War Room: So Much MORE Than Just a Movie

Oh.My.Word!

As I type this post, I have just finished watching a 45-minute online event with the filmmakers of War Room. While they talked a bit bout the movie (And had some very cool things to share. Especially the story about how they "found" Miss Clara.) the bulk of the program was about the heart behind the movie. That is, a call for God's people to humble themselves and return to Him in prayer.

Oh, how we need HIM!

War Room is a fantastic movie. The acting is excellent. The filming is top-notch. The story line is remarkable - and scores a "zero" on the Cheese-Factor. (Which is crucial in my book!) But I could say the same things about a number of movies I have liked. And none of those other movies have captured my heart the way War Room has.
Because War Room is so much MORE than just a movie. I knew it was when I saw a pre-release screening in May, but listening to the filmmakers just now - and the heart behind the movie - has me bubbling up with excitement all over again. Seriously, friends, I feel like I'm going to burst.
The troubles in our world are too numerous to count. The condition of our nation, the state of our collective (im)morality, the outlook for our future if we maintain this path... It leaves me feeling so hopeless and overwhelmed.
But did you know each great movement in the Church was preceded by a great movement of prayer?
And I think we'e on the verge of another one.
We must join together, humble ourselves, repent, and seek the face of GOD in prayer. We must!

So I am begging you to join me in this movement. Because that's what I think War Room is - a movement. Tell your friends. Ask your pastor and church leaders to check it out. (There is another 45-minute online event on Thursday, July 16 at 1pm CST. I'd be happy to forward the email with link in it to whoever needs it. Or, I bet you could contact Lifeway and ask for it.)

Above all, please pray.
I have so much faith that God is in the middle of this movement and wants it to explode.
Please pray with me that HIS people will respond in faith and obedience.

And now, for a little taste of the movie. One of the funny scenes. :)

Can't We All Just Get Along?

One of my daughter's friends got engaged last week.
Elizabeth was so excited about the news she called me from camp while on her break to tell me.
Said it was all over Facebook.
So the next time I was on Facebook I went to her friend's page to get the details for myself. (Cuz she's a girl I love so much. And I wanted to congratulate her, too.) But when I got to her page I saw her posting about being sad because of some people's response to her news. Seems certain friends felt dissed because they found out about the engagement via social media, rather than a personal announcement - face-to-face, or at least over the phone. And they let her know how upset they were with her.
Mind you, this young lady has been in a residential treatment facility for the past I-don't-know-how-long for an eating disorder. She's hardly been able to flit around like a social butterfly. Rather, she's been struggling to get better, battling her sickness, and seeking healing. And somehow her friends feel like she should have contacted them personally to let them know of her engagement.
REALLY???

This friendship debacle reminded me of a situation I faced just a little over 15 years ago.
An instance in which I failed to meet someone's expectations with a certain announcement, and lost a friendship as a result.
I was a MOPS table leader and had just gone through a difficult time. At seven months pregnant I broke my left knee. That kinda altered the way I was able to do life! Fortunately, I had lot of great support - largely from the women at my MOPS table. The MOPS year ended and shortly after that, Matthew was born. Adjusting to life with an infant and a 4 and 2-year-old was challenging, to say the least. But after a couple of weeks I had enough time/energy to make a baby announcement. And I made sure to send it to all the ladies at my MOPS table - because I definitely wanted to let them know.
Annnnnnd, a week or so later I received a letter in the mail from one of those ladies. She was not satisfied with the impersonal baby announcement I'd sent. After the support she'd given me through my broken-leg days, she figured I would call or visit with the announcement. She went on for a while about how she believed I was de-valuing our friendship, and how let down she felt by receiving an announcement "just like everyone else."
That was probably right around the time I had a neighbor threatening to call CPS on me. (Joshua had made a habit of walking out the front door when I was busy with the baby, and she didn't think I could adequately manage my children.) So, between chasing kids and changing diapers I wrote a letter to K, apologizing profusely for hurting her feelings and asking for her forgiveness.
I never heard from her again.
I still think of K from time to time. And pray God will continue His pursuit of her heart. But I have yet to understand why a baby announcement sent through the mail was enough to end a friendship. And I often wonder, what would our relationship be like now - 15 years later - if we'd not fallen apart?

I share those stories to say this: If someone in your life (be it another mom, or somebody else) doesn't live up to your expectations, please give her grace. Maybe there is something going on in her life about which you have no knowledge. Maybe she can't do everything you wish she could do at the moment. Perhaps your expectations aren't as crucial as they seem.
Rather than lashing out, why not give her a call and share an encouraging word?

A word aptly spoken is like apples of gold in settings of silver.

Proverbs 25:11

It's Up to You

This Week with Grandma

You all know my grandmother is almost 98 years old, right?
And, as such, she struggles with a lot of things about which folks my age don't even give a second thought. In fact, they're things which bring her spirits down and cause her even to cry sometimes.
And I get so sad when she tells me about "another bad night" or her "achy legs." Wishing there was something I could do to lighten her load.

Well, yesterday her load was lightened a bit.

But it had nothing to do with me, or anything I'd done.

While Grandma was eating breakfast, her telephone rang. I ran into her room, grabbed the phone, hit the "talk" button and said, "Hello. This is Peg Sheaffer's phone." And the voice on the other end was one I recognized. It was a friend from Edgewood, calling to say. Hi!
So I took the phone to Grandma and announced, "It's Thelma!"
*cue: big smile on Grandma's face*

What happened next put a big ol' smile on my face.

I'm sure it was in response to Thelma asking something like "How are you doing?" that my grandmother started talking about her "bad" night. Only this time she didn't sound sad. In fact, she was laughing. Before I knew it, the two of them were laughing at each other's tales of woe regarding aging - including charlie horses and incontinence. The subject matter seemed a bit odd to me, but apparently among the aged it's fair game. Kinda reminds me of young mothers one-upping each other with labor horror stories, and diaper blow-out tragedies.
Anyway, after that phone conversation Grandma was in good spirits and ready to take on the day.

*cue the music*

I Can Do Better Than That

OK. I know God is into details.

I am well aware of His ability to do more than I ask.

No news flashes with those two pieces of information.

Why, then, I wonder? Why do I ask for so little????

Last week my grandmother decided she could no longer read regular-size type. Her eyes had been bothering her and she was getting headaches - and reading anything but "Large Print" just wasn't working. So I logged onto our library's website and found a couple large print books she would like to read. And I ordered them for her.
But one is not available at the moment and the other is coming from somewhere across the state - so it'll be a while until it gets here. And Grandma really wanted something she could read right away. (She reads to help herself go to sleep every night.)
Our local library has an entire wall of "Large Print" books, so I told my grandma I would go to the library and pick up something which she could begin reading right away. She told me a couple of authors to NOT choose, but other than that - she just asked me to get something that sounded good.
OK.
I have been reading some Francine Rivers' books lately, and I felt confident that Grandma would enjoy her books. So as I drove to the library I prayed and asked God to let me find one of her books on the Large Print shelf. I really wanted to find a good book for Grandma! I realize, you may think I was being a bit eccentric with this book selection. But, you have to understand. Reading is very important to my grandmother. And she has very specific likes/dislikes. I have checked-out and returned more than a few books which she rejected. And, with the way her spirits have been so low lately, I just really wanted to find a book which would be a joy to her. Get it?
So, anyway, I was going to the library and praying for a Francine Rivers book to be available in Large Print. And as I approached the shelf and searched for the "R" section, I was so happy to see one.
BUT I was over-the-top happy when I realized it was "Her Mother's Dream." Because that is exactly the book I am reading right now. (HE's into details!)
And it's just so perfect.
Because we can talk about the story as we're reading it together.
And that will make Grandma so happy.
Because she loves to talk about the books she reads.
So I grabbed the book off the shelf, checked it out, and raced back outside. And as I drove home I imagined God smiling earlier as I had prayed - perhaps with just a hint of teasing in His eyes. While I was asking Him to let there be a Francine Rivers book on the Large Print shelf, I imagine He was probably saying, Oh, sweetheart. I can do better than that!

