There's Power in....

I felt it today as I was leaving the church parking lot.  The need for more.  More of what, though, I wasn't sure.  On the drive home, the Lord showed me some things.  He took what I thought I wanted and gave me a deeper meaning. Hopefully it will make sense to the one out there who needs it:

I drive a black minivan.  And, as my son often says, it's hard to look cool in a minivan.  But I don't drive a minivan to look cool.  I drive it mostly because it's practical.  It can haul things and/or people as needed.  It's my "grocery-go-getter" and my "kid-picker-upper."  When I press on the gas, it goes, usually without much fanfare or noise.  It's dirty.  It has a loootttt of miles on it, and right now is well overdue for an oil change.  It's my steady and reliable mode of transportation.

But....in the garage....behind closed doors...where the dirt and elements don't enter so easily....there is something else.  Something most have only heard about and few have really seen.  It's a shiny red 1964 Chevelle with a big motor.  It's not practical for everyday driving and the day-in/day-out messiness of family life.  But on those days when it's brought into the sunlight, I can feel it.  I can't quite put my finger on it, but it's a different feeling than when I drive the minivan.  When I press the gas, it makes noise - oh that insides-shaking noise - and it goes...it goes like it means business.  It has....power.

Maybe that's what I felt I needed more of today - power.  Most days I'm just like that ol' minivan.  I'm worn and weary, dirty and in need of some TLC.  Just going about life, doing what needs to be done and taking care of stuff.  Then there are those occasions when I want to be more like the hotrod.  When I put things in gear and press the gas, I want there to be movement and noise and a feeling of "oh wow!"  

What God has shown me today is that I have the ability and opportunity to be both.  I own them both.  They are both mine, and they are both part of who I am.  It's up to me which one I put the gas in, turn the key, and go in.

You're Gonna Miss This

“You’re gonna miss this.” That’s what people say. I’ve heard it ever since my kids were babies. There’s even a song about it. But, honestly, miss it? Really? I don’t feel it.

Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed my babies...when they were babies. The every-two-hour feeding schedule for preemies; the no-bleach-in-the-laundry for sensitive skin; the up-all-night-screaming (mostly the baby). The nightly bath time, the smell of baby lotion, their soft breath on my arm or neck as they fell asleep. They were so cute!

The first days of school; the “I can do it myself” tantrums (again, mostly the baby); the running away from home only to make it to the end of the driveway. The birthday parties and sleepovers and almost always a house full of kids ages 2 to 12.

The 11-year-old girl drama stage; the Power Ranger kicks; hearing “hey Mama guess what” for the millionth time.

Getting their driver’s permit, and then their license. Making sure everybody and every vehicle was covered on the insurance. Prom. Graduation. Visiting colleges. The day they moved out.

I wouldn’t change any of it. I have loved my kids at every stage of their lives. But go back and do it again? I’m not sure about that. Each phase had its good times, but it also had its completely nerve-racking times. And we have pictures of it all. There has been a lot of blood, sweat and tears that went into raising three healthy, well-behaved, independent, functional members of society. There were days when I had my doubts. And I was glad to do it. After all, I’m their Mama, and that’s what Mama’s do.

So, today, as I prepare myself for my oldest son’s high school graduation, trying not to be all mushy and sentimental, I admit I look back with tugging heart strings over the past 19 years. He has grown into quite a young man. Beside him, I have my newlywed daughter and her husband. And on the other side is my youngest, the new teenager in the family (who I just realized will be driving in little more than a year and a half). We have come a long way. But I don’t think either one of us wants to go back and start over. Can’t wait to see what the next phases bring!

Where Do I Start?

Hello again!  I have been quiet in the writing world lately, but not because I don't have anything to say.  I just haven't had anything that I could say publicly.  It has taken me a few days to decide if I wanted to start this or not. Keeping track of the daily progress as I count down the busyness of what's ahead.

