In My Fridge

When your son has a pet turtle and decides to feed it fish,
and the turtle gobbles up a few fish quickly,
but mauls the rest and leaves them for dead -
because they were all up in his face and the poor turtle got annoyed
(stupid fish!)
and when your son is also an avid fisherman,
and cannot bear the thought of simply throwing the dead fish away,
because they would make great bait for catfish,
(and because he spent too much money on the *stupid* fish)
then you might end up with this view
every time you open your refrigerator:

Seriously. In the door of the refrigerator. Eye level.
Yes. This is my life. *ahem*

We All Need Some Compassion

For the past five or six years, I have been sponsoring a little girl through Compassion International. Her name is Noemi, and she lives in Ecuador. I just got a letter from her two weeks ago, in which she reminded me she is about to enter the sixth grade. But when I first "met" her, she couldn't even write! I cannot believe how much she has grown and learned in our short time together.
It is my absolute joy to be a part of this sweet child's life. I am particularly thankful because shortly after my sponsorship began, her father died - leaving her mom to care for Noemi and Noemi's little brother on her own. So I know my support makes a difference not only for Noemi, but for her mother, too.

I have recently been given another delightful opportunity with Compassion. I am going to receive packets for three children who have been waiting for sponsors, and I am going to pray for them - asking God to bring the person to me who will sponsor each child.
That's where you come in.
Will you prayerfully consider sponsoring one of the children for whom I will be praying? All the details of sponsorship may be found here on the Compassion website. Basically, it's a $38/month commitment. Plus, you get to write letters and send pictures to your child, pray for them, and contribute gifts for birthdays or Christmas or other special occasions at your discretion. It is such a joy!

Please watch the video below to get a better feel for the importance and value of a Compassion sponsorship. And then, if God is tugging at your heart to invest in the lives of one of these precious children - please let me know.

Lessons in Showering

Friday I got a bit of a late start putting my first load of laundry in the washing machine, and just as I was closing the lid Matthew came charging into the laundry room with a groan. "Ooohhh! I wanted to take my shower before you started the wash." Seems he was getting a late start on his day, too. *ahem*
Now, he thought, it would be another half hour before he could get in the shower without having all the hot water used up by the washing machine.
"Now," I thought, "is a good time to let him in on a little secret."
So I explained to my shower-needing-son that the washing machine only uses hot water while it's filling up. That, in fact, in just a minute or two it would be finished filling and he could take a shower without losing his beloved hot water.
However, knowing my son the way I do - and understanding the workings of a wash cycle - I felt it necessary to give Matthew further instruction. I explained to him that the washing machine wouldn't be using any more hot water, but when it was finished with the wash cycle it would go into the rinse cycle - at which time it would use cold water. And if Matthew was still in the shower at that time he would get blasted with hot water. Which can be almost as unpleasant as an unexpected blast of cold water.

The following is a nearly word-for-word transcript of the conversation which ensued.

Me: Right away when you get into the shower, wash your hair and your body. That way, when you're standing there like this *insert image of me looking up to the ceiling in a mock-daze* and the water gets suddenly hot, you can turn it off and get out.
Matthew: Uh, OK.
Me: Better yet, when you get into the shower wash your hair and body right away, then turn off the water and get out. *insert image of me looking like I've just come up with the most brilliant idea of the century*
Matthew: Uh, that's no fun.

Yeah, because wasting standing under running water for ten minutes is like having a party.
*insert eye roll*

A Time for Self Examination

I used these verses to lead me in prayer and through confession. Perhaps they'd be helpful for you, too.

Who can discern his errors?
Forgive my hidden faults.
Keep your servant also from willful sins;
may they not rule over me.
Then will I be blameless,
innocent of great transgression.

May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart
be pleasing in your sight,
O LORD, my Rock and my Redeemer.