I have been thinking about this encounter with God and the book quite a lot over the past several days, and I have come to the conclusion that - as a general rule - I ask too little.
Do you?
And I don't mean just the book.
It goes beyond that.
I was thinking about a circumstance in my extended family - in which I have been asking God to intervene. And I realized I'm asking too little. God is able to do so much more than "intervene." He can change hearts and renew hope and mend broken relationships - and bring salvation.
God provided the perfect book, when all I was asking for was the author. So I have decided I'm going to ask Him to do what I know He can do. I'm asking for complete restoration for my loved ones. I'm asking Him to change their hearts and bring them into a saving relationship with Himself through Jesus. I'm asking Him to take this situation which looks impossible, and to use it for His glory. To make Himself famous in their lives and grow His kingdom.
Because when it comes to God comforting hurting hearts, and showing Himself to the ones who are hurting - Oh! He can do so much better than that!

Are you ready to stop asking too little?

Caution: Just Because it says Tomato Juice...

...doesn't mean it isn't chicken liver.

Yeah. I discovered this truth the hard way.
That is, I have - in the past - used a cup or two of tomato juice from a large can. And - not wanting to waste the rest - I put it into a plastic container and put it in the freezer. The plastic container was an empty cottage cheese or sour cream container ('Cuz I didn't want to waste that, either. *wink*) and I wrote "2 c. tomato juice" on the lid, so I would know what & how much it was when I needed it in the future.
Smart thinking, right?
I thought so.

Well, the future came Saturday.
I needed that tomato juice for a recipe. So I took the container out of the freezer in the morning, and set it on the counter so the contents could thaw.
Every now and then when I walked past the counter I would stop and give the container - whose lid was labeled "2 c. tomato juice" - a little shake. You know, just to help the thawing process. I don't really know if that helps. But it makes me feel like I'm doing something useful. *ahem*
Anyway, after one of those stops I removed the lid so I could assess the progress of the tomato juice's thawing.
And what I saw?
Wasn't tomato juice.
It was pinkish-purpley, slime-y, and looked a bit meat-ish.
And I wondered, How on earth did tomato juice start looking like this just from being in the freezer??? In my mind I simultaneously began taking an inventory of the other things which are in the freezer, and believed I had found the answer to my question. You see, although I am typically the only one who ever even opens the freezer (I mean the big one in the garage. Not the little one attached to the fridge.) I know Josh sometimes put things in there.
For fishing bait.
There are a couple of containers of special salmon eggs in netting which I helped Josh make a year or so ago. (But I know right where they are!) And he has at times bought bait specifically for catching cat fish. Because he says they like really smelly chicken liver.
Wait a minute! Chicken liver?
That's when I put it together. The "tomato juice" I thought I was thawing out was actually smelly chicken liver for some poor unsuspecting cat fish. *Eeeeewwww!*
I quickly replaced the lid and took the container out to the garage where Josh was - Guess what? - getting ready to go fishing. I showed him the lid and said, "Please? The next time you use a container to store something like this? PLEASE cross off anything which is written on the lid."
He laughed at my misfortune and said, "OK."
I am trusting Josh will keep his word, and I will be safe from now on. But I felt it would be the right thing to do to caution all you moms of boys out there: Just because it says "tomato juice" doesn't mean it isn't chicken liver!

Oh, and, one other thing. If your boys take to fishing, encourage them to focus on carp.
Because, uh, they like canned corn. *ahem*

If We Would But Listen

This Week with Grandma

A few weeks ago my This Week with Grandma post was about how my grandmother had demonstrated to me the principle, Once a Mom, always a mom. And yesterday I believe I saw her living it out, once again.

This week has not been a good one for Grandma. Most days she has stayed in bed all day, including meal times - which is the time she really tries to be up. There were even two or three days in which she didn't check her email. And that's unusual. *I just have to include that tidbit, because I think it is so cool that my almost-98-year-old grandmother is active on the computer.*
Just not this week.

Anyway, yesterday she slept in later than usual, and was quite down - even when she got up. While she was eating her breakfast I sat down with her so we could talk for a few minutes. I wanted to get an idea of how she was feeling - physically and emotionally. And as Grandma relayed her woes I wondered how close she really is to the end of her life on earth. Then, with a sad look in her eyes she said, "But I've got to keep living until Sue gets better."
And I knew exactly what was going through her mind.
She doesn't want to be a burden.
Even in death.
See, my Aunt Sue is sick at the moment and Grandma is very concerned about her. I knew my grandma was thinking something like, Sue is sick. She has too much on her mind right now to also plan my funeral. I can't do that to her. Because - even on her weakest days - she is still a mom, and she's still thinking about her daughter before herself.
To set your minds at ease, I'm confident my aunt is going to be fine. She has an infection and won't be released from the hospital until it is gone. But I think my grandmother's concern is a bit out of proportion. It's that worry-gene we all get when the baby arrives, ya know?
Apparently it never goes away.
So I leaned in to my grandmother, put my arm around her shoulder, and spoke into her ear. "Grandma, that isn't your burden to carry. I'm here and I will do whatever is necessary to help. Aunt Sue is going to be fine. God is going to take care of us. It isn't your burden to carry."

How timely that just moments before the above conversation I had read this post from Kathy Troccoli:

go ahead...He can take it!

cast all your anxiety on Him because He cares for you.
1 peter 5:7

this is not like removing a shawl with female elegance. the Word here means hurling with great force.

so...the burden, the worry,--get it off your shoulders my friend.

it is not yours to carry.

then trust—and obey.

kt

These words are True. Even for moms.

Is there a burden on your shoulders today which isn't yours to carry?

A Day in the Life of a Mom...

I'm telling you, the fact that any of us moms ever complete our "to-do" lists is a minor miracle.
Can I get an Amen!, sisters?

Case in point:
I have this bill, which has been hanging over my head for weeks.
OK, really it's been sitting on the kitchen table.
Anyway, I have been meaning to take care it, but I couldn't pay it until I talked to Brian. Because I knew one of the charges on the bill had already been paid, and I wanted to be sure everything else was current. BUT, I didn't know the log-in information for our HSA account and I needed to get it from Brian. Only, by the time he gets home from work every day I'm making dinner and any thoughts of paying that bill - i.e. obtaining that log-in information - are long gone. And they generally don't return until the next day, when he's a work and I'm in the midst of daily "to-do" lists.
Well, and I'm not sure how it happened, Monday night I remembered to ask my hubby for the username and password. I wrote the information down on a piece of paper and put it on the table with the bill, so I would see it the next day and be reminded to call about my billing questions.

And guess what happened Tuesday?

I saw the note on the table, sat down at my computer, logged on to the HSA site, and found the information I needed. I was all set to call and finally take care of the bill.
Except? I didn't have my phone on me.
Soooooo, I wandered through the house looking for my phone and when I located it, I found a text message from Brian. "Can you check for dampness in Elizabeth's room?" (It had rained HARD Monday night, and her room is prone to leaking.) I was tempted to put it off, but figured if I did I would likely forget about it all together and - not wanting to let Brian down - I chose to take care of his request first.
Annnnnd, walking through the basement to get to Elizabeth's room, I came across another piece of dampness. That is, I discovered that Mindy had peed on the carpet. (Another consequence of Monday's storm. Mindy gets so freaked out by the sounds that she will NOT step outside. And rather than "holding it," well, she pees on the floor.) So, as soon as I checked Elizabeth's room, I spent 10-15 minutes cleaning up Mindy's contribution to my distractions.
Of course, while that was all happening and I was considering the question, How many things will stand in the way of me completing one stinking task? I realized - the whole scenario was a blog post in the making. And I simply couldn't pass up the opportunity to rant about interruptions share my experience with other women who will surely understand me.

The funny thing is, even in the process of typing this post: I have answered the door to talk with a salesman, to buy books which will help my boys (and me!) with their remaining years of high school; checked on Grandma a couple times and gotten her lunch; verified the hours for the recycling center because I remembered I need to take tree trimmings over today; AND eaten a few bites of apple to shut up my grumbling tummy. Because I haven't had time to get my own lunch. *ahem*

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a bill to pay.
And tree branches to recycle. And a book to pick up at the library for Grandma. And...

Is it any wonder our "to-do" lists never seem to end?

Faith of Our Fathers

I hope you had a nice day Sunday, celebrating fathers.
And today I want to share a preview with you of a movie which celebrates fathers - and their faith.

I saw Faith of Our Fathers at a private screening in May, and just loved it. The movie will be releasing in theaters July 1, and I strongly encourage you to go see it.
Faith building and father building. Good stuff!

If My Math is Correct...

...Starting today, I have been married longer than I was single.

