Moving On

I've been blogging off and on for over 9 years.

I've been blogging here since 2009. Not always consistently, but I've posted here for almost 7 years.

I started out as The Happy Homemaker. And then switched to Wisdoms Pupil and for the past 5 years or so, I've been Stepping Out of My Boat.

I've grown a lot in the years I've been blogging. I'm really thankful to be able to look back on what I've written and know without a doubt that I have grown.

Something that I've discovered about myself is that I need purpose. I struggle to keep up with household chores that I just have to do over and over again. I forget to do them. I know that sounds silly but I am very Absent-Minded-Professorish. I would rather be working out a Biblical concept in my head or communing with God among the trees than folding clothes. I've grown in this area but I still struggle a lot.

This blog has given me purpose. It's given me a place to share things that I'm learning and thinking about. It's helped me to process those things. I've learned to use 'I' statements and to talk to people directly instead of writing a post about the situation.

This blog has been a voice for me when I really didn't have one otherwise. I tend to not talk a lot in group settings, and this blog has been a place for me to get my words out without feeling pressured and in a place where I can completely think through it before I 'say' it.

I feel like my life has moved on though. I feel like I keep trying to make this blogging thing work because it's what I know. It's my habit. It's a way to interact with people on my own terms.

But like I've said several times recently, I only want things in my life that God wants there. And I'm thinking that blogging isn't one of those things right now.

And so, I am releasing myself from any obligation to write here. I may write more in the future, who knows?! But for now, I'm moving on. This isn't something I decided today. It's been coming on for a while now. I've thought about it and prayed about it for a while and I just think this is the right thing to do for now.

Thank you for taking the time to read what I've written and to encourage me! I appreciate that more than you know!

Love,

Hannah

Personal/Family Update

God is working in our family. Isn't it amazing when it's obvious?! It is to me.

It just blows my mind that God would work in my life at all. That He would allow me to glorify Him. Not because He's not good, but because I am who I am. I have character defects and things I fall completely short in. And yet, He is working in me and in my family. 

Mind. Blown.

The kids are enjoying public school. They have awesome teachers and they are all getting to discover gifts and talents and interests. It's so interesting to see them grow. Some of them are doing course work 2 grades above their own. Some are struggling to do their grade level work. All are working hard, using whatever their level of academic talent is to the best of their ability. 

I've always wanted my kids to do better than I did academically. Don't get me wrong, I was smart. But I was lazy. Really, I want them to be responsible and do their best. 

Well, I just want to say upfront that I take absolutely zero credit for this, but they are responsible. They do their homework, they ask for help when they need it and they don't wait until it's report card time. They pay attention to their grades and if there's a problem they confront it. Immediately. 

It's an amazing experience to see them grow and work hard. 

Michael started a new job a few months ago and his start and quit times are flexible so he's been going in early so he can get off early. So he's been getting home an hour to an hour and a half sooner than he was previously. It's so nice to see him more!

About a month ago, I applied for a job. One. I have thought off and on about getting one but I made the decision that I was not going to chase one down. If God wanted me to have one, He would provide it. And He did. 

I saw and applied for the job on Wednesday around noon. I received a call around 4 that afternoon where an interview was scheduled for the next day. I was super excited but super relaxed. I only had one pair of close toed shoes and they had holes and unraveling of the stitching. But I wasn't worried because I trusted that if God wanted me to have the job, I would have it regardless of the shoes I was wearing. I also discovered that my most recent resume had been deleted from our computer and I wouldn't have time to redo it. Again, no worries! if God wanted me to have the job I would, with or without the resume. 

I went to the interview completely relaxed. I just wanted the outcome to be whatever God made it. I wanted to be sure that I was allowing God to open the doors and I wasn't building my own. 

My boss hired me within 5 minutes of the start of the interview. The hours are perfect. My coworkers are amazing. And I love my job. I basically go in there and file for 4 hours everyday. I get lost in the files and before I know it, it's time to leave. And my work is appreciated which is a HUGE blessing. 

God is also working in my marriage. Like, it's amazing. We are connecting like never before. God is obviously working in us and in our marriage.

Last night I lay in bed just thinking about how good God is. Not because everything in our life is easy or good. We have our problems. I still struggle with negative thinking and a host of other issues. But He is good. And He's working in us. In me. And you know how amazing and mind blowing that is?!?!?! There are just so many things going on and we are growing in ways that are absolutely not possible without God's hand.

In the last year, I haven't always been confident that I and my marriage were redeemable. I wondered if I could change and if our life could really be different. But it is. It really is and I am just sitting here in complete and utter awe of God's grace!

He's been so good to me!

Beautiful words written by someone else...

"Christmas art depicts Jesus' family as icons stamped in gold foil, with a calm Mary receiving the tidings of the Annunciation as a kind of benediction. But that is not at all how Luke tells the story. Mary was "greatly troubled" and "afraid" at the angel's appearance, and when the angel pronounced the sublime words about the Son of the Most High whose kingdom will never end, Mary had something far more mundane on her mind: But I'm a virgin!
       Once, a young unmarried lawyer named Cynthia bravely stood before my church in Chicago and told of a sin we already knew about: we had seen her hyperactive son running up and down the aisles every Sunday. Cynthia had taken the lonely road of bearing an illegitimate child and caring for him after his father decided to skip town. Cyntiha's sin was no worse than many others, and yet, as she told us, it had such conspicuous consequences. She could not hide the result of that single act of passion, sticking out as it did from her abdomen for months until a child emerged to change every hour of every day of the rest of her life. No wonder the Jewish teenager Mary felt greatly troubled: she faced the same prospects even without the act of passion.
       In the modern United States, where every year a million teenage girls get prengnat out of wedlock, Mary's predicament has undoubtedly lost some of its force, but in a closely knit Jewish community in the first century, the news an angel brought could not have been entirely welcome. The law regarded a betrothed woman who became pregnant as an adulteress, subject to death by stoning.
       Matthew tells of Joseph magnanimously agreeing to divorce Mary in private rather than press charges, until an angel shows up to correct his perception of betrayal. Luke tells of a tremulous mary hurrying off to the one person who could possibly understand what she was going through: her relative Elizabeth, who miraculously got prengant in old age after another angelic annunciation. Elizabeth believes Mary and shares her joy, and yet the scene poignantly highlights the contrast between the two women: the whole countryside is talking about Elizabeth's healed womb even as Mary must hide shame of her own miracle.
       In a few months, the birth of John the Baptist took place amid great fanfare, complete with midwives, doting relatives, and the traditional village chorus celebrating the birth of a Jewish male. Six months later, Jesus was born far from home, with no midwife, extended family, or village chorus present. A male head of household would have sufficed for the Roman census; did Joseph drag his pregnant wife along to Bethlehem in order to spare her the ignominy of childbirth in her home village?
       C.S. Lewis has written about God's plan, "The whole thing narrows and narrows, until at last it comes down to a little point, small as the point of a spear--a Jewish girl at her prayers." Today as I read the accounts of Jesus' birth I tremble to think of a the fate of the world resting on the responses of two rural teenagers. How many times did Mary review the angel's words as she felt the Son of God kicking against the walls of her uterus? How many times did Joseph second-guess his own encounter with an angel--just a dream?--as he endured the hot shame of living among villagers who could plainly see the changing shape of his fiancee?
       We know nothing of Jesus' grandparents. What must they have felt? Did they respond like so many parents of unmarried teenagers today, with an outburst of moral fury and then a period of sullen silence until at last the bright-eyed newborn arrives to melt the ice and arrange a fragile family truce? Or did they, like many inner-city grandparents today, graciously offer to take the child under their own roof?
       Nine months of awkward explanations, the lingering scent of scandal--it seems that God arranged the most humiliating circumstances possible for his entrance, as if to avoid any charge of favoritism. I am impressed that when the Son of God became a human being he played by the rules, harsh rules: small towns do not treat kindly young boys who grow up with questionable paternity.
       Malcolm Muggeridge observed that in our day, with family planning clinics offering convenient ways to correct "mistakes" that might disgrace a family name, "It is, in point of fact, extremely improbably, under existing circumstances, that Jesus would have been permitted to be born at all. Mary's pregnancy, in poor circumstances, and with the father unknown, would have been an obvious case for an abortion; and her talk of having conceived as a result of the intervention of the Holy Ghost would have pointed to the need for psychiatric treatment, and made the case for terminating her pregnancy even stronger. Thus our generation, would be too human to allow one to be born."
       The virgin Mary, though, whose parenthood was unplanned had a different response. She heard the angel out, pondered the repercussions, and replied, "I am the Lord's servant. May it be to me as you have said." Often a work of God comes with two edges, great joy and great pain, and in that matter-of-fact response Mary embraced both. She was the first person to accept Jesus on his own terms, regardless of the personal cost."