~Psalm 19:12-14

This Week with Grandma

I think I learned something new about serving this week.
You know Jesus' parable about the sheep and the goats, in which He teaches that when we do something for "any one of the least of these [His] brothers," we've done it for Him? That has long been a motivating passage of Scripture for me. The lesson in those words makes me eager to serve others, because I want to serve Jesus. And I have tried to help my grandmother understand that principle when she becomes self-conscious about how much I need to do for her.
I am happy to do it.
Because I would gladly do it for JESUS!
Well, lately her need has increased. Quite a bit.
She hasn't been getting out of bed much, and when she does get up to move around she needs escorting.
I hold her steady when she brushes her teeth, and sometimes I simply hold the pan and a cup of water so she can brush her teeth in bed.
She needs assistance pulling down her pants to use the bathroom - and most of the time she doesn't even go TO the the bathroom, but uses the commode beside her bed. It just makes more sense to use the commode by her bed - rather than expending precious energy walking across the hall.
And so I do these things for her.
It was one afternoon - in the midst of helping Grandma with these needs and listening to her apologize because I had to empty and clean the commode - that I discovered this new view of serving. I was thinking about doing it for Jesus, knowing I would do it with joy, and wanted to tell Grandma once again about this perspective. But then I realized, I could actually be doing it FOR Jesus. That is, I know Jesus loves my grandmother and He wants her needs to be met. He wants her to be well cared-for. However, Jesus isn't here in bodily form. He can't physically do the things she needs to have done. Instead, I get to be His hands and feet. That is, I get to serve on His behalf.
And that perspective just made my heart overflow with delight. Jesus loves my grandma and wants her needs to be met with love. And He has chosen me to do it. I get to do all this for HIM!
Yes, LORD. Whatever You say.

Have you ever considered this perspective on serving? How does it effect your heart and attitude?

Reneging

Soooooo, Mindy got her bath.

But it didn't happen Tuesday, as we had said it should.

And Josh didn't participate in the chore, as I said he would.

Yep. That's pretty much the way it played out. Brain said the boys should give Mindy a bath Tuesday and - in spite of his argument/other plans - I said Josh would be helping. Period.
But neither event occurred.
So what happened???
Let me 'xplain.

When I got up Tuesday morning, Josh's Jeep was gone. Which meant he was gone.
Gone fishing, that is.
As it turns out, the kid got up at 4:45 to meet his friend for an early morning catch. Yes, he is that committed to his obsession hobby. And when he got home in the early afternoon Josh was full of excitement about an opportunity he had to go fishing with another friend - in "20 minutes." I reminded him about the dog bath, but honestly - I was so wrapped up in the things I was juggling that I just didn't want to make an issue of it at the moment. So I settled for a verbal nod that the job would get done.
And when Brian and I got home Tuesday night from some work we were doing and Josh said, "Doesn't Mindy look nice after her bath?" I was totally ready to apologize for doubting him. Until I looked at the dog and saw she didn't look like she'd been bathed - and then I looked at Josh and saw that silly grin on his face. Yeah. He got me!
By then it was dark outside, and too late to send the boys and the dog out for a bath. So I figured the bath would have to happen Wednesday. (The thing I neglected to account for was that Matthew would be at driver's training all morning, and Josh was scheduled to cover the afternoon/evening shift at work.)
So Wednesday afternoon I made an executive decision and told Matthew to come outside with me to give Mindy a bath. Which we did. Because she needed it. And I wasn't going to make Matthew do it alone. However, in the back of my mind I was looking for something I could assign Josh to do - since he had managed to "get out" of washing the dog.

But as I began to ponder odd jobs around the house which need to be done, I got a picture in my mind of Josh outside Sunday night. He was digging up dirt, placing it around the driveway, and planting grass seed. And he was working hard at it. I asked Brian if he'd assigned the job to Josh and he said he hadn't. Josh was just taking it upon himself to do.
Then I recalled seeing Josh out Monday night with the hose - watering the grass seed. Without being asked. He even watered some flowers I recently planted.
As these images played around in my mind, I began to wonder if it was really necessary to assign him another job. Oh, we have some progress to make with regard to the way he responds to me when I ask him to do things, but I realized I need to see Josh for the good kid he really is. Sometimes (too many times) I get uptight about certain teenage behaviors, and I feel like I need to come down hard on my son. You know - make sure he knows who really has the authority in this house. *ahem*
But other times, God gives me pause to take my eyes off myself and my ridiculous desire for control - long enough to recognize that I really have good kids. And so, in light of the things Josh does around here (many without even being asked) I am officially reneging my claim that he has to help bathe the dog.
And I am not going to add a replacement duty.
Done.