I remember a somewhat intense conversation with my mother shortly after Brain and I were engaged, in which she was questioning my readiness for marriage. Was I old enough? Mature enough? Ready to take on the responsibilities of life "on my own"? And I combated her questions with the fact that when I was going to get married I would be the same age as she was - when she was married and pregnant with my OLDer brother.
Yeah. I really felt like I'd gotten her with my logic.
Needless to say, Brian and I did get married. Nearly 22 years ago. When we wanted to. When I was almost 22 years old. And, honestly? There have been moments when I've remembered back to the young woman I was at that time and have wondered, Why on earth did my mother let me get married when I was so young? I didn't know anything!

Fortunately, God has been around for all of eternity - and HE knows everything. HE knew the challenges Brian and I would face starting right on our honeymoon, and continuing through to the struggles we are encountering today. Though neither of us were prepared for the work we would confront as a married couple, God knew how to equip us. HE surrounded us with the right people at the appropriate time. HE led us to the places we needed to be. And HE filled us to overflowing with the grace we needed. For ourselves, and each other.

I've been a married woman for more than half of my lifetime. God has also been loving me for those nearly 22 years, and the roughly three-and-a-half years before that when I started following Him, and the 18+ years before that when I had no idea I needed a personal relationship with Him. And He has no intention of stopping. So - the way I see it - I have Brian's love for the rest of our lives on earth, and I have God's love for all of eternity.

And if my math is correct, that's a really long time!

Who's thankful with me for the enduring love and faithfulness of our Father in heaven???

My Help Comes From the LORD

This Week with Grandma

I started this week off praying that God would bring peace, and even joy, to Grandma's heart.

Then I was praying for her physical well-being.

By Wednesday, I was asking God to just let her bowels move.
Sorry if that's TMI. But it's reality around here.

When Thursday morning came, I was begging Him for mercy.
Mercy for my aching and discouraged grandmother.
Mercy for our broken world, and the broken hearts in South Carolina.

And as I recalled the diversity of my prayers this week, I was awed once again by the goodness of our God. From the seemingly insignificant request for a bowel movement, to the desperate plea for comfort in the midst of horror - I have full confidence that God was listening and acting.
To be honest, when I was praying for Grandma on Wednesday part of me felt a little silly. As if the God of the universe doesn't have more important matters which need attending? Oh, to be sure, He's got big things going down. But He reminded me in that moment of His attention to - and interest in - every little detail of our lives.
The thing is, nothing in our lives is too small or too insignificant to bring before God in prayer. Because He cares - about everything. And because He is able to tend to our needs - even while He's holding the rest of the universe together in perfect balance.

So join me, please, in praying for God's healing hand to cover everyone affected by the horrific shooting in South Carolina. Let's ask God for the freedom of Pastor Saeed Abedini, and the others who are being unjustly held in prison in Iran. Pray with me for our country and our world - which seem to care nothing for God, human life, or moral integrity.
But don't be shy about asking God for your "little" needs, as well.
He cares about your desire to have patience with your children.
God wants to hear your heart cry out regarding your need for wisdom with your teenager.
He knows you're depending on Him to provide a job, or a home, or a friend - and He's listening.
And that decision you need to make, which is a big deal to you? Yeah. He cares about it, too.

Therefore, let us pray. With trust that God will determine what is right, believing He is able to accomplish all things, giving thanks and praise to the One who holds it all together.

Praying for Them. And Myself.

I lay down to sleep two nights ago and grabbed a book off my night-stand. I often read a prayer from this book before going to bed - and spend time praying for my boys. But Tuesday night as I read, I found myself drawn to pray for my own heart.

Because of this paragraph:

Guard my heart so I never push my son away through my words or actions. It's impossible for him to be perfect, and I want to accept him as he is. He won't always measure up to my expectations, but I never want him to have to earn my love. May I give him grace, just as you give me, when he struggles or fails in any way. Make me faithful by your Spirit so he can see a glimpse of your perfect love and devotion in me.

excerpted from A Mom's Prayers for Her Son by Rob & Joanna Teigen (Revell)

I was in agreement with the prayer as written for my sons. To be sure. But when I read this quoted portion of the prayer, and thought about my desire to never do anything to push my sons away... I wanted to shout, AMEN! (Probably would have if Brian hadn't already fallen asleep.)
I find myself at a point of conflict frequently. My boys are becoming men. They need to be held to a higher standard of accountability. More is required of them as their freedoms increase.
And this is good.
It is as it should be.
BUT, I don't ever want to make them feel as though they are not good enough. I never want them to think I'll only love them if they meet conditions x, y, and z. As I am calling them to a higher place, I don't want them to feel like I am looking down on them.
Can you understand my struggle?

So, once more, I get on my knees and ask God to work in me all these things which I cannot do on my own. I whisper a Thank you to Rob and Joanna for putting to paper the words which so clearly reflect my heart. (Actually, I'll go with a Facebook message. They're too far away to hear me whisper.) And I pray again, Father, please make me faithful by your Spirit so my boys can see a glimpse of your perfect love and devotion in me.

You can get your own copy of A Mom's Prayers for Her Son here.

Goin' on a Karen Hunt

Hmmmmm.
God's been giving me lots to think about lately.
Between alone times like this one and a couple of occasions with friends recently, I'm really starting to wonder who I am - and what makes me tick.
More than that, I long to discover who God wants me to be - and what He wants me to do.
Like, seriously.
And it isn't very comfortable.
The introverted part of me is quite content with the way things are. I love to sit in the quiet (Or walk in the sunshine!) and pray. And pray. And pray some more. I delight in the fellowship with my Father, and I love knowing He is actively listening - moving on behalf of these ones I cherish.
BUT, when I am in a group of my peers I am feeling more and more like I don't fit in. And, honestly? That feeling makes me want to retreat to a comfortable place by myself. Only, I'm pretty sure God did not create me to be a hermit. And I resist the urge.

So, I feel like I am caught between two worlds. My comfortable, alone world (where I can minister through prayer and I am free to be me - because no one is watching and I don't feel judged), and the rest of the created world (where my heart wants to make a difference but my body feels so timid).
What's really weird to me is that none of this struggle applies to speaking events/retreats. I love being in those settings. I thrive on the opportunities to present God's Word and to interact with the women who are present. It is as though this is a private challenge, rather than a public one.
Anyway, I'm feeling kinda stuck. I'm wondering what God wants to do with me. With my relationships. With my heart. He created me. He knows my introverted ways. But I am wondering if His desire is to stretch me. To take me beyond my comfort zone. To live a little differently than I have been.
So I am joining God on this hunt for who I am - asking Him to make me willing to follow the path He lays for me.

Any words of wisdom from those of you who've been here and done this? *smile*

Reason #4 that I Love Facebook

I get to keep an eye on my girl from afar.

Elizabeth has been at camp for two weeks now, and she's a busy girl. No time to talk to Mom on the phone.
And I get that.
I was a camp counselor and remember very well the absence of personal time. (Although she did sneak a text into me last week. *smile*)

In lieu of my daughter keeping me informed about what's going on at camp, I am checking Facebook every day. And am so thankful for whoever takes all those pictures and posts them.
Because I get to see things like this:

And this:

Those, my friends, are pictures of Elizabeth loving on a young lady at Friendship Camp.
Friendship Camp is a week for physically and mentally impaired folks to come to camp. And I have such wonderful memories from those weeks as a counselor at Cran-Hill.
That's why it delighted my heart so much to see these pictures of my daughter. Because I can see the love of Jesus flowing through her to that sweet girl. I know God is growing Elizabeth's heart, even as He is loving on her new friend.
And I am inspired to pray more, and I feel like I'm participating in the adventure. Even though I'm a couple of hours away.

Yeah. So thanks, Facebook, for providing the forum for me to see my girl.
And thanks, CHR photographer, for taking and posting the pictures every day.
And thanks, GOD, for everything You're doing in and through my daughter.

BTW, I happen to know there are spots available for summer camp. If you live in Michigan and have a son or daughter elementary - high school aged, I know a great place for them to spend a week!

The Parable of the Couch

This Week with Grandma

You know those times when stuff is going on, and someone is hurting, and you want to do something to make it all better, but you can't? Because there is really nothing you can do. As in, you've got no control over the circumstance, sista.
And it really stinks being in that situation. Because, ya know? You just want to make it better!

Welcome to my week with Grandma.