We've had a stressful - no, let's say eventful - last few months.  A lot of changes have come along (and are still coming).  To give you the short version - my oldest son decided it was time for him to move out and be on his own; my mom announced she was getting married and set her wedding date at March 1, 2014; and my daughter got engaged and set her wedding date at April 19, 2014.  All within a span of about two weeks.  Talk about some head-spinning!

It has taken me some time to come to grips with all that has taken place.  And the growth process has not been pretty.  For a non-emotional person, I was quite emotional.  I could go from sentimental to sad to mad just during my drive to work.  I was afraid to say too much for fear of what might come out.  Once things are said, you can't unsay them any more than the person you say them to can unhear them.  Thus my silence.

But here I am.  Am I ready to lay it out there?  Are y'all ready to hear it?  Don't worry, I'm not going on that rollercoaster ride again.  I just think it would be neat to chronicle the goings on over the next few months.  With a ladies retreat to help coordinate, two weddings to put together, at least one baby shower to plan, and making sure everybody knows about my son's high school graduation - there are a lot of details to keep straight.  

I hope to be posting my progress every day.  But I won't be sharing everything on facebook.  So, if you want to follow along, I'd be glad to have you.  Just sign up to receive each post by email.  Or, if you can remember, just check back here occasionally and catch up. 

Ready...Set...Here We Go!

Along Came a Spider

I have just about exhausted my poor computer’s search engine trying to find out how to get rid of and prevent spider webs. No matter how much I clean and knock those things down, they always come right back. I have googled and binged till I’m just about googled and binged out. I’ve seen everything from do-it-yourself solutions to ads for the best exterminators around. I honestly haven’t found any that appeared fool-proof enough to spend my time and money on. When I put down some chemicals to do away with some spiders, I don’t expect to ever see a spider in my house again...ever.

But, leave it to my ever-meddling pastor to give me the perfect solution. After a wonderful sermon hitting me right between the eyes, he summed it up nicely - the only way to stop spiders from rebuilding their webs is to...now get this...KILL THE SPIDER! Well duh! How simple is that?!

That may just be my problem. You see, I’m not one of those people who freaks out over spiders. Granted, I don’t want them crawling on me, but I don’t go all kung-fu on them either. When I see a spider crawling on the floor, or even climbing it’s pretty web up to the ceiling, I usually just leave it be. Sometimes it’s because I’ve got my hands full and to kill the spider would mean unloading and then trying to pick everything back up again. Most of the time, though, it’s because I’m just too busy to stop and deal with it. That one spider is not hurting anything right now, and when I squish it I’ll just have another mess to clean up.

The pastor’s sermon on spiders and their webs in dark corners entangling unsuspecting insects to their doom was, of course, representing the devil’s tactics to get us all tangled up in our sins. As I listened to his words, I saw how I could apply this same scenario to several areas of my life that, quite frankly, had become as troublesome as those never-ending spider webs. It seems that while I’ve been trying to keep the peace, I’ve only served to create chaos.

It’s easier to let the kids watch whatever is on tv than it is to argue with them about what they’re watching. It’s easier to let them play their video games instead of explaining the dangers of pretending to steal cars and beat people up. It’s easier to just do the chores myself than to teach them responsibility. It’s easier to let them sleep in after being up all night with friends sleeping over than it is to get everybody up and ready for church. It’s easier to let one more “I’m just kidding” remark slip by than it is to correct him for his disrespect. It’s easier to let the spider crawl back into the darkness on than it is to kill it.

It’s easy for phone calls to friends or church members to be overrun by dishes and laundry. It’s easy for visits with family to be pushed aside for errands and the occasional “down time.” It’s easy for quiet time with God to be interrupted by “Mama I need...” and “Mama can you...” For all my good intentions, I evidently lack the focus and determination to get to the more important things.

Instead of constantly worrying what somebody will think when they see all the spider webs in my house, maybe I should put some of that effort into preventing them in the first place. Instead of staying busy knocking them down, maybe I should kill a few spiders and clean up the mess.

