Finding a Balance

Today I'm substitute teaching for a friend. He's the french teacher at the high school. Since this is french class, I'm requiring everyone who wants to go to the bathroom or get a drink to ask me in french. It's proving to be quite interesting how sophomores and juniors in second-year french have no idea how to pronounce things like "pui" and "j'aller."

So I wrote it on the board phonetically. Some of them are still doing without water and the bathroom because they refuse to say it. They don't want to look stupid, like "know-nothings."

While they are doing their writing assignments, I've had time to read my daily bible -- I Corinthians 8.

You know, I love how the bible is all about balance. Essentially, balance means that too much of a good thing is a bad thing. How true! How many bad things are simply a corruption of a good thing? Too much chocolate -- too much candy -- too much work -- too much play -- too much talking -- too much waiting -- too busy -- too much sleep -- too much!

Here's a quote from the first part of the chapter --

We sometimes tend to think we know all we need to know to answer these kinds of questions—but sometimes our humble hearts can help us more than our proud minds. We never really know enough until we recognize that God alone knows it all.

Once in awhile I have to just stop and admit that I just flat don't know -- but maybe I can find the answer. And sometimes I can't even find the answer. It's humbling to admit, and yet good to know that God really does know it all. And He'll tell me the answer if I simply ask. Is there any better advice for a young Christian?

And here is the best part of the chapter, for me:

But knowing isn't everything. If it becomes everything, some people end up as know-it-alls who treat others as know-nothings. Real knowledge isn't that insensitive.

We do love to measure things, don't we? We like to know that we're this smart or that tall. Or that we're this old, or that far along in our studies, or we've been a Christian this many years.

There was one group that really irritated Jesus -- the Pharisees. They were all about the rules and paid no attention to the "spirit of the law," or the reasons behind the rules. They were the types of know-it-alls to whom Paul refers. They were highly respected, and originally had the right idea -- but it became a corruption of the good idea when it became rules and laws and a constant measuring of everything. It gave them big heads, and some of them treated non-Pharisees as "know-nothings."

REAL KNOWLEDGE ISN'T THAT INSENSITIVE. Wow! Could Paul have said it any better?

The Pharisees like Josepheus (who provided the tomb for Jesus' burial) were the ones who were the good ones -- who realised that God really does know it all, and while they knew a lot, they certainly didn't know everything. They realised that there has to be a balance between the rules and the knowing that we can never keep them all.

There has to be grace. And there has to be a Saviour. We have to stop sometimes and admit that we just don't know it all, and that if you can't keep every rule, maybe you should just concentrate on the reason for the rule.

Lord God, please enable me today to be humble before these teenagers, to let them know that I certainly don't know it all, and that the best thing any Christian can do is pursue You in everything. Amen.

xoxox

He Knows My Name, He knows My Cell Number, Too.

Today is my 23rd wedding anniversary. I am amazed that I have done anything consistently in my life for 23 years. And yet there is that Hunk O Man that I love infinitely more now than when I married him. I suppose even more amazing is that he loves me still, after all the joy and pain and heartache of 23 years and 5 kids. Once again, I praise God who is the Giver of all good things.

Yesterday, he and I (well, yes, God too, but I mean Hunk O Man and I) took a little trip to the beach. We stood in the warm sand and watched as the waves came in -- it was a little breezy, with rain to the north and south of us, so they were the kind of waves that come in kind of lined up, about 4-5 rows deep. The blue of the sky and the deep aqua of the water just brought a peace over me that only God can give. Wow. I do love the ocean.

We shopped our way home from the beach, stopping at various thrift and Goodwill stores. We also stopped at the Sprint store. In our efforts to curb costs, we have decided to forego our "land line" and go with all cell phones. However, it took a miracle God provided through a wonderful woman named Andrea to make it all happen. Believe it or not, it actually will save us money.

So last night and today, each girl has been beside herself with the new toy. Programming the ring tones, getting all the contacts in, etc. All but one have brand-new phones (which we got free). They have texted more friends in a half-hour's time than in probably all the time previous to getting the new phones -- because each one has her own number now, it's important to let everyone know. No more sharing a phone, or borrowing a sister's or mom's phone. Now each one has her own.

I have sat and watched all this furious texting and programming, bent heads with thumbs flying. And I realised that their excitement stems from something we all feel very deeply: to them, having their very own cell phone, their own number, means that people can now know their name. They are important, they have value, they have their own cell phones. 'It's mine,' they think. It's me.

And I remembered this: He knows my name, He knows my every thought, He sees each tear that falls, and hears me when I call.