She's just not been feeling well. Between headaches, intestinal issues, breathing trouble, and dizziness, it seems this week there has always been something wrong. Yesterday when she woke up she simply told me, "I'm not gonna make it today." Which means, she doesn't have enough energy/desire to get out of bed and come to the table to eat. So, as I've done on other days this week, I bring to her whatever she thinks she can eat, I bring her newspaper into her, and I check in every now and then to see if there is anything else she needs.
Grandma's typical response is something like, "Just go about your day as usual. I'll be OK." Only, I know she isn't OK, and my heart is sad for her.
Although Grandma spends time in her room reading the paper, working her crossword puzzles, reading her latest library book, and watching Megyn Kelly on FOX, I know she also has down time when she just sits there and thinks. When she remembers what she used to do and wishes she could do it again. When she wonders why she's still here - why God hasn't taken her Home yet. When she misses Grandpa. And her brothers and sisters. And so many friends who have already gone.
And even though we spend time talking, and she enjoys the birds which come to the feeders Josh has put by her window, and I do what I can to try cheering her up, I realize I don't have what it takes to make everything "better" for her.
So I pray. I ask God to fill my grandmother with peace, and even joy. I ask Him to help her trust that His timing and His will are perfect. I ask Him to comfort her with His presence - that she may know, even when she feels alone, she never is.
Yep. I've been doing a lot of praying for Grandma this week.
Because I know God listens.
And I know He cares.

Tonight I'm making a jello salad for dinner. It's one of Grandma's favorite recipes, which we came across this week - and she asked me to make "sometime." So I'm praying today that she'll feel well enough to eat it. And that, somehow, a simple jello salad will bring back happy memories and bring a smile to Grandma's face and heart.

Out of the Mouths of Babes, er, Teens

Isn't it the desire of every Christian mother's heart to hear her children quoting Scripture?

Accurately and appropriately?

Then, why is my heart not all warm and tingly right now?

Monday night I went into Matthew's room to say goodnight. And to, uh, remind him there was a kitchen full of dishes he needed to wash before he went to bed.
He was engrossed in a video, but assured me he would get those dishes done.
I said, "OK. Don't forget." And gave him the look.
Matthew looked back at me and asked, "Or what?"
And I said, "Or, I just might get up tomorrow morning, see the un-done dishes, and get a bucket of ice water to dump on you."
At that, my wise young man said, "Mom. Remember what God says: Do unto others as you would have them do unto you."

I congratulated my son for his appropriate use of Scripture. And we laughed together.
But I'm still waiting for the warm heart.
*wink*

Wait For It!

So, I have this problem issue quirk thing I do. My eyes have a tendency to wander in books. That is, when I'm reading a novel I often "accidentally" read the bottom of the page before I've finished reading the top. And when I'm reading my Bible, my eyes seem drawn to portions which I've underlined previously - instead of staying with the plan. So, to keep myself focused on one thing at a time I usually cover the unread portion of a page with my hand.
Gets awkward when I'm laying on my back holding a book in the air, covering the right page with my right hand and trying to only reveal one line at a time on the left page with my other hand. I *might* have dropped a book, or two, on my face at such times. *ahem*

Anyway, I was experiencing this dilemma on Monday during my quiet time. I was reading 1 Samuel 10-12 and as I turned the page at verse 5 of chapter 12 I saw something underlined at the end of the chapter. And can I tell you? Even though I immediately covered up the underlined portion with my hand, in my head I was having such a hard time staying focused on what I was reading. I just wanted to know, What treasure is waiting for me at the end of this chapter? Then I'd tell myself, Stick with where you're at. Pay attention to what you're reading now.
And back and forth I went.
Until I finally made it to verse 24.

But be sure to fear the LORD and serve him faithfully with all your heart; consider what great things he has done for you.

~1 Samuel 12:24

With my curiosity satisfied and my heart inspired, I recounted the great things HE has done for me.
*HE saved me at age 18 and has been patiently growing me ever since.
*HE has given me a wonderful husband and children. And has made the hard times with them wonderful by using them for good.
*HE has provided faithfully for our needs. Even when it seemed impossible to me.
*HE has healed wounds I never thought would have been treatable.
*HE continues to show me my broken places and makes me believe HE will make them whole again.
*HE has brought peace to my anxious soul.

Ahhhh, it was so worth the wait to get to those words. And the time of reflection.
May I encourage you today to take some time to consider what great things HE has done for you?

I Have Failed

OK, so I admit, I have never been a big stickler for table manners.

I mean, I know the "rules." I know how to properly set a table, and have taught been trying to teach my kids to do the same. (They think it's ridiculous. Why does it matter? Who cares, anyway???)
But I'm not a manner-nazi.
For instance, I don't put my napkin on my lap unless I'm at a nice restaurant. Even then, half the time I only do it because I see someone else do it and I think, Oh, yeah! Table manners would be good here.
I didn't know there is such a thing as a "wet side" and "dry side" of a table. And I had no idea it is acceptable to eat asparagus spears with your fingers.
But, once my kids were past their toddler years I required them to use utensils. I get after a certain son of mine about his habit of stabbing an entire piece of meat with his fork, rather than cutting it into bite-sized pieces. And I at least roll my eyes - if not chastise the culprit - when someone belches at the table.

However, since Grandma has joined us I have felt the need to step up our manners training. I mean, Grandma always puts her napkin on her lap. She never takes a bite of food until all have been served, and I have picked up my fork. And, heaven forbid she would ever put her elbows on the table.
At times I have simply pointed out her behavior, and asked the boys if they noticed. Or if they had any idea she was demonstrating a particular manner. You know, a feeble attempt at training. Other times I have asked them to remove their elbows from the table, or reminded them to take smaller bites. (I appreciate that they enjoy my cooking. But I'd like them to savor it a little. *ahem*)

But last weekend I felt like all my attempts have been futile.

Matthew My son asked if we needed forks when he was setting the table. At that moment, he only knew we were having bean burritos - which I allow to be picked up and eaten. But we were also having corn. So I told him, "Yes," we needed forks. And he chuckled because he often eats his corn with his fingers, too. (In spite of my wishes. *ahem*) I just gave him the look and went about getting dinner on the table.
As dinner progressed, I noticed said child picking up corn kernels with his fingers and popping them into his mouth. I immediately reminded him of the fork sitting to the left of his plate (Because that's where the fork should be placed.) and he reluctantly began using it. He also began his typical diatribe about the pointlessness of manners. Including a call to not conform to society. *insert eye roll*
Moments later - while the discussion of table manners was still taking place - I asked him to use his fork and knife with his burrito, instead of ripping it apart into tiny pieces with his fingers.
His response? "But if I take bigger pieces, I won't be able to talk while I'm eating!"

I looked at Brian and mouthed, "I have failed."

I Don't Understand

This Week With Grandma

I remember when my children were young - being encouraged to "enjoy every moment" because "it goes so fast."

And there were those who consoled me upon kindergarten graduation, because my babies weren't "babies" anymore.

The elementary years required lots of hand-holding (literal and figurative) as my children learned to take steps on their own; eager to grow up, but not quite ready to go it alone yet.

In junior high hormones were starting to rage and I was reminded of the need to guide my young 'uns through more changes. Though sometimes from a distance.

High school has brought more independence and often more distance. I can see my children becoming young adults, and feel them needing me less and less. Still, there are times when they come to dear old mom and dad for help, or advice, or just to share some good news.

Even our college girl - all grown-up-like and sprouting wings - has sought us out for godly counsel, and help with heavy heart-things. Though she is making her own way in this world, getting closer and closer to leaving the nest, she's still our girl.
And I'm cool with that!

The thing is, with all the talk from folks about the urgency to "enjoy them now" - and the implied warning that a day will come when we won't be able to enjoy them anymore - I've often thought this growing-up thing was to be feared. But this week with Grandma has convinced me I'm not going to stop being a mom when my kids move out of the house.
My aunt (Grandma's daughter) returned Wednesday from a trip she had taken overseas. Every day while she's been on this trip I have listened to Grandma talk about where she was and what she was doing. (Grandma had her itinerary, and was following it closely.) I've been updated on how the trip was going each time an email arrived in Grandma's inbox from my aunt. (Yes, my almost-98-year-old grandmother has a computer and uses email.) Tuesday night/Wednesday morning Grandma was watching the clock and monitoring flight statuses, saying things like, "Sue is probably on the way to the airport," or, "She must be in the air by now." And the two of them had a lengthy phone conversation Wednesday night to catch up with each other.
Grandma is almost 98. My aunt turned 73 on Tuesday. And, clearly, Grandma has not stopped being a mom. She is still enjoying her daughter.

What I'm saying is: my kids can grow up and move out. They can live their own lives.
But as far as it is up to me? I'm going to follow my grandmother's example and keep being mom.
To 98, and beyond!