--from The Jesus I Never Knew by Philip Yancey

Imperfect

John the Baptists birth was a miracle. His mother was an old woman and barren when she was told she would have a child. His father became mute until his birth. He leaped in his mothers womb when Mary, pregnant with Jesus, walked into the room. John ate locusts...that's commitment right there. He baptized Jesus and saw the Holy Spirit descend on Him and heard God's voice declare that Jesus is His beloved Son. He declared the truth to Herod, despite the obvious danger in doing so.

His entire purpose in life was to prepare the way of The Lord. His whole life is wrapped up in Jesus.

And yet, at one point he sends his disciples to Jesus to ask if He is The One.

That is mind blowing to me.

He was human. He had moments of uncertainty.

Sometimes I think of people like John the Baptist as super human. If God chose them they must have been a lot better than me. And I'm sure he was/is...but I think it's kind of important to remember that the people that God chose were human.

Moses didn't get to enter Canaan but he got to hang out with Jesus on the Mount of Transfiguration. Jacob was a jerk but he was the father of the twelve tribes of Israel. Judah was apparently a flaky womanizer who didn't keep his commitments and whose daughter in law knew would hire a prostitute.

What if you knew a man who had slept with prostitutes? Would you trust him with ANYTHING?

Nowadays it seems like we only deem people who are seemingly perfect as fit for Kingdom work. But guess what?! Nobody is perfect. Those guys you think are perfect could very well be mired in some secret sin...or pride. Pride is not any less a sin than sleeping with prostitutes. And since it's less quantifiable, it can fly under the radar...which is dangerous.

We preach sermons about these men and learn lessons from their lives...but if someone just like them showed up in our midst how would I treat them? Would I get angry if they lead a public prayer or gave a lesson or lead a song? Or did any actual, real Kingdom work?

In a lot of my experience, not always, but a lot, when a man commits adultery and then repents, it's like he has a mark on his back the rest of his life. We never forget. We never trust him again.

But a man who committed adultery and then murdered someone to cover it up is called "a man after God's own heart". Not because he did those things, but he repented and loved God.

All I'm saying is, these men who we respect and hold up as examples were not perfect. They had doubts. They needed reassurance and sometimes outright rebuke.

Give these men another name and imagine them walking into a church service. How would we treat them?

One of the things that I love about Celebrate Recovery is that it's a safe place to confess sin and deal with it. It's not just a place of wishy washy people where we all sin and ignore it for the sake of acceptance. We confess sin, we point it out and we help each other overcome it. It's not a gossip fest or critical atmosphere. It's an open, honest and transparent atmosphere. We learn to be safe people. But safe people aren't passive people, safe people confront sin when necessary, but they do it for the sake of the sinner...not to make themselves feel better or superior.

The whole church should be that way. We shouldn't need Celebrate Recovery. We should all be safe people who help each other overcome sin.

Let's stop judging and holding grudges and love each other enough to take care of ourselves so we can help others. Let's be like Jesus.

On Being a Flaky Chick and What I've Been Reading

I've always found personality tests to be interesting, but I've never taken them very seriously. But I've changed my mind.

About a year ago, I started meeting with an elder at our church to work on spiritual formation. As a part of that I took a personality test which told me I am an INFJ or a Renewer.

The apostle John is my biblical counterpart, according to Your Personality and the Spiritual Life.

I think deeply, creatively and intuitively. I look for deeper meaning in situations and tasks. I need that deeper meaning to really commit myself. I live my present always mindful of the future.

The down side is that I experience a lot of loneliness and restlessness is often my companion. I am always looking for fresh challenges and opportunities. I become absorbed in my thoughts that I am not good at living in the present. I also have a tendency toward indulgence and overextension (um...I had 5 babies in 4 years...ya think?!)

A while back, I got this book out again because the kids took personality tests at school and I wanted to see what it said about them...mostly who their biblical comparison is. I decided to read mine again.

I know it's silly but it's crazy how accurate it is. I experience a lot of loneliness and for some reason knowing that it's just a part of my personality helps me cope. Knowing the deeper meaning behind it makes it more bearable. Knowing expressly what my weaknesses are better prepares me to deal with them, but also knowing that I do have strengths and being reminded of what exactly they are gives me a boost of confidence that I generally lack.

I'm saying all of this to just say that I've been struggling with my writing, with purpose general. I am struggling to stay committed to this. The thing about me that Michael really hates? I'm always willing to rethink things and change directions at almost any moment. Which means I can be what he would call flaky. Sometimes that's a good thing and sometimes it means I struggle to keep commitments...that I'm a "real flaky chick". I missed posting for the second time last week. I'm conflicted about whether this is a waste of time or if it's an exercise in keeping commitments even when I change my mind or direction.

Hm...I don't know. For now, I am going to keep my commitment if it kills me. :) For now.

What I am reading:

Just finished: Revolution of Character
Currently reading:  The Jesus I Never Knew and Sacred Rhythms

The Only Time I Will Ever Give Mothering Advice

You know what I NEVER think about? I mean, never.