I suppose we could add that He knows our cell number, too. And don't get me wrong - our girls (thankfully) each know God in a deep and personal way that no cell phone could ever replace.

But being recognized for who we are is so universal. We want to be seen, to be heard, to be valuable enough to our friends and family to matter. We want someone to know our name. And our phone number. And to email or text or call us just to see how we're doing.

So whether or not you have a new cell phone, or no cell phone at all, don't forget this --

xoxox

Healed by a Shadow

From Acts 5:12-16, The Message:

12-16Through the work of the apostles, many God-signs were set up among the people, many wonderful things done. They all met regularly and in remarkable harmony on the Temple porch named after Solomon. But even though people admired them a lot, outsiders were wary about joining them. On the other hand, those who put their trust in the Master were added right and left, men and women both.

They even carried the sick out into the streets and laid them on stretchers and bedrolls,

hoping they would be touched by Peter's shadow

when he walked by. They came from the villages surrounding Jerusalem, throngs of them, bringing the sick and bedeviled.

And they all were healed.

I WANT FAITH LIKE THAT.

xoxox

Raking Leaves

My left hand still hurts today. There is a bruise in the skin between my left thumb and first finger from raking leaves the other night. But it's not a bad hurt. It's a good one.

There were just four of us for dinner that night-- Hunk O Man, Bug, Baby and I, and Hunk O Man had a meeting. The other three girls were at a tennis match. So we ate early -- as we never do (we are very european in the way we eat dinner -- as in LATE). By 5:30PM, we were finished, and I went outside.

As Hunk O man left for his meeting, he noticed a rake I'd left by the porch doorway. He asked if someone had been raking, and I answered that yes, as a matter of fact, I had. I had used the rake to put down some mint plants that a friend had dropped by, that I hope will grow around the edge of our covered porch.

So I headed outside with him, and as he left, I grabbed the rake and went at the yard, which was covered in leaves.

It didn't take long before I had a huge pile of leaves, and wondered where I would put them. I decided on the little hillside past the trees, but not so far down as to block the entrance to the shed.

Raking is a mindless business, for the most part. The air was cool, but not cold, and my mind wandered as I heaped huge piles and then proceeded to pull them apart and move them downhill.

I thought about what Hunk O Man would say when he saw the piles of leaves. I could hear him praising my efforts and pointing them out to the girls, who would look at me and ask why I had done it, and I would reply that I wasn't afraid of a little hard work and neither should they be. It would be a wonderful teaching moment and they would respond by raking the entire front yard.
They would remember this all their lives and teach their children about how raking is good for you and generations to come would praise me, the first one who did it, and talk about how a little hard work never hurt anybody.

Uh-huh. I absolutely did think that.

Then I realised that I had been thinking all about me, me, me. I should have been praying for someone else while doing this mindless work! Yes, I should have been doing some other noble thinking task.

So I thought about Constance Marie, for whose daughter I had made some little gaucho pants, and how Constance Marie was so picky about the pockets, and how her daughter had cared less, and Constance Marie should just lighten up; good grief, was I that fixated on the mindless when I was a young mom? And how Constance Marie was going to pay me for making these pants and a few more pairs, and how she'd been so specific about how to make her oldest daughter's -- no poofy pockets or a lot of gathering in the front, please, and how these pants were being made out of my fabric from my stash and the amount she'd proposed to pay me was a little ridiculous, considering it was my fabric and time.

The day was grey, and it seemed like a very long time before it got dark.

And I kept at it. About the time I thought that some of the leaves should go back behind the shed, God got a word in edgewise.

I realised that I shouldn't charge Constance Marie anything at all for the pants. Good grief, had people not been generous enough with me? What about if I just made the pants, gave them to her, and told her that at some point in the future, she'll be called to be generous. So be very generous and remember this, how I am generous to you.

And isn't raking the leaves its own reward, really?

I finished up, and looked over at the side yard by the fence. That needed it, too. I could hear my neighbor talking on the phone in her screened porch.

I thought about why I'd never made a some lemon squares and taken them over to just sit and chat with her.

I thought about how I should call and check in with Myrtle once a week.

I listened a little more. And I made a couple more piles of leaves.

It was finally getting dark. I laughed to myself that neither of the girls had come out to check on me, or just out of curiousity. Not even the dog came to the door and whined to come out with me.

It was just me and God and the leaves. One of those moments of holiness when work and listening collide, and God gets through, and you breathe in the cool air and thank Him that you have a bruise on your hand now from raking. And you say thanks, Lord, for interrupting me and my ridiculously small thinking.

Thank you for lifting my chin and making me look up, Lord. Thank you.

