not only are we privileged to get to tell of and celebrate God's story, the unparalleled story of Himself, but we also get to be a part of it.  While He is ultimately the Author, the Director and the Producer, He invites us to be a part of the cast through a relationship with Him.  We get to play a role in the grandest and most famous story of all time, with the greatest themes of all time. 

Of love.  Of restoration.  Of redemption. 

As a result, we have the joy and responsibility to invite others to be a part of the production as well.  We can be storytellers, too.  We can conversate and dialogue, sharing with others the greatest story ever written, by the most renown Author of all time.

Listen, dear friends, to God's truth,

bend your ears to what I tell you.
I'm chewing on the morsel of a proverb;
I'll let you in on the sweet old truths,
Stories we heard from our fathers,
counsel we learned at our mother's knee.
We're not keeping this to ourselves,
we're passing it along to the next generation—
God's fame and fortune,
the marvelous things he has done.

Psalm 78:1-4 (The Message)

In our home, I am the calendar keeper.  The list writer.  The note taker.  The journaler.  The photographer.  The scrapbooker.  The blogger.

I am the one who records the events of our family.  It's my role to preserve what we've done, where we've been, what we've seen and experienced.  In fulfilling this, I create tangible reminders of our life as a family. 

I tell the story of us.  God's story through us.  The good and the bad.  The hard and the easy.  The mountains and the valleys.  The obstacles and the victories.

Wherever we are and whatever we're doing, my husband and I are making the effort to be intentional in seizing opportunities to tell our girls the great story of God and His Son, Jesus.  

Who is He?  What has He done for us?  How can we know Him?  How can we live for Him? 

In the words of our pastor spoken last Sunday, 

"Your life is a story. Whose story are you telling?"

Smart Phone Potential

My smart phone and I just recently marked our first year together.  We've had a good year.  She's still in one piece and I'm still grateful she's mine.

The sleek and shiny mini-computer was an unexpected, yet very much desired, birthday gift from my husband this time last September.  To say I was thrilled was an understatement the day we stopped to browse around the phone store, investigating the endless possibilities before us. 

After careful consideration, we selected the one I now carry with me.  As the salesman was preparing my phone for purchase, I listened intently as he began to convey to me the multitude of things I would be able to do with this new phone. 

I remember how incredibly lost I felt just turning it on for the first time.  So many buttons.  So many options.  So many places to go.  Everything was foreign and so new.  Just holding it up against my ear felt so strange.  So incredibly different from the standard flip phone I was used to holding in my hand.  Yet, I was eager to try it out.

Since it's been a good twelve months,  one might presume I have this small technological masterpiece figured out by now.  After all, I've had a year to play around with it, right?  But one might not understand that I'm no technological expert.  No ma'am.  No sir.  Not by a long shot.

Sure, I can make the standard phone call.  I can text.  I know how to take photos and videos.  I can post and upload to Facebook.  And I can access the Internet when I need to look up something or have a question that can only be answered by Google. 

But, I have yet to learn how to install a new app or even upload new music straight to my phone.  I can't download my pictures from memorable events to my home computer without assistance.  I don't even know how to utilize the GPS feature which would sure come in handy when I'm trying to navigate my way from one place to another. 

I constantly have to ask my technology-loving, technology-proficient husband how and where to locate things on my phone.  Bless his heart.  He understands so much.  I understand so little.  His exact same phone is loaded with a myriad of apps and he appears to use his phone to its maximum potential.  I don't.  I still have so much to learn. 

Which gets me thinking...

It would seem as if my smart phone and I have a lot in common. 

Similar to my phone, I am loaded with possibility and promise.  There's so much I am ultimately designed to be and do.  God has pre-programmed me with unimaginable potential.  It's how I was manufactured by His creative hands before my life ever began.  

Unfortunately, on most of my seemingly ordinary days, I don't feel I'm living up to the fullness of my design, just like me with my phone.  

Why is this?  

I believe a great deal has to do with apathy.  Some has to do with fear and intimidation.  And yet more has to do with my willingness, or unwillingness to surrender.  

Philippians 4:13 states that "I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength." 
John 15:5 reminds me that "...apart from Me (Christ) you can do nothing." 

As long as I continuously tap into the power of the Holy Spirit and rely solely upon Him, I can be and do all I was destined by God to be and do.  But without Him--apart from His leading and His presence--I can do nothing.  Absolutely nothing.

With that in mind, I think I'll continue to stretch myself with my phone--trying new things and attempting to utilize it to its maximum potential.  

Knowing it's been built for so much more, why would I want to settle for so much less?

Knocking Cancer Out of the Park

I can only imagine today was one of the most difficult and most challenging days yet for our precious friends, the House family.

This afternoon, six year old Brooks, underwent an extremely serious surgery to remove a cancerous tumor on his jawbone.  Back in June, Brooks was diagnosed with a rare bone cancer called Ewings Sarcoma and has been undergoing repeated rounds of chemotherapy to overcome this disease for the past three months.