You know what I NEVER get asked about on forms I have to fill out? 

You know what NEVER gets talked about at anyone's funeral?

Nobody EVER says, "Mrs. So-and-so was a good woman, she had all of her children potty trained at...(insert whatever age you want)".

Nobody says that because nobody cares. 

And you know what?! I NEVER think about how old I was when I was potty trained. Never.

Young moms get so much pressure. From books, magazines, PINTEREST, other moms, grandmas, random people at the grocery store and from themselves. It's ridiculous. 

Everyone has an opinion. But the thing is, God isn't going to mention how long it took my kids to stop having accidents or stop sucking their thumb or walk or sit up on Judgment day. You aren't a delinquent mom if your kid isn't potty trained until they're 4. Because, guess what?! God knows your heart. He knows you love that kid. 

I had one super easy kid to potty train. The rest were older and took a little longer. Two of them were downright tough and I had one who really wasn't potty trained for realz until they were 4. 

I wish moms...I wish I would stop listening to people tell me what my child should be doing. The things I'm most proud of as a mom, I had to buckle down, ignore all the noise and just do what my gut told me was right. The thing is though, I can only name a time or two when I did that. 

Our "babies" sucked their fingers until they were 8. I listened to the stories from other parents who had moved heaven and earth to get their kid to stop sucking their fingers and nothing worked until the kid decided to stop sucking them on their own...when they were around 12 or 13. For real, I don't know how many people have told me they were 12 or 13 when they stopped sucking their fingers. Anyway, I decided pretty early on that I was not going to stress about it. People made their comments and rolled their eyes but I just ignored them. And you know what?! They stopped sucking their fingers with very little effort on anyone else's part. There was absolutely zero stress, no tears and no sneaking behind my back. 

And you know what else? Nobody cares. It NEVER comes up in conversation. Except this one. 

I'm not saying don't take advice. Absolutely seek advice. But listen for the advice that you have to seek out, not the advice that is in abundant supply. Proverbs is filled with warnings about people who enjoy sharing their opinions and about how wise people are more judicious with sharing theirs. Also, peers can give support, but older women who are passed this point in their life will have a more long term vantage point. They will be able to see the effects of things instead of just what might work in the moment. 

Over the last year I have changed a lot as a mother. I have almost entirely stopped yelling. I do have slip ups but they are fewer and farther between all the time. The thing I realized? I was "freaking out" about really stupid things. I felt so much pressure all. the. time. I was getting all bent out of shape over things that ultimately don't even matter. So, I've started asking myself, will this matter in a week? A month? A year? Will I think about this on my death bed? If the answer is no to any of those, it's not worth getting upset over. Even if someone else is pressuring me or getting upset themselves. 

I don't think I've EVER heard an older woman say that they wish they had potty trained their kid younger. You know what I HAVE heard? That they wish they hadn't been so hard on their kid about potty training, or sucking their thumb or any number of things that we put kids on a timer for. 

Okay, I'm going to go back to NEVER mentioning this. :)

VIM

I deleted my personal Facebook account a while back. I ended up reactivating it because my Spotify account is linked to it and I love Spotify. So it's there but I don't check it.

I made the decision after getting some advice from an older woman.

I had recently asked for advice about something in a status update and I received a lot of really good responses but she suggested that instead of posing the question to, mostly, my peers, that I should seek out older women to ask.

I had actually been contemplating it anyway because Facebook triggers a lot of my character defects. Mostly, my insane inclination to compare myself to others. And so, after that conversation I made the decision to stop getting on my personal Facebook page but to keep my writing one.

The thing is, God has done so much for me. He has taught me, changed me. I honestly never thought that I could really change as a mom. But I have. In tangible ways.

The more I learn, the more I realize that I am deeply flawed and in need of His grace.

I desperately want Him, more of Him in me.

I want my soul's sole focus to be Him. Not me, not what I am capable of...I want to just act with my eyes on Him. Not the wind, not my head knowledge that I am entirely incapable of performing the task at hand. Him.

I want my thoughts to be centered on Him. I want every word, every action to spring from the well of Living Water that feeds my soul and molds my thought life.

I want my feelings to reflect His goodness and the peace that passes understanding.

I want to not ever seek my own good or glory but only His.

I want to shed the weights that hold me back while I'm running.

I just want Jesus. I want to weed out everything but Jesus.

It is my intention to submit to the work of the Holy Spirit, to hide God's Word in my heart, to study and meditate upon Him, to seek God with my whole heart, to set my eyes on Jesus--the Author and Perfecter of my faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.

I have a vision of my goal, the intention to journey the path and the means to get there.

God is good and powerful, He will do it. :)

Being Vulnerable...and Transparent

When I was growing up in the Central Valley of California we lived on a half an acre or something. We had a huge garden, a swimming pool, ducks, rabbits, chickens, several dogs, cats and a separate building that my dad (who is a preacher) used as an office.

He had so many books and didn't want to take up all the wall space with bookshelves so he created a maze of books in one corner. It was like a square enclosed in a larger square with books on all sides. The room also sported a large white board for my dad to work out sermons on.

I would lie in wait until I knew my dad was either gone or busy elsewhere and I would sneak out there to put together my own sermons and then preach them to my imaginary audience.

I don't remember any of my sermons but I remember that it was one of my favorite things.

I've always felt a little weird about being a girl. Really only in a spiritual context because I have been drawn to things I was taught are wrong. Like teaching the Bible in any forum besides one on one or "disciple"ing anyone. I'm not sure if I was taught this or if it was just implied (or maybe I misunderstood) but it was iffy for women to talk about spiritual things at all...if there was a man anywhere in the vicinity it was better to just leave it to them.

I'm not criticizing this belief system...I'm sharing information.

(I want to stop right here and say this. I am completely open to being wrong on any topic. I will not defend myself or be defensive. If I'm wrong I want to know it. If my heart, beliefs and actions can't stand up to criticism or a difference of opinion then something is wrong. I'm done defending myself as a reflex.)

I don't have any desire to "preach" in the public assembly of the church and I would not be okay doing that anyway. But I do think that I have a lifelong passion and desire for teaching the Bible and discipleship. When I take spiritual gifts tests...those are the things I score the highest in. I have absolutely zero desire to teach math or science. It's specifically spiritual things. And it's so strong that I just wonder if God put it there. I've really felt like I was a man in a woman's body because of this, I've wondered if somehow it was some sort of birth defect that I was born a girl instead of a boy.  I've always brushed these desires and inclinations off as something that could never happen and should never happen because it was wrong.

I no longer believe that.

I'm not saying I should be teaching anyone or mentoring anyone right this second. Maybe I need to take more time to grow spiritually before I take any steps in that direction. Or maybe this isn't what God really has planned for me at all. I don't know. Maybe I score high in those things because I want to do them and not necessarily because I am or could be good at them.