Watch It, Buddy

Last Friday, a certain son of mine and I were having a conversation about smart phones.
This child wants to upgrade to the world of smart phones, but doesn't want to pay the difference. He was making a list of all the reasons he should have this device - some of which were starting to sound reasonable to me - but then he made a fatal mistake. He said, "Besides, 95% of the people in the world have smart phones now. And the other 5% are old ladies."
I am among the 5% with a basic phone (Not sure that's the real number. My son likes to pull percentages out of the air when he's trying to make a point.) so I chuckled and said, "Watch it, buddy."
He just huffed and said, "What?!"
And I asked, "Are you calling me an old lady?"
Let's just say, his response did not win him any points with me. *wink*

Whew! That Was Fast!

So, Sunday after I dropped Elizabeth off at camp, I had a two-hour car ride alone with my thoughts.

A significant amount of that time involved thoughts (which I believe were prompted by the Holy Spirit) regarding my character. In my mind I was reviewing some of my behaviors and motives, the things that make me tick, and trying to understand the underlying drive behind it all. It was just me, my thoughts, and God in the van - so I got real honest.
*read that: the Holy Spirit got all up in my business busy convicting*
In the deepest part of me, I just want to be a reflection of Jesus. I want to live a life pleasing to God, which brings Him glory and furthers His kingdom. But, alone there with my thoughts and the Holy Spirit, I realized that I am too often motivated by what people say or think about me. I admitted to myself - and confessed to God - my bent toward people-pleasing, and seeking the praises of man.
And it hurt.
The awareness of my sin - of falling short of God's standard - actually hurt my heart because it had me so conflicted. I mean, I really, really want to honor God. I do! But in my moment of honesty I had to admit that those nice things I hear people say about me really feel good. They motivate me to keep doing good things. So I'll hear more nice things about myself. And I'll feel good again.
For my glory.
And when I saw my sin so clearly, I was anguished. I began thinking about the sermon I'd just heard and realized I was living out the main point which had been presented. That is, the reality that there is a battle taking place in every believer. A battle between what our spirit desires and what our flesh will do.
Before I knew what was happening, I found myself asking God to change my heart. In fact, I believe my exact words were, LORD, please re-make my heart to be like Yours. Yes, break it and re-make it.
I paused for a moment to take in what I'd just requested.
Did I really want God to break my heart?
I decided to trust God to do what was best and returned to my prayer, believing God would do a good thing in His time.

*Fast forward about twenty minutes, to my arrival home.*

When I entered the house I was greeted with cold words - which burned. The words sent me into a tailspin of self-doubt and condemnation, even as I tried to reason them away by telling myself the speaker of the words surely didn't intend to wound me. I felt like I was slipping into an uncontrollable crying spell, and I did NOT want to go there. I begged God to help me, to give me strength, to calm my heart - to do all the things I could not do on my own. I was a mess and despite all my deep-breathing attempts, I could not contain myself.
For the next hour I drifted between my bedroom and the kitchen - preparing dinner amid crying spells, wads of tissue, and prayers of desperation.
And it became blatantly clear to me that God was answering the cry of my heart. Because I was broken.
B-R-O-K-E-N. Broken.
I found myself in a place where I was completely out of control, anxiously hoping for relief, knowing it wouldn't come as a result of anything I could do. I was - in that very moment - convicted of the fact that I cannot do anything apart from HIM. And as I fell further and further into despair, HE tenderly caught me and gave me a new place to stand.

In retrospect, I understand that the cold words which greeted me Sunday evening were part of a misunderstanding and lack of communication. A simple request and some follow-up conversation would likely have prevented the entire scene. But I believe God allowed it all to happen so I would be taken to that place of brokenness - where HE could speak Truth to my soul, and shape my heart. That is, after all, what I asked Him to do.
I just didn't anticipate such a quick response!
*wink*

Looks Like Her Dream is Coming True

I took Elizabeth to Cran-Hill Ranch on Sunday.

She's going to be a camp counselor there this summer and has two weeks of orientation before the first group of campers arrive. I was a counselor at Cran-Hill in 1991 and 1992, and am so stinkin' excited for my daughter. For the fun she'll have, the lives she'll touch, and the ways she is going to experience God.
It is going to be a summer like none she has ever had before. And I am thrilled for her.
I really am.
But I'm also a little sad.
See, for the past nine years I have taken Elizabeth to Cran-Hill - for a week of summer camp. And, always, at the end of the week I have picked her up and listened to story after story of the adventures she had at the Ranch. But Sunday when we checked in at the office I said to Mal (the camp director), "I'm giving her to you for a whole summer this time. Take good care of her."
Then we hugged and I prayed for her and we said our good-byes. And I got in the van to come home. Excited for the summer ahead of her, but saddened by the reality that she won't be home again until August 17. And will be going back to college on the 24th.
Elizabeth already has plans to spend next summer studying in another state, and the following summer she hopes to do an internship somewhere else. If all goes as planned, she'll be graduated and "on her own" the summer after that. Who knows if we'll even have the pleasure of her company for a total of four weeks in the next two summers, like we are this year?

All through her growing up years, Elizabeth spoke of a desire to have wings. She always thought it would be so wonderful to be able to fly wherever she wanted to go. If only she could grow a pair of wings.
The strange thing is, when I looked at Elizabeth walking away as I left camp on Sunday, I think I saw wings sprouting from her back.

Don't Forget to Remember

This Week with Grandma

Don't suppress your feelings just because someone else doesn't like them.

Share what's on your mind, even if it isn't popular.

Look out for the underdog. You might be the only one caring for them.

Give love. Even when you aren't loved back.

These are the things I learned from Grandma this week.
We sat for a long while at the table after lunch and Grandma poured out her heart. She talked about life and family, good memories and hard ones, joys and regrets. Occasionally she would say something like, "Maybe I'm talking too much," but I think we both know that wasn't true.
What a gift it was for me to be able to re-live some of those moments with her, to see into her heart, and to learn from her experiences. And I think it was good for Grandma, too, to be able to visit those memories once again.
I know the reality of our lives is that we're often too busy to spend an hour or more at the table. But what a beautiful thing it is to sit and talk. Better yet, to just sit and listen.
I wonder...
What would happen if we chose to set aside other things so we had time to sit with each other?

Need Help?

So, one of my children had a, uh, fender bender recently. No one was hurt, and no damage came to the vehicles. But there was a ticket issued.
Which had an associated fine.
Which has been paid.
We thought the situation was over. Until a notice came in the mail stating the correct amount for the fine, including a little line labeled, "balance due." The child has seen the notice - he's the one who opened it - and, yet, it sits on the kitchen counter waiting to be paid.
More than once I have asked the aforementioned child when he is going to take care of the aforementioned fine. Each time the child has made a non-committal response about taking care of it sometime. And each time, I have thought about how easy it would be for me to just do it - but known that to do so would not be doing the child any favors. He needs to take responsibility. I know that!
I had to help him with the initial fine because it required a cashier's check and he didn't know how to obtain one. So, we went to the bank together and got it. The thing is, I would be happy to help him get whatever he needs to have for the balance, but he hasn't asked.
And I'm not just going to do it for him.
If he wants my help, he needs to ask me for it.

Well, the other day I was looking at the notice sitting on the kitchen counter and pondering my child's inactivity - when I realized God was drawing me a picture of how our relationship sometimes plays out.
*I serve a God who can do anything. Any.Thing!
*I serve a God who knows what is best for me, who knows everything I need, and who can make it happen.
*I serve a God who knows how incapable I am to handle most of what life gives me.
*I serve a God who would gladly help me with it all.
I imagine He sits in heaven looking at me, and saying something like, Karen, when are you going to have that talk? Have you decided how you're going to handle that circumstance? That other situation still needs your attention. Have you figured out what you're going to do yet? You haven't forgotten, have you, that I am here and would love to help you with each of these things? I'm right here! All you need to do is ask.
It's silly, really. I can get so overwhelmed by the things I need to do, all the duties vying for my attention, that I just want to quit. Like a certain child of mine, sometimes I become inactive because I don't know what to do. And all that time God is watching me, waiting for me to ask for help.
If I would only ask - He would be there in a heartbeat to show me the way.

If I would only ask.

Is there something with which you could be asking God to help you?

More Than Words

When Moses finished reciting all these words to all Israel, he said to them, “Take to heart all the words I have solemnly declared to you this day, so that you may command your children to obey carefully all the words of this law. They are not just idle words for you—they are your life. By them you will live long in the land you are crossing the Jordan to possess.”

Deuteronomy 32:45-47

They are not just idle words for you—they are your life.