Living on My Knees

My daughter sent me a text yesterday asking me to pray for her - and the girls in her cabin at camp this week. So I am praying! I am praying God will be glorified and that He will overwhelm Madi, Natalie, Alyson, Halie, Riley, and Elise with His love as He pours it out through my girl.
Then I got on Facebook, and I became aware of so many circumstances in which people need prayer.
So I prayed for Kimberly - that God would grant her wisdom, and eyes of faith to see where He's leading.
I prayed for healing for Weston and courage for his parents.
I asked God to fill Stephanie with the grace and strength she needs to get through her situation. Because I know she can't do it alone. She needs HIM!
I prayed for those 14-year-old boys who've gone missing in Florida while they were fishing. And for their mommas. 'Cuz I know their hearts are hurting.
I saw an update from a friend and understood why God had prompted me to pray for her in the morning. And I prayed for her some more.
Throughout the day, I saw yellow cars and red trucks - which reminded me to pray for Emma and Mike. My husband texted me to pass on a prayer request - so I prayed for Amber. I glanced at the clock at 11:11, and prayed for my husband. I checked the daily request for War Room, and prayed for the Kendrick brothers. And in my multiple interactions with Grandma, I asked God to carry her.

More and more, I am learning to live life "from my knees." Sometimes I really get down on my knees, face to the ground, seeking God's intervention. But usually I am up and moving, living life. Under the constant awareness of my/our need for God, and delighted that He wants to hear from us.
So today I want to invite you to join me in this move.
*Let us humble ourselves before Almighty God and acknowledge our desperate need for Him.
*Let us turn from our own ways and seek His, that we may walk in them.
*Let us call out to Him in each moment, trusting that He's listening and able to come to our aid. Even more, that He wants to come to our aid!
*And let us give thanks and praise to the One who is worthy.

I love the LORD, for her heard my voice;
he heard my cry for mercy.
Because he turned his ear to me,
I will call on him as long as I live.

Psalm 116:1-2

War Room is coming to theaters August 28. Trust me. You don't want to miss this movie - or the movement of prayer which I believe will follow.

Overheard on the Roadtrip

Josh and Matthew: Can you open the windows back here? Mindy stinks.
Brian: Yeah. She needs a bath. (pause) Hey! That would be a great job for you two tomorrow!
Josh: Correction. That would be a good job for Matthew. Josh will be fishing.
Brian and Me: (in unison) (practically) Uh, no. Work comes before play.
Josh: Not for Josh. He'll be fishing.
Me: Tell Josh if he blatantly disregards our instruction, he'll be sorry.
Josh: Josh doesn't care. He'll run away.
Me: Oh! Well then tell Josh he'll have to provide his own housing and clothing and food and... I don't think he'll like that option.
(Parental chuckling from the front seats.)
(Additional parental banter and warnings for "Josh.")
Josh: (over the sound of highway noise and parents) Josh can't hear what you're saying. He isn't even listening.

And so it is with our teenager. *ahem*

But, rest assured, he will be helping with that dog bath! *wink*

Because I Can't Do "All Things"

It is almost time to start preparing dinner as I type these words.
So far today I have prepared dinner for Friday and Saturday, made muffins for tonight, changed beds and washed/folded sheets (OK. There is one load finishing in the dryer right now. Er, it might be done. I need to check on that. *ahem*), taken my son to and from driver's training, stopped at the grocery store, and taken care of various other little tasks in preparation for a short trip I'm taking Thursday-Saturday. None of which have included preparing blog posts.
Soooooo,for the sake of my sanity (and to increase the likelihood of getting everything else done) I am officially putting this blog on hold until Tuesday, July 28.
LORD willing, I'll be home from my trip (I'm going to a suburb of Chicago to receive training in teaching Precept Bible studies. Can't wait!) and back into the swing of things by then.

And so, I leave you with this:

1 God is our refuge and strength,
an ever-present help in trouble.
2 Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way
and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea,
3 though its waters roar and foam
and the mountains quake with their surging.

Psalm 46:1-3

Let Us Pray

If you've been around here lately, you probably know I am over-the-moon excited about the upcoming movie War Room. Because it is all about prayer.

And if you know me at all, you know I am deeply passionate about prayer.