I'm just putting this out there because I've been seriously thinking about what I'm doing here and I think this is it. I think that maybe this blog is an outlet for this part of me. Not that I think I'm really teaching anyone anything, I think I've made that clear. But it's a place where I can share thoughts. I can talk about spiritual things without bothering anyone. Whoever wants to read it can, and those that don't...don't have to.

I'm not sure what will come of sharing this information. I might lose some friends or be written off as a lost cause. I don't know. But it's out there now.

It's really too bad that I can't recall any of my sermons. But maybe sermons are like songs...if you write one and it doesn't get stuck in your head it's probably not a good one. :)

How I Know God Is Good

We're back.

Souls fed, hearts full, skin brown.

We stopped to play in the Gulf of Mexico before heading to our boat. This is life with five wild indians. Beautiful. But messy too.
 
Our first day on the boat. It was just starting to get dark. Can you tell how excited we were to be there? We counted down 214 days. For a while it felt like it would never get here. But it did.

We got to eat lunch with this view! God is an amazing artist!

 Michael took advantage of the water slide. I think he enjoyed it more than the kids did!

One of our favorite things was the "Dive In Movie". There was a big screen above the pools and you could sit in a deck chair or in a hot tube or the pool and watch the movie. We got to see Avengers 2, Inside Out and Cinderella! All movies we had been wanting to see! Soooo much fun!

This picture does not do the beauty of it in person justice. It took my breath away. God is awesome!

They were so excited to be able to say that they had been to another country!

Playing on the beach in Cozumel.

And how we got to the beach in Cozumel. We rented a jeep that I'm pretty sure really only seats 4 people. But we stuffed all 7 of our hiney's in this jeep. Probably not a good choice. I found it kind of ironic. It was kind of a running joke at my high school that at lunch we would count how many Mexicans got out of a car. It was amazing how many people they would stuff into a car. It was like Mary Poppins pulling stuff out of her carpet bag. 

Obligatory shot in front of the ship. :)

I was lying on the beach in Cozumel when I felt something brush against my foot. I looked over to see this sweet little baby sea turtle making it's way through the sand. 

We loved getting to sit down to a nice dinner every evening. We chatted a little with the elderly couple in the background. They were celebrating their 48th anniversary. They were so sweet to our kids. Nothing wins my heart like people loving my kids.

This was in Progresso. At a little restaurant on the beach. Michael and the kids swam in the ocean while I guarded our stuff and sat in the shade. 

Our kids discovered prank calling and found great delight in it. But only between our room and theirs. Michael got them pretty good once by putting on an Indian accent and claiming to be Guest Services. :) Their prank calling skills improved significantly over the 5 days. Of course, when you start with "This is a prank call! haahahahahahahaahaha" there isn't far to go to improve. I want to reiterate that they only prank called us. :) 

Isn't God's creation beautiful?! I took both pictures because I thought the first one with the storm in the distance was so metaphorical and the second was just breathtaking.

This is Uriah utilizing his dance skills. The serving staff did dances for us every night and Uriah enjoyed helping them out. He's a little Fred Estaire. I mean, he really is. He picked up the dances like a pro. And then there's Elisabeth. Special in her own way! :)

Our whole family really enjoyed the family friendly comedy shows. We went to two. This one was an
improv one like Whose Line Is It Anyway? Michael got called up on stage and it. was. hilarious!!!! Technically this picture is contraband. Lilla was quick to inform me after I took it. But since I already took it...:/

We had so much fun. It was so refreshing. I literally didn't think about anything but the 7 of us and the moment we were in the whole time. It's like the whole world outside of the 7 of us just disappeared for a little while. But we are back now, and we are ready to hit the ground running. Everyone is ready to get back to work and school and the daily grind. We are ready to face life again. God is so good to us! Several times during the cruise I looked around at my little family and just thought about how blessed I am and how good my God is.

You know what's amazing?! Seeing my kids being good kids when I'm not there to "make them" and they don't know I can see them. THAT MY FRIENDS is how I know that God exists, that I matter to Him and that He is totally and utterly good.

Vacation

Our family is taking our first real vacation. We are super excited!!!

I am taking a complete vacation from my blog and all social media starting today through next Saturday, September 26. I am not going to fulfill my 2 publishes for next week. I will continue to write but I'm going to focus on my family and taking a soul retreat.

I hope you all have an amazing week!!

Comfort as an Obstacle

I've always considered myself to be blessed to be born in the United States. I've sat and pondered why I would be allowed to live here when so many others aren't.

I've also always considered myself blessed to be born in the time I was born. Thinking about some of the things that women have had to endure over the centuries...and some still do...is horrifying. But I live in a place and time when women are relatively free. I can wear whatever I want whether it's a burka or a bikini. I can divorce my husband if I want to for any reason I see fit to. I can drive through the drive thru for dinner. I can choose a career. I can be whatever I want to be...including a man. 

Women have never been free-er. 

But I'm starting to wonder if all of this freedom and the state of American society is really the blessing I've always considered it to be. 

I think that because my life has been pretty comfortable, it's easy to be lukewarm and/or spiritually lethargic. It's easy to blur the lines between godly and worldly. It's easy to mistake the American Dream for following Jesus. It's easy to see corporate worship as a routine drudgery when the only obstacle to me being there is the voice in my head telling me I could just sleep in. 

It's easy to forget that all good things come from God when I'm working my behind off for a house and a pool. It's easy to forget that there are people in the world who can't even fathom a pool, they don't even know where their next meal is going to come from.  And it's easy to forget that life isn't about climbing the corporate ladder or the house I live in or the car I drive...or even that pool. 

The thing is, just like everything else in the world, this is not a new-to-us problem. The Israelites had a similar problem. 

Just as they were about to go into the Promised Land, God warned the Israelites to remember where He had brought them from and what He had done for them. He knew that once they got into the Promised Land that they would be so comfortable that they would be tempted to forget and turn to other gods. So He warned them to remember and to tell their children.

That's the thing, I have to constantly be reminded. All of this, my very existence is from God. Everything I have is from God. And most importantly, my salvation is from God. He plucked me out of the clutches of Satan and Hell and hid me in Christ.

In all of my comfort and all of my freedom, I cannot forget. The American Dream and any other aspect of this world isn't the context of my life. My job, my house and my family are all enveloped in the context of Christ. Jesus is the context. He is the source from which everything else flows. 

This life has it's challenges, just like any other. Because some things are easier, others are difficult and sometimes hard to spot. Comfort can become an addiction and an obstacle to living out and even recognizing Jesus Kingdom. When I value my comfort over my or someone else's soul...it's a problem.

Yes, I still feel blessed. I appreciate my life and the freedoms it affords me. But I also recognize my own propensity to take things for granted, to forget and to lose my way. God has been good to me and I'm thankful for the reminder!

Thinking About My Thinking

The deadline for fall submissions to (in)courage closed this morning. I didn't submit anything. It just wasn't even on the radar of things I've been thinking about.