They are your life.

Is the Holy Spirit speaking as loudly to you through those words as He is to me?
I read this statement in Deuteronomy a week ago and it has been staying with me every day since.
And because I have been reading this journey Moses took with the Israelites since the end of March, I have become well acquainted with his passion for the Word of God. I have seen him doing (almost) everything "just as the LORD commanded," (There was that one moment when he hit the rock, which ruined his track record... Yet the consequences even made Moses' passion for obedience increase.) and I have found myself rooting him on, willing the Israelites to just trust and obey.
God had been so clear: If His people would follow His commands and obey His word, He would prosper them in the land He was giving them to possess.
It wasn't rocket science.
Obey God, and life would go well.

So as I tagged along with Moses and the Israelites, I was on board with his call that they obey God's word. Fully.
I echoed his charge to them, They are not just idle words for you—they are your life. After all, I had read about and seen the consequences of following (or not!) God's word, and along the way I became convinced of the necessity of knowing it and living it out.
I simply could not agree more with what Moses said.
They are not just idle words for you—they are your life.
But then the Holy Spirit nudged me to ask, "Karen, are you living as if those words are really true?"

Are you???

She Still Makes Me Smile

I've been doing quite a bit of observing over the past three weeks. Noticing the ways my girl is growing and maturing and becoming a beautiful woman of God. And I have just six days left to do it. (She's leaving Sunday for her summer job. Camp counselor. She's going to be so great in the LORD's hands!)
Anyway, with all this watching I've been doing, I have also been doing some remembering. That is, I have reminisced about some of the adorable things she did in her younger days. And I knew that I had blogged about one of them. So, as I prepare to say good-bye to my girl again, I am digging in my archives to share this fun story with you. This story which happened just over eight years ago.

Ever since she could talk, Elizabeth has expressed kindness and compassion with her words. In a journal I'm keeping for her, I often note the sweet things she says and does. Like the time I was feeling low and when I went to bed there was a note on my pillow which she'd written. She told me she loved me, God loved me, and she hoped I was feeling better soon. Elizabeth is such a sweetheart!
When it comes to her brothers, however, she can take on a very different attitude. She doesn't like them to get into her stuff. I understand that desire, and support her in it. It has become her standard, though, that they aren't even allowed to set foot in her room uninvited. I understand that desire, too, and agree the boys shouldn't go into her room when she isn't in there. But sometimes she goes a little overboard. Even when she is in her room, Elizabeth will get totally bent out of shape if one of her brothers enters without her invitation. It is because of Elizabeth's rantings and ravings about her brothers' need to stay out of her room that I got a BIG laugh Saturday, and determined I know her future career.

We were getting ready for Elizabeth's birthday party. She had invited several girlfriends over for the afternoon and we were busy putting up decorations, cutting out pictures, blowing up balloons, and sorting out prizes. Elizabeth was sure she had some stuffed animals in her toybox in her bedroom that would add nicely to the decorations, but we were both quite engrossed in our current duties and were a bit pressed for time.
Previously, we had tried to solicit help from the boys, but since they weren't going to be participating in the party they weren't particularly interested in helping with preparations.
Understandable.
So as I was standing there cutting up pieces of paper, I almost lost a finger when I started laughing at the exchange that took place between my kids. Elizabeth put on her sweetest face. The look itself almost said, "You're the luckiest little boy in the world for what I'm about to offer you!" She then said, "Matthew, how would you like to go rummaging through my room?" He immediately stopped what he was doing (I don't remember what it was. He was probably getting ready to pop a balloon or something.) and looked at her. Just as quickly, Joshua popped out from around the corner and said, "I will!" With that, Elizabeth sent the boys up to her room on a hunt for the animals she was sure were hiding there somewhere.

I stood there marveling at Elizabeth's skill to get these boys to do what she wanted them to do - something they had previously made clear they did not want to do. She didn't ask them again to "help get ready for the party". She gave them permission to rummage through her room. By putting a slightly different spin on the activity, Elizabeth got the boys to help. Besides that, she made it fun for them!
Within minutes they had returned with the animals in question.

I'm telling you, that girl ought to be in sales. I didn't ask her how she thought about her approach, and I don't know how long she'd been working on it. But she came up with it, and it worked.

That's my girl! *smile*

Happy Memorial Day!

This Week with Grandma

Some days are easier than others. Know what I mean?
This week has seen quite a few of those "others" for Grandma. A nasal infection seems to be the culprit - as it interferes with her sleeping ability, and the antibiotic she's taking to clear it up was giving her stomach problems. The combination of those two things left her feeling kinda rotten.
Not a good time.
Grandma's trouble, coupled with my own issues this week, have made for a cloudy atmosphere around my house. But as we sat down for lunch yesterday she held her hand out toward me (Because that's what she always does.), and I took her hand in mine and we bowed our heads to pray. As I always do, I thought about the things for which I could give thanks. I thanked God for Grandma's physical improvement, for her massage therapist who was going to be coming that afternoon, and for...
And for God's faithfulness.
Because His faithfulness is so good, and so complete, and so, well, faithful.

As I prayed those words I noticed a smile spreading across my face, which seemed to also be making its way to my heart. And I remembered part of the lesson from last week's Sunday school class - that it is impossible for us to have both a thankful and discouraged attitude at the same time. I remembered it, and I was proof of it. Because sitting there thanking God and meditating on His faithfulness had completely changed my heart.
Which made me even more thankful.
And put me on an upward spiral.
That's the beautiful thing about God and His faithfulness. When you start thinking about it - thanking God for it - your circumstances become far less important. You remember the ways in which God has carried you through previous trials, He assures you He's still the same today, and you find yourself confident that He's going to see you through whatever it is that's in your face at the moment.

And just like that, the "other" days become less frightening.
Because God is good.
All the time!

Getting Ready to Fight

Prayer has long been an important part of my life.
But even in the past several months, God is calling me deeper and deeper into it.
He is convincing me more of our need to call on HIM and trust in HIM for all things.
Annnnnd, smack dab in the middle of this passion HE is growing in me, here comes War Room. I had the opportunity to see a pre-release screening of this movie a couple of weeks ago and was immediately excited about it. Since seeing the movie I have been more aware of my own prayers, and more confident that God will show HIS power through them.
There was a man who stood at the end of the movie (in the theater where I saw the screening) and shouted, "Who will join me in this battle?" I think everyone stood in response to his (HIS!) call and I am eager to go forward in this movement.

Here's a look at the heart of War Room. Please take a minute to see what has gotten me so enthused.

There has been a call to pray for War Room this coming Friday, May 22. I am full of expectant hope for what God will do in our country and world through the movement which will be started by this movie. And I am going to be praying Friday. Would love for you to join me. You may find specific details here.
See you on the battlefield!

When Angels Come Knocking

Oh, the beauty of God and His gracious ways.

I was struggling fiercely on Sunday with depressive thoughts.
As in, I can't remember the last time I have felt so rotten. I kept "hearing" everything as an attack on who I am. Fighting off the lies with the Truth was physically exhausting me. In my head I knew this was a battle which has already been won. I knew I have the Holy Spirit on my side, and He will empower me with everything I need to overcome these conflicts.
Still, I was feeling low.
And going lower.
Couldn't wait until it was time to go to bed and start on a new day.
But Monday morning I woke up ready to go back to bed. Soooo tired. Monday never waits for me, though, so I got up and began my day. I was thankful for a fresh start, trusting in God's mercies which are new every morning, and hopeful it would be a better day. Yet, the cloud from Sunday seemed to still be hanging over my head.
Until...

An angel came knocking.
I was sitting at the table avoiding the laundry which needed folding catching up on Facebook (Yeah. That's it!) when there was a knock at my door. And in walked a friend. Her sweet spirit lit up the entire room when she entered. (It's a big "open" room. That's how bright her presence was. *smile*) She was just stopping by quick to bring me a couple things she had for me, and before she left she said, "Prayer?" I looked in her kind eyes, and I knew her offer was real. So I told her about Sunday. She put her hands on my shoulders and took me to the Throne where she asked my Father to lift me up.
And I realized He already was. God had been lifting me up from the moment my friend walked through my door. He knew what I needed, and He made it happen.

Before they call I will answer; while they are still speaking I will hear.

Isaiah 65:24

Oh, the beauty of God and His gracious ways!