So, a few days ago when I watched this video and prayed this prayer - with one of the creators of War Room - I was moved all over again. Renewed in my desire for our nation to come before the LORD in prayer. More eager than ever to see how HE might use this movie to spark a movement of prayer like we've never seen before.
Would you pray with me now?

Mom to the Rescue!

Saturday night I was in the middle of an intense situation when my phone rang.
OK. I was playing Words with Friends on Facebook when my son called me Saturday night. But I'm kinda competitive. And I was working on a really good move. Probably against "Meatpiesi." And I'm tired of losing to him - so it was an intense situation. *ahem*
Anyway, I saw that it was Josh calling and figured I ought to answer the phone. When I did, I heard a somewhat stressed-out voice on the other end asking me to come to the fishing dock. Seems he'd accidentally hooked a snapping turtle while fishing and he needed help setting it free. And, yes, he wanted me to come right away. Never mind the very important business to which I was already attending. There was a turtle's freedom at stake here. And if you know my son, you know turtles rank above - well - above everything. It is also true Josh could've just cut the line and let the turtle go, but then he would never know if the hook came out. Besides, he would've lost his fishing lure. And fishing equipment ranks right up there with turtles, you know.
So, I did the only rational thing I could do. I jumped up from the table, told Grandma and Matthew I was going out to help Josh rescue a turtle, applied bug spray - and I was off!
I arrived at the dock to find Josh assessing the situation. And he quickly shared with me the game plan. I would hold the fishing pole while Josh climbed through an opening in the railing so he could stand on a board which ran under the dock. Then I would put the pole down and pull up the line to raise the turtle to within Josh's reach. Josh would grab the turtle as I let go of the line and put my arms around his waist, so he could grasp the hook and free the turtle without falling into the lake. Then Josh would release the turtle, grab hold of the railing, and I would release him.
To my delighted surprise, the idea played out just like Josh had prescribed it. Well, except for that one moment when I seriously thought I was going to lose my grip on him and send him swimming with the fish and turtles.
Oh, and before he released the snapper Josh asked me to take a picture. And what kind of blogger mother would refuse that request? *wink*

As I walked back to my van to go home I pondered, I just drove all the way out here to spend all of two minutes unhooking a turtle. Why??? And that smile right there gave me the answer. Even though I couldn't really care less about snapping turtles and fishing lures, to my son they're incredibly important. And if it matters that much to him, I'll always do what I can to help.
Because he's my son.
And I love him.

Are You Secure?

This Week with Grandma

*Whew!*

I'm feeling a little dizzy - due to all the ups and downs we've been experiencing.
A few weeks ago I mentioned that my aunt was in the hospital, and that Grandma was concerned about her daughter. Well, Aunt Sue is still in the hospital. And Grandma is still concerned.
That last sentence is a gross understatement, by the way.
I'll spare you the details and ask you just to trust me when I say - it's been a long journey.
BUT early this week we got an encouraging report from Aunt Sue's doctors/tests. I wish you could have seen how much Grandma perked up that day. Yet as hours and days passed without further good news, I watched her going down again. Each time a text or email came from Aunt Sue, Grandma would get a little rise. However, if the message wasn't sufficiently informative she would slip again.
So this week has had moments when Grandma's eyes had their sparkle and she wore a smile on her face. It has had just as many moments when her eyes have been filled with tears. She told me one morning as she lay in bed crying, "I'm angry. I'm angry at everyone! I'm angry at God, and the doctors. I'm angry!"
And I saw underneath that expression of anger something beautiful.
Something very, very beautiful.
I saw a woman who became a mother over 77 years ago - and the love for her children which has been growing every day since then. I imagined the days when my aunt was a little girl, perhaps in bed with a fever - and I could see Grandma kneeling by her side holding a cold cloth on her head, and rubbing her arm. I saw in my mind a young mother speaking comforting words to her little girl, probably singing something like On the Good Ship Lolipop. And the weak smile I imagined on that little girl's face would give her mother the comfort of knowing she was able to do something to help her baby feel better. Oh, the love of that momma for her children.