I'm not afraid of repeated rejection. I just don't think that's what God has for me right now, and I'm not going to force it. If God gives me something to say, I'll write it and submit, but for now He hasn't.

That's a recent commitment I've made...if God opens a door I will thankfully and faithfully walk through it, but I'm not going to build my own. Unless all the materials for the door show up on my doorstep and it becomes clear that He intends me to. 

I've been struggling to remain faithful in my writing. I've been wondering if this really is God's plan for me. Because I do this basically for myself. People tell me it encourages them sometimes, but I do this completely on my own. Nobody asked me to. 

My husband gets asked to use his talents. I'm not jealous or resentful of that it's just an example of what I mean. He's a singer and he's great at 'sound'...and people ask him to do that. He gets asked to sing whenever singers are needed for anything and he gets asked to run the 'sound board' when it needs running. 

I have a cousin who is great at planning things. Like, she's amazing. And she gets asked to plan things. 

I don't get asked to write. I'm not pouting or upset about this, I'm just questioning what I'm doing here. 

Growing up, I didn't think I was capable of doing any really important job. When I took the military personality/aptitude tests in high school...they told me I would be a good senator or judge or college professor or pastor. If the test had had a face...I would have laughed in it. Not because I wouldn't have loved those jobs...but I was brought up thinking that politics or law school was out of the question for a christian and I also just didn't think I had it in me. And pastor was completely and utterly out of the question.:) Lately I've been thinking about possibly going to law school after my kids are grown just to prove to myself that I can do it. I don't know, like I said, I'm not building any doors for myself. 

Honestly, I thought that being a wife and mother were the only things I could do. I thought I would be good at keeping a home and caring for my children and husband. I'm not. It doesn't come naturally for me. I thought I would be fulfilled by it...and I love my kids and my husband so much that it hurts...but I find the itch to have something of my own to contribute to the world. Maybe that's a character defect. 

Maybe I'll get to the end of my life and my significant contribution to the world will be that my house is finally clean and I have gotten over my phobia of having people over. Maybe that's the point to all of this. 

I don't know. But these are the thoughts that have been rummaging around in my head. I'm going to be faithful to my commitment to write...even if it's only for the feeling of accomplishment when the year is over and I've kept it. 

God is good, He is faithful and I trust Him with my future, my family and all of you! 

Raw and Uncut

I'm feeling kind of frustrated.

I'm frustrated because sometimes I totally think I'm surrendering to God and am in deep fellowship with Him and then I realize that I'm not really. If I were alive to God, I would be dead to sin and I wouldn't still be overeating. I mean, I know that as long as I'm alive I'll be growing and God will be changing me into the likeness of His Son. But I shouldn't still be a slave to food.

I'm actually really at a loss about this. I feel raw and frustrated. I mean, I think I've been growing in my relationship with God...some areas are kind of obvious....like the kind of mother I am. I'm not perfect but my mothering skills have seriously improved...like...exponentially. But other areas (mainly my food issues) I feel kind of baffled about.

It's not that I don't have the knowledge to eat healthy foods in healthy portions. It's the drive to actually do what I know, and not throw it all out the window when I'm triggered.

I feel like I'm not myself. I feel like the true me is buried under all of this fat and the life is being squeezed from me.

Maybe there's something I'm supposed to be learning, I don't know.

My weight issues hold me back. I find myself doing "grunt work" because I won't put myself out there to do what I really think God wants me to. I mean, I know the grunt work has value but I feel frustrated because I don't think it's what I'm supposed to be doing. It just feels wrong. It feels stifling.

The really frustrating thing is that a few years ago I thought God had solved this problem in my life.

Apparently not. Don't get me wrong though, I know the problem is me and not God. I'm not angry at Him or anything. I'm just in a weird place.

And that's all. Just wanted to be real.

Teaching my Kids to Get their Security from Jesus

I put my kids in public school this year. After a lot of prayer and thought we decided it was best. And so far it seems like a good thing.

This means I'm giving up a lot of my kids day to another adult. And a part of public school is reward/penalty based discipline.

At our "big kids" school there is something called the "Jeans List". Kids are awarded for good behavior by being given a reprieve from the normal uniform required.

None of our kids have made it so far. They have been disappointed every time.

Uriah, on the other hand, has been awarded Athlete, musician and artist of the week. 

I'll tell you what though, neither one of these things phases me, because I know who my kids are. I don't need them to receive awards or compliments for me to know who they are. Uriah was a good kid way before he was acknowledged by his teachers for being one. My other kids are good kids (who have their problems but are generally, usually fairly well behaved) even though they didn't make the "Jeans List". 

Awards and acknowledgements don't change who they are. Neither are failures or moments of poor behavior.  Doing the right thing is right regardless of who will notice. Wrong is wrong regardless of who will notice. 

I shouldn't do things based on who will notice. Uriah shouldn't only be a good athlete or musician or artist when the teacher is looking. My other kids should not stop being good kids because they have to wear khaki instead of denim. 

I want my kids to understand that my, and ultimately God's, love is not tied to their performance. That who they are as a person is not changed by what other people say about them. People miss a lot. And that could mean that someone who doesn't deserve to be acknowledged gets acknowledged while someone who does deserve it goes completely unnoticed. People are people and we are absolutely fallible and my self worth, and theirs, should not come from people but from the knowledge that God loves them, created them in His image and sent His Son to die for them.

I want my kids to know and be secure in who they are in Jesus, so that "compliments don't go to their head and criticisms don't go to their heart". 

That's something I need too. 

Trusting God at 9:02 a.m.

Remember Magnum P.I.? Shorty shorts, hawaiian shirts and . . . that mustache.

Thomas Magnum, of Magnum P.I., kept his head above water.

A power boat had passed by and knocked him into the water and separated him from his surfski.

Stranded. In open ocean.

Tired. Small hope.

He kicks his legs and waves his arms the way his father had taught him. Past the point of pain and exhaustion.

Not by agonizing . . .

over every kick and wave. Or how long rescue might take. Or how much his legs and arms hurt. Or how thirsty he is.

He made a decision each moment to keep kicking for THAT moment. Not ten minutes from then or even ten seconds. He made the decision to believe in the current moment and to keep kicking his legs and waving his arms. Regardless of how it felt.

And sometimes that's what life requires of us. Whether it's a bad health diagnosis, a struggling marriage or an addiction that I'm trying to break. Sometimes I just have to make the decision that at 8:42 am I am going to trust God with my health or my marriage or my addiction. I don't know what I'll be doing at 8:43 am, that doesn't matter right now...right now at 8:42 I am trusting God. 

I don't have to make the decision right now that even ten minutes from now I'll do the right thing. If that's overwhelming I can stop thinking that way and just think about THIS moment.

THIS. MOMENT.

Right. Now. 