When God Speaks Through Your Own Words

This past weekend I spoke for a women's retreat.
Since I didn't have time to record a video devotion before the retreat, I decided to have a friend capture a moment from one of my sessions to post for you. At this point, we were talking about Exodus 6:6-9, when God was speaking very encouraging words to the Israelites but they were so distressed with their circumstance that they couldn't hear Him. And I shared a story about a time recently when God used an interaction with my dog to remind me that sometimes I act the very same way.
BTW, one of the women in attendance lives in my neighborhood. She is the one to whom I was talking about Mindy.

May you have a wonderful, Jesus-FULL day!

This Week with Grandma

OK. So, I am convinced the worst combination of personality traits for any given task is to have a recovering perfectionist doing a job for a doesn't-realize-she-is-a-perfectionist. (When the recovering perfectionist is fully aware of the other individual's - uh - condition.) Especially when the task in question is one which simply cannot be completed to a perfectionist's standard.

And there you have the background information necessary to understand the exasperation welling up within my when I say:
This week, I faced the greatest challenge I have ev.er. faced while ironing a pair of pants.
As in, I was ready to cut apart and re-sew the stupid challenging pants.
See, Grandma was going out to spend the day with my dad and my aunt. She was so excited about it. Started thinking about what she would wear DAYS in advance. (That's where I came in.) Grandma wanted to wear a particular pair of pants, which needed to be ironed. And she asked me to do it.
I'll be the first to admit, I don't do much ironing. But I'm not afraid of it. And I was happy to help my grandmother in this way. You need to understand, however, that she is very particular. She always looks sharp when she dresses to go out, and I knew she would be expecting a top-notch job from her "laundress."
I fully intended to give her that high quality result.
So, there I am, lining up the seams in the leg of her pants. I pressed the back side of the leg. Got the crease just where I thought she would like it, being careful to keep the seam on the inside in line with the seam on the outside. But when I started pressing the front side of the leg something went terribly wrong. The crease wouldn't line up both above and below the knee if I kept the seams in line. It was like there was extra fabric in places it shouldn't be, and I'm all, C'mon! Ironing these pants shouldn't be this hard.
I began a personal debate inside my head. One side telling me to relax, let go of my perfectionist tendencies, and iron the crease in a crooked manner. Since that's the way the material seemed to want to go, anyway. The other side retorting, Oh, no. That'll never do. As a memory came to me of Grandma sitting in a chair, examining the crease going down the front of her pant.

And so the battles continued.

The one between myself and me - arguing about letting go of perfectionist ideals while realizing Grandma's standards were that high.
And the one between me, the iron, and the stupid challenging pants.
In the end, I did the best I could.
It wasn't "perfect."
However, Grandma didn't care. Or didn't notice. Or was too polite say anything. Anyway, she had a great time with her children. And that's what really mattered.

But I'm telling you, for the love of mental stability, never send a recovering perfectionist to do a job for someone who has a history of expecting perfection.
It might just send her off the deep end. *wink*

HE Knows

Several years ago I memorized Psalm 139, and God continues to speak to me through those words. Yesterday HE had me remembering verse 2.

You know when I sit and when I rise;
you perceive my thoughts from afar.

~Psalm 139:2

*Honest moment*
I love what I'm doing now. Staying home, taking care of Grandma and my family. But sometimes I get tired. Sometimes life's demands get big, and not all things go as planned. Disappointments happen, feelings get bruised, pride tries to rear its ugly head, and I get to top it all off with an achy back.
Yeah. I reached that point yesterday.
Er, Tuesday.
So yesterday I was trying to operate with a smile in place, and a cheery disposition. But it was so fake. I just wasn't experiencing inside what I was trying to portray outside. And I felt like a hypocrite.
That is, until God brought Psalm 139:2 to my mind and I remembered that HE perceives my thoughts from afar. I thought, You know how I'm really feeling, don't You, God. I can't be fake to You, because You know my thoughts.
By Gods' grace, I was alone in that moment and was able to just let down my guard and be real. I was comforted by the knowledge that HE sees me, and HE knows me.
It felt so good to know that I was known. God reminded me that HE knows it all.
And HE still cherishes me.

I'd love to say that after our moment together, I went on with the rest of my day happy as a lark. But I didn't. And that was really OK with me. Because, instead, I went on with the rest of my day confident that HE knows me. HE can handle my stressful days and overwhelmed feelings. And because of who HE is, I'm going to be just fine.

Thank You, God, for knowing and loving even me.

If you've been having days like mine, I pray these words will be an encouragement to you, too.

HE is Still at Work

Do you ever get the wrong idea about yourself and God?

Like, when He's using you in a particular situation, do you ever get the wrong idea that the work might not continue if you aren't there anymore?

As if HE needs you? (Instead of the other way around...)

I'd like to say I have never been there. But, uh, that would be a lie.
The truth is, I've been there more times than I care to remember.
The truth is, I was there just a few months ago.
And the Truth is, God is still at work.

You may remember stories I have shared here about a very special man from Edgewood whom I referred to as "B." This man stole my heart and I simply loved working with him - watching out for his needs, encouraging him to push his capabilities, and sharing our love for God. Honestly, when I resigned from my role at Edgewood part of me felt like I was abandoning him.
I mean, he was so special to me and we were making such progress. How could I possibly leave him now? What would come of the strides he had made in his recovery? (Do you see how I was thinking too highly of myself? *ahem*)

Well, last Friday I had the delightful opportunity to see B again, at Edgewood. And I'm telling you, my faith in God's faithfulness was bolstered like never before. The office administrator and the life engagement team told me all about the things they were doing with him, and the improvements he's been making. I observed their excitement and listened as they shared stories of what they're doing with B. And I thought, God, You're still at work here. You're continuing to do the good things in B which You started when I was here. It's YOU. Always YOU. I'm thankful for the part I got to play, and I am thankful that You are still at work. You are faithful, God!

My heart is peaceful, knowing God is good. I know HE will not abandon those who love Him, and those He loves. I know HE will continue the good works He has begun. I know HE has a perfect plan, and will bring it to completion. And I know all these things depend on HIM. Not me.
LORD, Your works are wonderful. I know that full well! Thank You for what You're doing in B - and all over the world. When You call me to participate, please help me remember that You are the One working. And my job is simply to trust and obey.

Her Prayers

Elizabeth is home!

Granted, in less than three weeks she'll be leaving for the summer. (She's going to be a camp counselor.) But, for now she's home. And it makes my heart so happy.

Wanna know what makes my heart even happier?

Her prayers!

The other night Brian asked her to say the prayer before dinner. And my heart was completely blessed when I heard the passion in her voice as she prayed for our little Compassion boy. I could sense her love and thankfulness for God, as well as her faith that He can do all things, just by the way she spoke. Now, I am fully aware that God is not concerned with whether our prayers are "eloquent," and He is not impressed by flowery words. But that isn't what I'm talking about regarding Elizabeth. It isn't our job to judge a person's prayer. I mean only to say hearing my daughter pray was evidence to me of how her faith has grown, as well as her relationship with her Father.
You have to understand, this is a girl who used to refuse to pray out loud. She was that timid. But now it seems prayer comes very naturally for her. I think because she's doing it regularly.
And that makes my heart so happy.
Another happy moment came when I was asking about Elizabeth's skin condition. (She has an eczema-type itchy problem.) She said it really hadn't been bothering her much lately. But even when it did flare up, she didn't mind. Because she has begun using the itching as a prayer cue for her friend. And I thought, You've started using prayer cues??? *BIG smile*

If you've been around me for much time, it is likely for you to have a strong sense that I love praying. I love fellowship with God - knowing He is present and listening and active and able to handle what concerns me. I love that He wants me to have this communion with Him! And to see Him cultivating the same thing in my girl? Well, I don't think there is any greater delight for this momma's heart.

Got Questions?

This Week with Grandma

She made me feel like a kid again.

A precious, cherished, watched-over little kid.