(To get caught up with his story, read a previous post entitled, In the Storm.)

After an extensive, four-hour surgery today, the doctors were miraculously able to remove the tumor with clear margins, hopeful they eliminated all of the cancer from that area.  The bone graft was declared a success as well.  

Mom, Dad, big brother, Brady, and a multitude of family and friends, are currently rejoicing and lifting praises to God, their Helper and Healer in times of trouble.  Prayers have been heard and answered on behalf of Brooks and this sweet family.

"The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house (House family); yet it did not fall, because it had its foundation on the Rock."  Matthew 7:25

God, be praised for your presence, peace and comfort to the House family and especially to little Brooks today. We believe for continued healing in Brooks' body during the months to come.  Thank you for being the Rock, the firm place in the midst of storms in our lives. 

We ask that you give Brooks the ability and strength to knock this cancer out of the park, once and for all.  And as he crosses home plate, might we cheer and shout with joy, celebrating this amazing victory.  For your fame, God, and for your glory.  Amen.

One Month Down--So Much More to Go!

Well, it's official.  We've survived. 

The first month of our newest adventure--homeschooling here at Fort Academy, as we so affectionately call it--has come and gone. 

Who would have thought one year ago I'd be a homeschooling mom today?  Certainly not me. 

I admit I toyed with the idea eight years ago, when I left my full-time teaching position in a wonderful elementary school to become a stay-at-home mom.  But at most, it was a fleeting idea.  Honestly, I don't think I was ever truly serious about doing it.

Last January, that all changed when God started planting seeds in both my husband's mind and heart and mine to consider homeschooling.  I wrestled with the Lord about it for a couple of months, not sure I was ready and willing for such an enormous change in our family's life.  All the while, God continued to water those seeds because everything I heard, everything I thought, and everything I felt seemed to point in one direction--homeschooling.

I knew the choice to teach my girls at home would be a sacrifice.  I knew it would cause me to lose some things which had become somewhat important to me in the last year.  Mostly, I knew it would involve a lot of change, and instinctively, I balk at change.  I mean, when things seem to be going so well, why buck the system?  If it ain't broke, don't fix it.  Right?

But after much, much reading, much, much listening, and even much, much more prayer, I submitted to what my husband and I believed the Lord was leading us to do with our family at this time in our lives.  And strangely enough, the more I submitted, the more the desire to homeschool grew and blossomed within my heart. 

Today, I wouldn't have it any other way.  Seriously.  I mean it. 

The intimate time I get to spend with my girls is a treasure, time I won't ever get back this side of heaven.  Having the opportunity to hear their little hearts and talk about truths with them in a manner I feel I may have neglected in the past is such an honor.  Being the one imparting knowledge, assisting with assignments and encouraging their spirits is yet another gem I hold dear to my heart.  And of course, the teacher in me loves planning, preparing and seeing learning take place--everyday, any time of day. 

Because of all these things and so much more, I feel the most alive I've ever felt in my life.  The Lord is my passion.  My family is my passion.  Teaching is my passion.  Combine the three and it's like a combustible explosion going off inside my very own heart.

The Lord has been so gracious, allowing me the time to chew on all these changes and to live in His love, especially over the last month.  I am so grateful for His presence, His provision and His principles to practice and apply.

Even though I am technically the teacher here at home, I assure you I am most certainly the student.  I'm pretty confident I've learned immeasurably more than my girls probably have in the last month--mostly about dying to self, the importance of true encouragement, patience, forgiveness, consistency, perseverance, and mostly love. 

"If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love,

I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal.  If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing..." 1 Corinthians 13:1-2

Will we always homeschool?  Who knows?  I'm only confident that homeschooling is the right choice for us during this season in our lives.  I don't want to spend the time or energy worrying about the future.  Instead, I'd rather be present to delight in this new adventure with my family.  Celebrating each new milestone.  Eager for more, so much more.

Follow the Leader

I jump up and down.  You jump up and down.
I twirl around in a circle.  You twirl around in a circle.
I hop on one foot.  You hop on one foot. 
I march in place.  You march in place.

Whatever I do, you do.  Follow the leader.  It's a great game.  Simple to understand.  Simple to play. 

The game appears to be the most fun though, for the leader, the one demonstrating what the others should be doing.  If you've ever watched young children play this game before, you know it doesn't take long before a coup is formed.  The leader is soon overthrown and inevitably replaced by a new one.  Everyone wants the chance to be the leader.  Few want to follow.

Recently, I have been struggling with the challenge of what it means to follow.  Particularly, to be an authentic follower of Jesus. 

Unfortunately, in the world today, it seems being "Christian" has been reduced to labeling someone who is not an atheist, a Muslim, Jew, Hindu, Buddhist, etc, instead of one "who is like Christ". 

In the evangelical church, a "Believer" is described as one who believes in his/her heart and mind and confesses with his/her mouth that Jesus is Lord, the risen Son of God. 

But, being a true "Follower" of Christ takes the relationship and the commitment even further.  It requires action.  It requires getting up and going.  Walking the walk, not just talking the talk.