I put the rake away and came inside. Amen.

xoxox

The Rest of the Song

And so we meet again

After all these many years

Did we sow the seeds we're reaping,

Now that the harvest draws us here?

It seems that love blooms out of season

And much joy can blossom from many tears

And so, old friends,

You must forget what you had to forgive

And let love be stronger than the feelings

That rage and run beneath the bridge

Knowing morning follows evening

Makes each new day come as a gift.

That song is by Rich Mullins, who is one of my all-time favourite songwriters.


I'm not sure what was going on in his life when he wrote it, but I can imagine, can't you? Seeing old friends, looking at the "wake" of your life and wondering how you got where you are, and yet knowing that you made each choice that brought you to where you are.


And I love that third verse, where he describes conflict like "the feelings that rage and run beneath the bridge." Getting over the conflict is the bridge on which you're standing -- but it does not deny that there were raging feelings.


And once again I am speechless that this wonder of words and music came from a very flawed man -- what does this tell me about God, from Whom the wonder comes?


Wow.


xoxox



You can find this song by Rich Mullins, "Hello Old Friends" at Rhapsody.com.

Hello, Old Friends

What's your favourite song?

Personally, I can never decide on just one. It's like asking who is my favourite daughter. They're all my favourites at different times, and all the time in different ways. I tell each of them that she's my favourite -- and nobody puts much stock in it, because I say it to all of them all of the time. And yet nonetheless, it's so true.

My favourite song? Music is something that moves me, moves my heart and my soul and touches me in very intimate places in my heart. It reaches in with wispy, spirit-fingers that sometimes soothe, sometimes calm, and often stir things up.

One song today came to mind as I was thinking about what to write here. My readings today in scripture were all about men avoiding loose women (Proverbs), Jesus in Gethsemane (Luke), and David calling down hellfire on his enemies (Psalms). Nothing really struck me, or stood out to me as something I wanted to talk about.

But I was reminded of this particular song -- one of my favourites --

Hello, old friends

There's really nothing new to say

The old, old story bears repeating

And the plain old truth grows dearer every day

When you find something worth believing

That's a joy that nothing can take away

Which translates to this in my brain:

Dear Mom,

Nothing much going on today. Same old same old. Jesus is still my Saviour, and died on the cross and rose again, alive. What good news! The fact that God has forgiven my sins through our Lord's sacrifice grows more precious to me each day. The economy is bad, times are hard, but I thank God that we are in the palm of His hand, and nobody can grab us out.

love,

jen

xoxoxox

God's (lack of an) Answering Machine

God met me more than halfway, He freed me from my anxious fears . . . God's angel sets up a circle of protection around us while we pray. . . Worship God if you want the best; worship opens doors to all His goodness. . . Is anyone crying for help? God is listening, ready to rescue you. If your heart is broken, you'll find God right there; if you're kicked in the gut, he'll help you catch your breath. Disciples so often get into trouble; still, God is there every time.

These verses from Psalm 34 really struck me today. This is probably because Hunk O Man and I had a serious discussion the other night about money -- primarily, the lack of it. We're in the same situation as everyone else in this country; too much month and not enough income.

I got seriously worried the other night, and I seldom get worried about money like that.

(I think this is because I spent so many of my single years poor. I have never been good with money, and I always managed -- although seldom well. To hear that there isn't enough money isn't worrisome to me, because I've got so much experience in doing without it!)

But I was worried the other night. So, I prayed. What else can you do?

I always am convinced that God will meet us in our need. Scripture reiterates it over and over again. My faith in this seems to grow easier and stronger as I age -- although I have to say, there is more to worry about now more than ever. Therein lies the challenge!

So yesterday, I ran around doing the daily things -- met Nancy for coffee (every Thursday), went to a doctor's appointment, stopped at Goodwill. Ran through a list of ideas in my mind about stuff I can make and sell on Etsy. Prayed about getting a job. Called Hunk O Man and talked to him about a lot we own and have been trying to sell for a couple of years.

Now, Hunk O Man is a connector of people. He is the greatest networker I have ever met. The man knows everyone. He amazes me all the time.

So when I picked up he and the Bug on my way home from my appointment, I wasn't surprised when he offered to run interference for me with some people in the school system. He knows them all, so he offered to introduce me to the "powers that be."

This turned into a quick stop at the school administration office, and about an hour long visit with a Dottie, a lovely woman whom I was delighted to meet. It turns out that as soon as a couple of formalities are completed, I'll be able to start substitute teaching at the high school. And Dottie tells me I can probably work every day if I like.

You know, that's some pretty fast answered prayer. Me working would take some of the pressure off our finances. And it's not just any job -- it's working in the schools where my children already are, and on a flexible schedule that enables me to work when I like and not work when I can't.