(I hope you got as much out of this as I did. I am thankful for my wonderful Pastor who allows God to speak through him and, unknowingly, to get all up in my business. God Bless you all!)

God on the Mountain

I cheated on my devotion this morning. I read ahead. Our scripture was in Matthew 4, verses 1-11. Instead of stopping there, I finished the chapter and continued reading into chapter 5. It was there I met God on a mountain. In Chapter 4, we hear how Jesus was taken to the wilderness to be tempted for 40 days. During that time, Satan took him to the top of the temple and, in essence, mocked Him and His Father - "If thou be the Son of God, cast thyself down." He even quoted scripture to him, "for it is written, He shall give his angels charge concerning this: and in their hands they shall bear thee up, lest at any time thou dash thy foot against a stone." When that approach didn’t work, the devil tried again, this time taking Jesus to "an exceeding high mountain." He offered to give him "all the kingdoms of the world, and the glory of them." Jesus is more bold in his rebuttal, even calling him out by name, "Get thee hence, Satan." "Then the devil leaveth him, and, behold, angels came and ministered unto him." On the very next page, a mere 15 verses later, Jesus is again on a mountain. The Bible doesn’t say how high the mountain is, only that "he went up into a mountain: and when he was set, his disciples came to him: And he opened his mouth, and taught them."  This leads me to think Jesus was at least high enough that "the multitude" could see him and listen to His profound words. No doubt the crowd that Jesus saw from His position on this mountain was far greater than the view presented by the devil just a short time earlier. How many times has the devil tempted me with what appeared to be a high point in my life, showing me all that could be mine? "Work is coming in, your bills are paid. You've got it made. You can afford this." How many times have I believed him, only to end up crashing to the ground? Too many times. I have also had those occasions when I have been strong. Times when I didn't give in to the devil and his temptations. And I have been better off for it. No I didn’t get the shiny new thing I (thought) I wanted, or I didn't get to do what I (thought) I wanted to do, but I had faith to believe that God knew what I needed more than I did. Following my "stand" against the devil, I often find myself again on a mountain. This time I won't not see glorious kingdoms at my feet. I may only see dirty floors and piles of bills. But God sees the bigger picture. I'm where He wants me. This is where He can use me. He gives me the strength and ability to resist the devil, and He gives me the words to be able to share my testimony with you. Jesus had His sermon to give on the mount. He spoke the beatitudes and parables and performed miracles before thousands upon thousands. Maybe the best message I can give is with simple words found while standing over mounds of laundry. I may never be on "an exceeding high mountain," but I'm excited about where God will lead me. Whether it be on a mountain or in the wilderness, I know He'll be there. Not with mocking or vain illusions, but with the promise of His provision, everlasting love and eternal life.