Yes, as I watched my almost 98-year-old grandmother crying and being angry at "everyone" - that is the picture I imagined. Because I have listened to her heart. I know her concern comes from years of loving her daughter. And I'm pretty sure the real reason she's angry is because she can't be by her daughter's bed tending to her needs and doing everything she is able to help her baby get better.
So, in spite of the dizziness, I am thankful for the picture of a mother's love which my grandma has given me this week. May I love my children fiercely, like she does - until I take my very last breath.

Beyond the Pits

Life is hard. We all know that.

Well-made plans get tossed aside by unexpected circumstances.

Perfectly good days are ruined by horribly bad news.

Otherwise happy lives become saddened by harsh reality.

In the end, a bowl of cherries leaves us with the pits.

And that's life. Right?

As adults we have come to expect the unexpected, and learned to deal with the disappointments. Sometimes things don't work out the way we'd hoped they would. You can't always have what you want. I've heard and said that line more times than I can count...
So in recent days when my son has been faced with the harsh reality of needing a new transmission and rear brakes for his Jeep - which means he owes his parents more money, and he can't buy the fishing gear he'd like - my knee-jerk reaction is to say something akin to,
"Welcome to adulthood, kiddo. That's life!"
But I've been thinking about my words and what kind of mark they're making. And I decided I really don't want to paint a gloomy picture for my son. (For anyone!) I have spent time despairing through my days, and God gave me hope in the midst of them.
Why would I pass on anything but hope to anyone else???
So, a couple days ago when Josh got up early to work for some friends to earn a little extra money, I sent him this text:

I know you're frustrated about your Jeep. And you'd rather be fishing than working. Not sure how God intends to grow you through this difficulty but I trust He will. And I pray He'll draw you close to Himself through it all.
I love you!

I know my words won't solve his problems.
He still has bills to pay, work to do, and fishing equipment to do without.
But if I can welcome my son into adulthood by helping him learn to seek God and trust that He's working good things - even when our circumstances scream otherwise - I will consider my job done.

Watch Your Mouth

I sat in Large Group on Sunday, listening to the lesson. It was about our words - how they can be helpful or hurtful. And the teacher shared that God wants us to use our words in a kind manner. To encourage and build up, rather than to tear down.
"Because words are a powerful thing," he said.
They stay with us long after they've been spoken.
I looked around the room at that moment, hoping and praying the kids were all listening. Because my mind had already gone back 33 years to the words spoken to me by a classmate in fifth grade. ("Spoken" that is, via a note passed across the classroom.)
She'd written:

The only reason you want (this) is because you can't have (that).
And you can't be different!

Yes, it has been 33 years. And I still.remember.each.word.

The thing is, she was right.
I had been trying so very hard to fit in. I wanted to wear designer jeans and Nike shoes - like the popular girls did. I couldn't wait until I was 12 and could get my ears pierced - like the other girls. I wished I could get hot lunch, instead of bringing my brown bag - because that's what most of the kids did. Oh, how I longed to be invited to birthday parties and sleep-overs with the favored crowd.
But, for the most part, I wasn't.
And with the reading of this note, I became aware that the writer (who was, of course, one of the prominent girls) was keenly aware of my want. More than that, with her words she was confirming my different-ness. Her confirmation hurt more than being kept out of the childish play-ground dare which had started the whole exchange.

So I thought of this circumstance from my fifth grade year, and really hoped all the kids in Sunday school (None of whom have made it to fifth grade yet!) were listening. I prayed God would speak to their hearts, so they might always use their words to build - and never to wound.
Because words are powerful.
They stay with us long after they've been spoken.

Remember that little rhyme we learned as children?
Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.
Well, I came up with a new one. It suits my experience much better.
Broken bones from sticks and stones will surely heal one day.
But scars and hurts from unkind words are likely here to stay.

As we returned to our classrooms for small group time - and talked about helpful and hurtful words - even as I willed for the girls to take the lesson to heart, I found myself renewing my own commitment to helpful words. My teenagers often challenge my resolve with their teenage behavior *ahem* and I must rely fully on the power of the Holy Spirit to stay the course. But, by the grace of God, I believe it is possible.
Yes, LORD, please guard my heart and my mouth. Please produce in me words of kindness, gentleness, grace, and love. That everything I say may honor You and benefit the listener.

"Live" From Cran-Hill Ranch

Did you attend summer camp when you were a kid?