It was so sweet. *smile*

Tuesday night, Brian and I went to Grand Rapids to see a pre-release screening of the movie, War Room. You will definitely be reading more about that movie here in the coming weeks and months. It was UH-mazing. So good. Probably the best movie I have ever seen. Mark your calendar for August 28, because you're going to want to go see it.
So, anyway, we went to Grand Rapids.
Before we left, I told Grandma I thought we'd be home about 10:00. Movie started at 7, I figured we'd be on our way home by 9. So, I thought I was safe in saying we'd be home "around" 10.
Well, the movie and evaluation time afterwards took a little longer than I'd anticipated. And then we saw friends as we were walking out, so we stopped to talk with them for a bit. Annnnnd, it was more like 10:45 until we got home.
When we pulled into the driveway I could see Grandma's light was still on, so I decided to check in on her before I went to bed. And when I walked into her room, there was a look of uneasiness in her eyes. She said, "Did you have trouble on the way home?" I responded we had not. Then she said, "And you're just getting home now?" (When she asked that question, I realized we were getting home significantly later than I'd estimated for her.) I started to explain the delay when I thought I could see tears welling up in her eyes. So I sat down on her bed and hugged her, saying I was sorry for being late. She said, "It's OK. As long as you're safe. These are tears of joy."
And we just sat there for a minute with our foreheads resting on each other.
I imagined my grandmother looking at the clock for the previous 45 minutes, wondering when I would get home, worrying that something had gone wrong. Now, when I was a teenager and my MOM did something like that, it absolutely annoyed me. But to know my grandmother was thinking about me all that time, just waiting for me to arrive safely home - well, it blessed my heart. Not that I want to make her worry about me, but there was something very sweet about knowing she cares so much.

(Next time I'll call if we're running late. Guess I didn't learn that lesson when I was a teen. *ahem*)

A Letter to My Younger (Mom) Self

I received an email from a young mother this week, asking me to respond to a few questions. One of them was, "What advice would you give yourself during your children's early years, knowing what you now know?" And as I responded to that question (Besides getting an itch to write another book!) I had a yearning to go back and do it all over again.

If only I could...

But since I can't, I decided to write a letter to my younger (mom) self - in the hopes that someone will read and benefit from it while they're still in the trenches of having really young ones.

Dear Karen,
First of all, congratulations! If you are reading this letter, it must mean you managed to find a few minutes to get away in the quiet. I know these moments are hard to come by, but you did it. Way to go!
Now, let's make the most of this time, because you will surely be called back into action soon.
To begin, let me just remove some stress. You need not believe all those well-intentioned ladies who look at you with patronizing eyes and tell you there will come a time when "you'll miss these days." I know you feel guilty when you hear those remarks.
Let it go.
You aren't going to miss these days.
Oh! You will miss many, many of the moments. But you won't miss the entire day. So don't stress when someone says that to you. Just breathe deeply, ask God to give you strength for the day, and try to memorize the sweet moments.
While you're thinking about letting things go, may I suggest you rid yourself of that unreasonable expectation you have of being a "perfect" mother? It can't be done. Honey, you know nothing in life is perfect. So quit expecting that your new role as "Mommy" should change the course of history.
You aren't perfect. You never will be perfect. And that's OK.
By the way, none of the other moms around you are perfect, either. Truthfully, they're all struggling in one way or another. You don't need to go through your trials alone. Open up. Share with the other moms you know. You'll be amazed how much better you feel when you realize you aren't alone.
Being a mom is tough stuff. I know you know that. And, really, it's OK that you get tired; that you don't know what to do in every situation; that sometimes you want to run away. It's OK, Karen. Please let go of the guilty feelings you have when those moments come. God knows you want to be the best you can be. He knows you fail sometimes. You need not feel guilty about living through tough stuff. Let it go. You'll feel so much better.
And it will be better for your kids, too.
You need to know there will be challenges with your boys when it comes to potty-training. But, do not worry. They'll figure it out. Eventually. Actually, they're going to laugh one day about the fact that you used to give them M&Ms when they were learning to use the potty. And you'll laugh with them.
But forget about trying to get them to do their chores by rewarding them with M&Ms.
It won't work.
Oh, and Matthew will stop wetting the bed eventually, too. You're going to think the day will never come. But it will. Trust me. Just don't expect it to come before age 10. *ahem*
In short, my dear, you will do well to trust God more - and worry less. A lot less. God is faithful. Always has been and always will be. You're going to grow a lot in your relationship with Him as you go through the different phases and challenges of motherhood. It's going to hurt. Sometimes you'll wonder if He's still watching you. Be assured, He is.
Just keep holding onto Him. Keep trusting Him to do what He knows is necessary. And always - let Him fight for you!

I Can't Hold My Tongue Any Longer

OK, so I don't typically deal with hot topics or controversial issues here at Surviving Motherhood. That simply is not the purpose of this blog.
HOWEVER, with all the recent talk about gay marriage I have come across several "Jesus hung out with sinners" statements which I feel are complete misrepresentations of who He was and what He did. And I cannot sit by and say nothing. I just can't be passive on this one.

Please read my words as a plea to honor Jesus and understand His actions - not as an attack on the homosexual community.

I have read statements from people who were arguing in defense of gay marriage by pointing out that Jesus was a friend of sinners. Some commenters supposed that Jesus would attend the weddings of the gay folks with whom He was hanging out. And bake the cake. And take the pictures. I didn't read any suggestions that He would also be the "Best Man," but that was the path down which these comments seemed to be going.
I am not about to deny that Jesus was a friend of sinners. I am so thankful He is - because He reached out to me when I was lost in my sin. And I am not sure I can predict whether or not He would attend a gay wedding. What I am sure of, though, is that Jesus would not celebrate sin, or encourage people to carry on in it. And that's what really burdened me about the comments I was reading. People seemed to be equating Jesus' fellowship with sinners with His condoning of the sin.
Jesus hung out with sinners, yes.
But He did not celebrate their sin.
Rather, He called them to turn from it.
Consider, for example, Zacchaeus the tax collector. You can read his story here. Jesus was going to go to his house, and the people who knew Zacchaeus were shocked. Why would Jesus be the guest of a "sinner?" But Jesus wasn't going over to Zach's house to help him plan ways to steal more money from the people. In fact, something about just being in the presence of Jesus caused Zacchaeus to repent of his sin and promise to make things right. Jesus followed up Zach's proclamation by stating that He had come to seek and save the lost.
And save.
He didn't come to seek and further expel the lost.
He came to save them. (Us!)
What about the woman caught in adultery? Jesus came to her rescue. He got her accusers to leave her alone by telling them that the one who was without sin could cast the first stone at her. But once they had all left, Jesus didn't say to her, "OK. As you were!"
He told her to leave her life of sin.
And so it was with the Samaritan woman at the well, and the sinful woman who anointed Jesus. Jesus did not shun these women, as many of the "righteous" people around Him did. He forgave them, and He called them to follow Him. But He did not celebrate their sin and encourage them to keep living it.

Jesus was a friend of sinners.
BUT, Jesus did not promote sin.
Let us not get the two ideas mixed up.

Indirect Communication 101

Me: I had a crazy dream last night.
*Insert/imagine dream summary here.*
Hubby: Sounds stressful. Did it make you feel like you needed to curl up in all the blankets?
(Emphasis placed on "all.")
Me: It was. *pause* Oh. Did I steal your blankets?
Hubby: Just looked at me. Didn't need to say anything.
Me: Oops. Sorry.

It's how we roll.

For the record: I am really not a fan of indirect communication. Therefore, when I want to complain about his snoring, I come right out and say it. *wink*

Here We (Don't) Go, Again

This Week with Grandma

I have experienced lots of wonderful things while my grandmother has been living with us.
Reliving good memories (and making new ones!), hearing new stories, seeing faith in action, and being stretched (in good ways) - just to name a few.
This week I was able to see another wonderful thing. That is, the picture of a beautiful friend doing a simple thing, which made a big impact.
My grandmother has a friend - who is young enough to be her daughter. Over the years I have heard her name mentioned many times, and I've known she is special to my grandma. Because she is so kind. This dear woman makes sure that Grandma receives mail (And not just of the electronic type. She sends cards and notes regularly via snail mail, too.) and phone calls. She keeps in touch and helps keep my grandmother's spirits lifted.
Two weeks ago when they were talking, Grandma mentioned to her friend that she'd just finished reading a book and was confused about a couple things. Said she couldn't wait to talk with someone else who has read it, so she could resolve the questions in her mind.
So, Saturday this friend called for Grandma, and guess what? She had just read the book, and was ready to talk with Grandma all about it. They were on the phone for quite some time and as soon as she hung up, Grandma told me all about how sweet this friend of hers is. "She got that book and read it, just so she could talk about it with me!"
I've heard her repeat the story several times this week. She's told my aunt, the aide who comes to give her a shower, her nurse, and anyone else who will listen. That simple act - reading a book so a conversation could be had - meant so much to my grandmother. I think it made her feel loved. Like she mattered - and what she was thinking about mattered. Someone went out of their way to do something for her (simple as it was) and I don't think she'll ever forget it.

Makes me wonder how many opportunities we have to do "simple things" which would make a big impact. And how many times we walk right past them.

Let's keep our eyes open, shall we?