Comin' 'Round the Mountain.....again

     I’ve been tossing this thought around for a couple of days, not sure if posting it would be the right thing to do. I feel like I’m repeating myself, just going around and around the same mountain, learning the same lesson over and over. I decided to go ahead and put it out there. Maybe some of y’all can give me some pointers on how to get out of this pattern. Or maybe I can let one of you, who may be doing the same thing, that you’re not alone. So here we go:
     I have always enjoyed revival. A time to get the spiritual juices boiling. Seeing the Spirit touch so many people in so many different ways, personal to each one, it just stirs something inside me I can’t explain. By the end of the week, I always feel revived and ready to go to work for my Lord. But this year, I didn’t want to spend the week getting revived. I wanted to be revived before the week started. I wanted to enjoy the services on a deeper level. I didn’t just want to watch other people losing themselves in the Spirit, I wanted to get lost in it myself.
     I prayed. I prayed a lot. I asked the Lord to allow me to feel his touch like I never have before. I would love to shout like Sis. So-n-so. I wish I had the ability to testify like Bro. What’s-his-name. I prayed for God to give me strength to do whatever He laid on my heart. I prayed for Him to give me a mind set on defeating the devil with my spiritualness.
     Well, we are halfway through this summer revival, and nothing yet. As I lay in bed pondering the situation, I wondered what was wrong. My first thoughts were, “It’s not fair, the men have prayer room for 30 minutes before church starts and they get started before the rest of us.” “The preachers didn’t give us a chance to testify.” “You’ll look silly.” “Everybody will think you’re just trying to get attention if you do something out of the ordinary.” Now, I’m pretty sure I’ve been doing this long enough to know that that’s just the devil talking to me. No sooner had the thoughts entered my mind than I pushed them right out again. They were simply not true and it was obvious who was putting them in my head.
     After several attempts, the evil one hit me with the one thought that I always fall victim to. “You don’t have anything special to say so God doesn’t want you to do anything.” Yep. That one gets me every time. I know I can always say the simple “I love the Lord.” But I want something more than that. And again I find myself waiting on some blinding light to shine down on me out of heaven as confirmation that when I stand the words will flow out of my mouth like honey. (It would make for a special moment in a movie scene, but not likely to happen just like that here in real life.)
     So I was convinced. God just doesn’t have anything for me to do right now. I have nothing special to say. No earth-shattering revelations or profound statements to express my beliefs and love for God. Then I felt it. It was like a slap in the face. I had hurt Him. I could actually see the hurt in His eyes as He whispered, “Really? I died for you. That’s not earth-shattering?!” I have felt that hurt. The ache in your heart when you realize all you’ve done isn’t appreciated. No matter how jokingly it’s presented, the words and actions bring a stabbing pain to my gut. On my good days I can smile through it and continue on. Other days it brings me to tears.
     That’s how I had made my Jesus feel. Unappreciated. Like what He did for me in some way wasn’t enough. What was I thinking?!  HE SAVED MY SOUL! I am no longer bound for hell! If He never does anything for me ever again, that in itself is enough! I should proclaim it daily, several times, loudly. Even that wouldn’t be enough to thank Him for loving me so much. He knew what He was getting when He saved me. He knew I would let Him down; that I wouldn’t do exactly as He wanted; that I would need Him more and more every day. He knows how many times I will have to go around this mountain before I find my way out of this pattern.  But he did it any way.
     HE loves ME. I’m saved. What more is there to say?

The Present

This week's Five Minute Friday topic is "Present." For more info and some great stories, click here. Reminisces and hopes for the future.  That seems to be my life lately.  Thinking back about summers past, times when the kids were little, the booboos, the funny stories, the "remember whens."  Looking forward and preparing for road trips, planning activities to do while we're out of town, dreading the drive home and the clean up that will be required when we get back.  Next week we're giving my niece a baby shower.  School starts back in only 6 weeks.  My daughter brought her boyfriend "home to meet the family."  Where has the time gone and what does the future hold? I have spent the morning reflecting on what I have and haven't accomplished this week.  I've read blogs on how to be better organized and accomplish more goals for next week.  But today, right now, I have only 5 minutes to tell you about my present.  I don't feel like "doing" my hair today, and that will just have to be ok because I'm out of hairspray.  There are piles of laundry that need to be washed, but I'm out of laundry detergent too.  The dishes were done earlier, but now the kitchen needs cleaned again.  I probablay need to deposit some money in the bank before I mail the check for the mortgage payment.  I am uncomfortable in my clothes - that in between stage when some are too big and others too tight.  I need to brush my teeth.  I need to replace the toilet paper roll. I need to put the clean clothes away. My house smells like lighter fluid and I'm sure I don't want to know why.   I am alone in this room.  I pray for my daughter, she said she's having a frustrating day.  I pray for my oldest son, he's at work, outside, in the heat, probably on a roof.  I pray for my husband and my youngest son because I just saw them walk past the window shielding the flame of a lighter and heading toward the brush pile and, well did I mention the smell of lighter fluid.  Oh, um, excuse me won't you?!