I don't have to worry about whether I am strong enough to have faith in God, or trust Him with my marriage or my addiction or whatever else. 2 Corinthians 12:9 tells us that God's power is made perfect in my weakness. He will do it FOR me. All I have to do is right now, in this very moment make the decision that I will trust Him. And then renew that decision in the next moment. But right now, in this moment, I don't worry about the next moment. Just. this. moment. 

Magnum ended up treading water for an extreme amount of time. Way longer than he thought he could in the beginning. 

Sometimes we get caught up in the future. Or I do. I think about how far I have to go and how I probably won't keep up the work it would take to reach that goal...so I never get started. But it doesn't matter a great deal if I start a good habit today and maintain it every day until the end of time. It just matters today. If I work out today, regardless of whether I workout tomorrow, it's a good thing, I'm better off. 

So today, I'm only going to worry about today. Or this moment. I'm going to trust God right now. I'll worry about 9:03 at 9:03. Right now, at 9:02, I am trusting God. 

Listening More Than I Talk

I get frustrated with politics. For a long time I've basically ignored the news on the basis that after mothering 5 kiddos I didn't have the energy to worry about what was happening outside of our never ending mountain of laundry. But I've regained my interest in the world of politics and where our country and our world is headed.

As a young person I was very interested in politics but per my upbringing, I believed that any career having anything to do with politics was not something a Christian could do. I have since changed my mind. Maybe God put my interest in history, government and politics inside me for a reason, I don't know. Maybe it's just a silly passion that I will soon realize is just a manifestation of a worldly frame of mind. I don't know. I'm totally open to being wrong on most subjects, I would rather feel the sting of rebuke than remain staunchly in the wrong.

I don't consider myself a Republican or a Democrat. Both parties embrace various platforms that horrify me.

Something that frustrates me and a reason I've felt disillusioned for a long time is just the amount of bickering, sometimes over really petty things. Some people will criticize President Obama no matter what he does and some will praise him no matter what he does. Both sides "spin" the action and assign whatever motive they need to to feed their own positions viewpoint.

Nobody really listens to anyone one else and it all just turns into one big game of tug o' war.

I don't have to attend every argument that I'm invited to and I shouldn't. It seems that people get so caught up in being right that they don't even remember the original issue that they became angry about, they just know they are angry and where the anger was directed and so every issue that comes up, no matter how small, they grab onto it and continue the argument as if it were the battle of the ages.

If I get offended by EVERYTHING, my outrage loses its impact. If I get upset about what my local landmark is called and what books the library lends then my opinion about abortion gets lost in the ocean of outrage. People just roll their eyes and close their hearts and ears when they see me coming!

This applies to church too. If I complain about the temperature of the room and what time the services are and what songs get sung and who's preaching and what we have for lunch and whose baby was crying in church then my opinion loses any meaning or impact it might have had.

I don't have to be outraged about EVERYTHING. Sometimes I just need to put on my big girl panties and get over it and realize that the people who make decisions are mostly doing the best they can. I am NOT the only person who has an opinion and when a hundred or more people are involved there are likely just as many opinions...some of MY opinions are not going to be honored. Maybe none. But isn't that what being a follower of Jesus is about? Giving up my rights so my neighbor can exercise his?

Maybe I should try just shutting up unless something REALLY matters. Like, what's at stake here? My comfort or someone's soul? If the answer is my comfort or preferences it's probably time to shut up. If someone's soul is at stake it's time to speak up.

It's time to start making my words and actions count for something. Spend more time listening than talking so that when I do speak up, people listen.

James 1:19-20
Proverbs 17:28
Proverbs 12:15

God Loves and Knows My Kids More Than I Do...I Can Trust Him with Them

I haven't written all week.

Sure, I've been busy, my kids started public school and I've been busy working in my home. And our computer is broken so I either have to peck on my phone or wait until my husband gets home with his laptop.  But since I've been really trying to be totally available and engaged with my kids when they get home from school...that option doesn't work.

So I am probably not going to reach my two post quota this week.

God is working in my life but it's not really things that I can put into words yet.

He's been showing me that I can trust Him with my kids. Which I already knew but for the first three days of school I kind of forgot.

I wanted them to go to school and effortlessly fit in and everything just be be hunky-dorey. But it wasn't. There were challenges. And I could have stepped in, but I think God didn't want me to. I think He wanted me to know and remember that He loves these babies a million times more than I do. And if that's true then He wants the best for them even more than I do. And what's more, He can work it all for their good in a way that I can't even comprehend.

If they love Him, He can take all the things that they don't understand, all the things that frustrate them and disappoint them and work them for their good.

I can't do that. I can only love them and support them. I can't see their future. I can't weave all the lives and things together to create something good from something hideous and bad.

God can. And He loves these kids more than I do. So I trust Him.

Instead of begging Him to give them a good day, I thank Him for giving them one and for working the difficult moments for their ultimate good.

My heart is at peace, and I can support them and reassure them and put the proper emphasis on events, instead of freaking out in fear over something that won't even be a blip on the radar a year from now. :)

The Flip Side to Broken Marriage--Things You Should Know

Now that we know the ways we are broken and the source of our brokeness, it can be addressed. We've stepped out of denial and into our desperate need for our Savior. Our broken lives and broken marriage have given us a knowledge for our need of our Great Physician more than ever.

A really neat perk of where our marriage is right now? I don't love him because he's a good husband. I don't love him because he's a good provider. I don't love him because of all the things we have in common. I love him. And that's all. He doesn't have to do anything to earn my love. I love him because we've spent the last 14 years as partners in the trenches.

Things that used to get on my nerves don't anymore. Because I love him. And that has absolutely nothing to do with his actions so I am free to just accept him exactly like he is. I've come to realize that my love for him is deep...deeper than anything he can do to annoy me.

Does that mean I don't want him to make better choices sometimes? No. I want him to make better choices for himself and how he will feel as a result and how his relationship with God will grow and not because of how they affect me.

We both know, because we've both proven, that we can love each other through really stupid and horrible things we've done.

We've proven our commitment to each other.

So...unconditional love and unconditional commitment. And a deeper and more rich relationship with God.

That is what has come as a result of our broken marriage. See what I mean by God working our mess for our good? He is so good and faithful. And as difficult as some moments in our marriage have been, I am thankful. And optimistic! God is awesome!!!

Broken Marriage

Writing things down helps me process them.

I've written a lot about my marriage and the struggles we've had. I've tried really hard to not pretend, to not convey that things are better than they are.

Our marriage is broken. Because we are, and have been, broken.

It's like a horribly cracked foundation of a house. We can fix the cracks in the walls and replace the flooring all we want to but if the foundation isn't fixed it's just going to re-crack. There's no point in doing all of that patchwork if the foundation is broken.

For a long time we just ignored the cracks in the walls and floors of our marriage. I read books and blogs and tried to make the most of the house of our marriage.