• In the New Testament, Jesus instructed twelve men to "Come, follow me" and they did, becoming His disciples here on earth. 
• Repeatedly, large crowds demonstrated great faith when they followed Jesus wherever He went, seeking healing and hope. 
• Jesus declared if anyone wanted to be His disciple, he must deny himself, take up his cross (a symbol of torture and pain) and follow Him. 
• He told the young rich ruler to sell all his possessions, give to the poor and then he could follow Him. 
• He taught that since He is, in fact, the light of the world, no one who follows Him will walk in darkness. 
• Jesus declared His sheep will never follow a stranger because they know His voice. 
• In the book of John, Jesus states whoever serves Him must follow Him. 
• After His death, burial, resurrection, and ascension into Heaven, His true disciples were called Followers of the Way. 
• Toward the end of the New Testament, we are reminded by the apostle Peter to follow in His steps as we live our lives today. 

"Everyone wants to benefit from the cross, but no one wants to follow. Everybody wants to go to heaven, but nobody wants to die."

A guest pastor spoke these sentences last Sunday at my church.  His words slayed me when I first heard them, as they describe my heart at the present time.

Naturally, I prefer the benefits, the privileges, and the rewards from being in Christ versus the sacrifices, the hardships, and the suffering.  But to truly serve Him, I must follow Him.  It's crucial that I die to myself and take up my cross so I can follow hard after Him.

How will following Jesus manifest itself during this season in my life?  I'm not sure.  But because I love Him, it makes me want to follow Him.  Wherever He goes.  Whatever He does.  

So today, I'm willing. 
Willing to trust Him. 
Willing to join Him. 
Willing to be content, following the leader.

Freedom

"F-R-E-E-D-O-M!!!"

It's what I heard my eldest daughter, Grace, yelling at the top of her lungs as she took off down the road all by herself. 

For the first time.  On her bike.  With no training wheels.

She screamed it with such relief, such exhilaration and such joy.  With every ounce of my mothering heart, I felt how much she truly meant it.  I couldn't help but jump up and down, rejoicing with her.

You see, it has taken much coaxing over the years for her to be willing to sit on her wobbly, unstable bike, let alone ride it.  She just wasn't interested.  She had other things she preferred.  But most of all, she was downright scared.  Scared to death she'd fall down, get hurt, and experience pain. 

algophobia--the fear of pain and discomfort

According to what I've read, an algophobic is someone who tends to overestimate how bad pain could be and/or the danger of any given situation.  In most cases, he or she gets very upset and loses control when the threat of pain is present.  The individual often starts to cry and usually expresses symptoms of anger, panic, terror, dread and extreme fear.  Ultimately the algophobic's number one concern in life is to protect himself/herself from unwarranted pain and discomfort.  When he/she feels safe and protected, all is right in the world.

Now I fully realize I am in no position to diagnose my daughter with a phobia, nor do I desire to have her labeled with one. 

I am not a physician, but I am a mom who has lived with my precious daughter for nearly eight years.  

I've witnessed a doctor's office visit in which it took three nurses to hold her down just to give her a shot.  I've seen the dread and panic she experienced this summer during swimming lessons and the death grip she had on the lifeguard when she was forced to go out where she couldn't touch.  

Hunched over, I have run alongside her, holding onto the bicycle seat because she pleaded with me not to let go.  

And I have held her hand multiple times when she desperately wanted to get her ears pierced, but in the end, didn't feel she had enough strength to go through with it.

Through it all, I have prayed for her and have tried to help her battle her fears.

I have reminded her that Jesus promised us that in this world we would have trouble (pain), but we can take heart because He has overcome the world (John 16:33). 

I have spoken the comforting truth that God is with us always (Matthew 28:20b). 

I have reassured her that God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power, of love, and of a sound mind (2 Timothy 1:7). 

But to someone who feels trapped, even enslaved, by their fears, it's a struggle. 

To believe.  To rest.  To relinquish control.  To trust.  To take a leap of faith.

So we continue to petition the Father on our daughter's behalf.  We consistently renounce fear in her life.  As we do, we step back and have the privilege of watching God unlock the shackles one by one around her heart and mind.  Every time He does, we witness a miracle. 

As difficult as the battles have been, the victories have been a hundred times sweeter.  And, in the past nine months, there have been many sweet victories.

We have seen Grace face her fears head on and with God's help, overcome them. 

Last fall, we were there when she pushed through her intense fear of pain and mustered up the courage to get both ears pierced.  We were also there when she didn't need to be wrestled down just to get a flu shot, but endured it with bravery instead.  And most recently this summer, we were privileged to witness our little warrior princess pedaling away freely on her bicycle, unencumbered by training wheels or fear. 

After all, it's for freedom that Christ has set us free (Galatians 5:1). 

"F-R-E-E-D-O-M!"  May it be a rally cry for us all.

"I prayed to the Lord and He answered me.  He freed me from all my fears."  Psalm 34:4 (NLT)