And while you were at camp, did you participate in cabin clean-up?

Perhaps there was a friendly competition between cabins to see who could maintain the tidiest abode?

Well, that's the way they do it at Cran-Hill Ranch. Every day "Hektor the Inspector" travels to each cabin and awards up to 22 points based on the cleanliness (or lack there-of) which he finds. And while my boys were at camp last week, their cabin (Yes, a BOY cabin!) had a goal of scoring a perfect "22" every day. Unheard of for boys, you might say, but these guys were willing to do whatever it takes to be the Twice-reigning Champs. (They did it last year!)
Whatever it takes, including writing and recording a parody of Taylor Swift's "22".

Get ready for the boys of RC5...

Ode to Hektor the Inspector

You're in our room
We know what for
You're checking right when you walk through the door.

We just showed up
To clean up
Cleaning the way that we do for a 22.

Everyone else in the room can clean it
Everyone else but you.

Hektor you judge our room like nobody else
The way that you check our room gets us overwhelmed.
But when you look at the floor it's so hard to tell.

You don't know (oh,oh)
We're just a bunch of teenage boys.
If only you saw where we go pee
You'd understand why we scrub it so desperately.

Right now we're singing to you and we can't believe
You can't tell (oh,oh)
You can't tell we're teenage boys (oh,oh).
We're lookin' for that perfect score.

I Wasn't Expecting That

This Week with Grandma

Did you read the post about the book Grandma and I were reading together?
OK. So the post was more about God's power unleashed through prayer than it was about us reading a book together. But I needed an introductory sentence. And that one seemed to work. *ahem*
Besides, that was a really good post (Because of God - not me!) and if you missed it, I'm using this opportunity to send you to it.

Anyway, we both finished the book and enjoyed talking about it with each other. And we're planning to read its sequel. In the meantime, however, one of the books I had asked the library to send for Grandma has arrived - and when I read the description I decided I'd like to read it, too. So I checked out a copy for myself, and now we're reading another book together. And a really neat thing happened as a result yesterday.
We were having lunch and I brought up something I'd been considering as I read our new book. And, oh, if we didn't get into a wonderful conversation about it. The two of us sat at the table for a long while sharing our hearts. And some of the hurts which hide there.
As I sat looking at Grandma - listening to her heart, and wisdom about family and relationships - I thought, I am so stinkin' fortunate. Ninety-eight years of experience is sitting right here. Right here! And she's talking to me. Sharing with me. Understanding me. Who gets to do this???

I thought I was doing something nice for Grandma when I picked up that book for her to read. And when I checked out the second book, I figured it would bring her a little piece of joy. In my mind - it was all for her. And then I discovered the blessing is mine, too.

How have you been blessed by surprise?

This Isn't the Post I was Going to Post...

OK, honestly?

I just deleted the post I had written for today.
I mean, it was suitable. Had a few clever lines. Probably would have gotten a chuckle from some of you. But my heart wasn't in it.

And that won't do.

You see, I have been trying diligently to have new posts scheduled to go up every weekday. I even have a little pattern I try to follow: Monday-video devotion, Tuesday-something kid/mothering/marriage/family, Wednesday-something spiritual, Thursday-something kid/mothering/marriage/family, and Friday-This Week with Grandma. Not sure if you ever noticed.
Doesn't really matter.
It's mostly to satisfy the control freak tidy side of me. *ahem*
Anyway, I have recently been motivated to have less and less of me doing things - and more and more of the Holy Spirit running the show. Because I want everything I do and say to be a beautiful reflection of God. And that is only going to happen when I surrender completely to His Spirit.

Completely.

Including with this blog.

I want even the words I write to be of Him. I want the Holy Spirit to minister to the heart of every person who reads here - with His heart. Not with words I type just to fill space in the blogosphere.
So, from here on out - if I "miss" a day of posting please know that I'm not just being lazy. (OK, there's a chance that I am. But it isn't likely. *wink*) Rather, I don't want to waste your time with words that have no heart. If there are words on this blog, you may be assured you have been prayed for and so has the message.

May these words of my mouth (keyboard!) and this meditation of my heart be pleasing in your sight, Lord, my Rock and my Redeemer.

Psalm 19:14

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