Now, and for a while, we've been trying to get to the bottom of the damage. And just as I think we've gotten to the bottom of it all, we make a new discovery. It's like when you go to change the spark plugs on your car and realize you need a new engine. (I don't know if that would ever happen, but those are two car parts I know the names of, so there you go)

The latest of these discoveries is that we are just really not compatible. We were so unhealthy when we were dating that we both ignored all of the red flags and proceeded with reckless abandon.

I was the damsel in distress and he was my knight in shining armor. I was looking for love and freedom and he was looking for...well...I won't speak for him. It's like neither of us cared about whether we would really be a good match. I was (a much less violent) Bonnie to his Clyde.

So, here we are, almost 14 years in and the things we have in common are our shared experiences over the last 16 years.

We struggle to find things to talk about so we end up talking about our problems. Our own and each others, and that gets old.

We do have fun moments, don't get me wrong. But, we aren't the kind of couple who started out with a great love, we don't have a romantic engagement story. Our wedding wasn't magical and our honeymoon isn't a very good memory. We don't like the same movies, we don't enjoy the same activities.

Well, we both like kissing. And we both of like the movie Breakfast at Tiffany's. That's one thing we've got. :)

Our marriage doesn't have a ton of awesome moments. They have gotten increasingly less horrible, and some have actually been good. Some have even been great. But mostly we've survived.

I think this is a point when a lot of people decide that it isn't worth trying to save or they completely check out. But we haven't and, by the grace of God, we won't.

We are in this. We made a commitment to God, to each other, and now to our children and we are going to keep that commitment. This isn't ideal but honestly, I don't want out. And he doesn't either.

I don't know how God is going to work this for our good, but I know that He is. I trust Him. He has already used it for my good.

The thing is, finally admitting this to ourselves has kind of set us free. For years I've been reading books and blogs trying to fix us. But really, I was fixing the cracks in the walls and floors, not wanting to admit that the problem was with the foundation. Acknowledging the broken foundation has taken the pressure off.

It's like when you know there is something physically wrong with you and you imagine all of the things that could be wrong and you avoid going to the doctor. Or maybe you go to the doctor but it takes a while to figure out what's wrong. You can't treat the illness until you know what it is. You can treat the symptoms but the illness itself can't be treated until it's identified.

I'm excited to see God work, to watch Him heal us. To witness His strength made perfect in our weakness. And to ultimately stand in awe of His goodness and glory.

I Love Peter!

Peter is one of my favorite disciples.

I was just reading the Gospel of John. Jesus has just finished telling the disciples to love each other as He loved them.

And then Peter speaks up to ask Jesus where He is going. Jesus tells Peter that he can't follow Him now, but will later. Peter says

"Lord, why can I not follow you now? I will lay down my life for you."  Jesus answered, “Will you lay down your life for me? Truly, truly, I say to you, the rooster will not crow till you have denied me three times."

We all know what happened. Peter denied Him. Three times. Just like Jesus said he would.

This time Jesus' reply really struck me. I imagine that Peter recalled Jesus' question when the rooster crowed. "Will you lay down your life for me?" I wonder how many times he thought of that moment throughout his life. I imagine it crossed his mind when he was being nailed to his own cross. But that time he replied with a resounding YES! Not with his tongue as he had previously been keen to do, but with his life.

I think it would have been amazing to witness the transformation of Peter. From the nervous talker who denied knowing Jesus to the dedicated Jesus follower who preached Jesus.

It's just a beautiful picture to me. Not that Peter denied Jesus, but that even though he didn't get it right that time, he eventually did.

I love Peter because he reminds me of what God can do in my life. He reminds me that where I am today is not where I will always be. That even though I say stupid things, completely miss the point and get caught up in peer pressure that God can use me, He can accomplish His will through me. He can and will change me.

These sins and character defects that plague me will eventually be gone. Not completely in my earthly life. But enough that my life won't be about them anymore. Enough that my life will be so full of Jesus that they will have to kill me to end it. But even if they do, it won't be over. I'll just praise Him somewhere else. :)

More Questions than Answers

I wonder if Leah ever felt loved? I wonder if she regretted tricking Jacob into marrying her?

Laban probably thought he was doing the right thing. Maybe Leah did too. Or maybe Leah just did what her father told her to. 

Jacob was a decent guy. He honored the commitment he made. He cared for her needs. He gave her her fair share of bed sharing. But I wonder if she ever regretted what she had done? 

I wonder what went on in her head? Did she long to be loved? Did she long to be chosen? How on Earth did she live a happy life always knowing Rachel was the chosen one? Rachel's children were even preferred over hers. 

Honestly, until the last few years, Leah was probably my least favorite too. But I have grown curious about her.

Maybe she was a much better woman than I am. Maybe she coped well and was content with her life and husband. 

Ultimately God used it all for good. And I doubt that she cares about being loved by Jacob now. But I wonder what she would say if I could have her over for lunch and a chat?

Serving by Being Served

I'm not a super gifted person, but a few years ago as a result of a spiritual conviction and a true desire to serve, I thought long and hard of what I could do. Finally I decided that I could serve pregnant mothers with older children by cleaning their homes so they could rest.

With a timid heart but the courage of my convictions I made a list and approached each one.

All of them turned me down. They all seemed offended.

I was crushed. I felt rejected and frustrated.

I don't really know the psychology behind why THEY did this, but to be honest, I've done the same thing.

I was taught to not ask for things...to not "bother" people. And so my first instinct is to do things myself...even if I can't or I need help. Most of the time it doesn't even enter my mind that I CAN ask for help or that I should. I typically just tell myself that if I worked harder that I wouldn't need help. So I put my head down and barrel through.

But I'm learning to say 'yes' when someone offers their help. God is teaching me that it's okay to need help. It's even okay to accept help even when I don't think I need it. It's a part of His plan. It's actually how His body is designed to function. We need each other. 

If nobody will allow anyone else to serve then how will anyone fulfill the call to serve?

The physical body has the ability to give and the ability to receive. If all my hands could do was give things away, I would eventually run out of things to give and I would never receive things I need (like money, food, etc.)...I would die. It's the same with the spiritual body. Our spiritual body is not meant to just give. It is meant to receive. From God and from others.

Even Jesus received "help" from others. He borrowed a room to observe the Passover in, and He allowed Mary to anoint Him with expensive perfume. Can you imagine if Jesus had jumped up and said "It's okay! I don't need to be anointed. Thanks though!"

That perfume could have been sold and the money given to the poor, as the disciples pointed out. I mean, Jesus was all about helping the poor, right?! But instead of rebuking her, he defended her. He said she did the right thing.

And then He rebuked Peter when he tried to refuse Jesus the opportunity to wash his feet.  Jesus was the teacher. It makes sense to me. Thinking of someone I respect doing such a menial task for me seems out of order. But it's not. It's the Jesus way.

The Jesus way is serving and being served. There is a time for both. Both require humility.

The most spiritually uplifting thing that has ever been done for me is allowing me to use my gifts to serve. Even if someone else could have done a better job or was more equipped.

I feel certain that those mothers didn't mean any harm or discouragement. I feel certain that Peter had good intentions by refusing to have his feet washed. But Jesus still rebuked him.

Being the receiver is not a negative thing. Allowing me to scrub your toilet isn't a negative commentary on your housekeeping skills. It is an act of service to someone who doesn't have much to give.

Saying yes when someone offers their help is an act of service as much as offering the help in the first place. Both are a part of God's plan.

Future Plans and Goals

Throughout my adulthood I have struggled to find anything that I'm good at.

I finally admitted a few months ago that, thinking as honestly as I can, I think God gave me the talent of writing. I'm still open to realizing that I am wrong, and I'm not saying I'm Shakespeare or Emily Dickinson, but I think He gave me words. 

So back in March I decided to commit to writing regularly and posting to my blog 2 times a week. And I have kept that commitment. I'm offering my "not enough" to God. 

But even though I think God has compelled me to write, my talent and knowledge of how to do it properly are limited. And so, for His glory I have desired to improve my craft. 

I've spent the last month or so diligently studying writing and I have come to the conclusion that one of my biggest issues is with editing.

Basically, beyond checking for spelling and blatant grammatical errors, I don't do it. Every thing I've ever published on this blog has been a first, or rough, draft. I sit down, I write and I publish.

I held the mistaken belief that good writers don't have to agonize over the order of words and that whatever came out first was as good as it was going to get. But I have since learned that even famous writers of classic novels rewrote and revised their work heavily. Hemingway rewrote the last page of A Farewell to Arms 39 times. Crazy! 

And so, I think my best course of action is to take the pieces I've already written and give them proper editorial attention.

I'm not sure how I'm going to handle to continue to publish twice a week. I have several options but I haven't finalized a plan of attack. I may just share the edited versions for comparison purposes.

But I just wanted to let anyone who might be reading this know that things are going to be changing around these here parts. Hopefully for the good. 

I thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading my rough drafts and for being so kind about them!

Here's to better writing ahead!

I'm Not Who I Thought I Was

Have you ever wondered which part you would play in the story of the Good Samaritan?

I have. And until recently I would have said that I would have been the Samaritan.

A few days ago an older (read:wiser) woman expressed some frustration at the lack of initiative and responsibility that people around my age, in the church, take for their "neighbors" who aren't already in their circle of friends.

As a result, I sort of came to the realization that I have played the Levite or priest role.

 I've seen people sitting off by themselves and passed them by. I've noticed that someone wasn't at church but didn't bother to check on them. I've assumed that since their wheel wasn't squeaky that it didn't need any grease. But I didn't bother to get to know them well enough to learn to recognize the sound of their squeak...so they may have been squeaking and I just didn't recognize the sound.

I've kept to myself when I should have reached out. I've stayed huddled in my own little world instead of seeking out other kingdom dwellers who need connection.

The thing is, isolation is a tool of Satan. He is a lion, prowling around looking for someone to devour.

Lions don't pick out the sheep that are close to the shepherd. He picks out the one who is alone. The one who is isolated. The one who got left behind or who wandered off.

He is lying. 

He's saying that I'm not good enough, that my house isn't clean enough, that I can't say the right things and that I should just leave things to someone else who can do them better.

He's deceiving with social media. 

He's isolating me by fooling me into thinking that I have real connections with people on social media. These connections satisfy my deep soul need for community just enough that I'm willing to live with the shallowness of it so that I don't have to actually open my life and my heart.

I only share carefully edited and closely cropped snippets of who I am.

I know a lot about people, but I don't really know people. I know what they ate for dinner but I don't know what they whisper in the uncaptured and unstaged moments they spend on their knees. I know about their latest Pinterest project but I don't know about the chaos just outside the bounds of the creatively cropped pictures of utter perfection. 

I need to make time and put the best interests of my neighbors before my own. Even the ones that I don't know and don't seem to have a lot in common with.

I need to get to know people regardless of whether I think their needs are being met or not.

I need to stop assuming that someone older or wiser or more skilled will do it. There are enough "neighbors" to go around.

I need to stop comparing what God has given me to what He's given others. It's just my job to plant or water, it's God who gives the increase. I don't have to worry about what happens next. All I have to think about is offering up what I have.

There's no famine on God's grace. It is limitless and relentless. There's more than enough to go around.

So who are YOU in the story of the Good Samaritan? 

I Quit

I'm out of breath. And sweating like a...pig. I don't know, do pigs really sweat?

Anyway, I have challenged myself to work out for 100 days in a row. I just completed my third day.

I started a work out tonight and about a third of the way through I wanted to quit. I actually turned the video off.

It was hard. It was the weight lifting portion and I really just wanted to throw my weights at the guy on the screen telling me we weren't done yet.

The thing is, I always regret giving up. Always. Every. Stinkin. Time.

I don't recall ever wishing I hadn't finished something.

The things I regret are the things I was too afraid to try or the things I was too lazy to finish.

So I asked myself the questions I've learned to ask when I feel like quitting.

1. What will it look like if I quit? How will I feel tomorrow when I think about this moment? What will it feel like to have to start over next time, knowing I quit this time?

2. What will it look like if I keep going? How will I feel when I'm done? What benefits will I receive if I persevere? What will it look like and how will I feel when I reach the goal that this difficult situation is working toward?

And I turned the video back on and finished the work out.

It feels amazing to finish something hard. To be able to ponder the complexity and the adversity and to know that I finished anyway in spite of those things. Not only does that feel amazing but it's an amazing opportunity to see God working in my life.

I know that working out isn't some major spiritual battle, but for me, it kind of is. It's discipline. It's me training to do hard things. It's me working through something difficult simply because it's the right thing to do. I might not feel like it and I may not want to but it's the right thing to do.

And I'm thankful that I didn't miss this beautiful moment where I got to see God's mighty power working through my weakness.

I love 1 Peter 5:6-11.

Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you,casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you. Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour. Resist him, firm in your faith, knowing that the same kinds of suffering are being experienced by your brotherhood throughout the world. And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you. To him be the dominion forever and ever. Amen.

I especially love verses 9 and 10. It's so comforting to know that people all over the world are having the same kinds of struggles that I am. And that the God of all grace is going to restore, confirm, strengthen and establish me.

But I have to keep going. If I quit I rob Him of that opportunity.

Persevering doesn't mean I don't pray my way through it. I've prayed my way through many work outs (as well as many way more important moments).  It doesn't mean that I put my head down and barrel through. Persevering means exactly the opposite. It means that I humble myself under the mighty hand of God. It means I cast all of my anxieties on Him. It means I acknowledge the presence and work of the enemy.

Life is full of hard choices and difficult moments. Those hard choices and difficult moments build character and construct hope (Romans 5).

God is there in those hard choices and difficult moments. Just. hold. on.

After a while, "the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you."