He really is there, right there, every time. The God that loves and protects me is looking out for me and my family, specks of dust that we are (in the scope of creation), with a love that simply will not ever stop.

On our answering machine, you hear Bug saying "Hi, this is the Wesner's; you know how we never answer the phone, so leave a message!"

Never once have I needed to leave a message with God, and never once have I gotten his machine. I'm pretty sure He doesn't have one. Thank you, Lord!

xoxoxox

Jesus Delight vs. Turkish Delight

3:5-12 Trust God from the bottom of your heart;

don't try to figure out everything on your own.

Listen for God's voice in everything you do, everywhere you go;

He's the one who will keep you on track.

Don't assume that you know it all.

Run to God! Run from evil!

Your body will glow with health,

your very bones will vibrate with life!

Honor God with everything you own;

give him the first and the best.

Your barns will burst,

your wine vats will brim over.

But don't, dear friend, resent God's discipline;

don't sulk under his loving correction.

It's the child he loves that God corrects;

a father's delight is behind all this.

I am really growing to love the Proverbs. Why haven't I been reading these all my life? I guess it's because they seem so A-D-D -- all kinds of great stuff, but it's all so random.

But this section from Proverbs 3 today is just plain good common sense. I resolved a long time ago that if Jesus were a myth and the resurrection a lie, Christianity still would be the best way to live.

Fortunately, Jesus is not a myth and the resurrection is our salvation!

I suppose the thing that keeps me from "listening for God's voice in all I do" is simply the daily-ness of everyday life. I do it for awhile, then I forget, then it's a habit to forget, then I don't do it, and then I wonder why I stopped. But why, when the benefits are so great?

It's like eating healthy -- you know that you'll feel great if you do that and exercise. But the path of least resistance says sit and blog for hours at the computer. Or occupy your brain with mindless things like television and computer games -- none of which will change a life or be Christ to someone else.

Now I am not speaking here to you, the busy mom who can barely get a shower during the day. You need to sit and let your brain go to mush. Maybe the most spiritual thing you can do today is take a nap or even better, a bubble bath!

But for those of us who could be doing a million things that would make a difference and instead choose the path of chocolate, soda, and a crossword puzzle, it might be better to pay a little attention. Make a little effort.

I love two places in this passage -- first, where He says "He's the one who will keep you on track." Thank goodness I don't have to do it all myself.

The second place is this: "A father's delight is behind all this."

I, Chief of Sinners, Chocolate and Soda Consumer and Doer of Crossword Puzzles Instead of Something Productive, am so incredibly thankful for my Father's delight.

I had a friend once who said that maybe the sun keeps rising every morning because God just can't get enough of it. Maybe, like a child, He says "Do it again!" God is full of delight in His creation, and we are the stars of that creation.

I desperately want that same delight that comes from allowing Him to keep me on track. And how can I lose, when He makes it so easy?

Lord, please give me a big trust in You today, just like you give me my next breath and my next heartbeat. You are so -- so -- so -- DELIGHTFUL. Amen!

xoxoxox

A Little Laughter

I have a heavy heart today. Not depressed -- believe me, I know the difference! But heavy, as in saddened by things I can't fix. I watched the Oscars last night -- what a show! It was mostly pretty good; Hugh Jackman rocked! But I was saddened to see how we rewarded "Milk."

Put it any way you like -- I am for homosexuals and against homosexuality. The same way I'm for lusters and against lust. Just like I'm for adulterers and against adultery. Or for murderers and against murder. Or for gossips and against gossiping.

Let's face it, the foot of the cross is level ground, because in the end it really doesn't make any difference what it is that separates you from God. What matters is that we're separated.

It seems like rewarding the bad behaviour amounts to looking the opposite direction of the bridge -- the bridge being Jesus, of course. For most people, it's just easier to try and get sinners on their side rather than to get themselves on the side of Jesus. As if majority ruled or something. And honestly, campaigning seems like a lot more work and energy than just joining the other side.

Ah, if only I realised this on a daily basis and quit putting all my energy into the wrong things!

Since all this makes my heart heavy, I thought I'd share with you a little story, totally Barbie. This happened when she was 6 years old (she's now 16):

Hunk O Man asked Barbie about her Sunday School lesson that day.

She said "It was about the Good Samaritan.."

He then asked her for the details of the story, just to see if she'd been paying attention -- because not only was this a 6-year old, this was our Barbie.

She related the details of the story of the Good Samaritan pretty well. Hunk O Man was impressed! He then asked her what she'd learned from this particular story.

Barbie didn't even hesitate:

"Well two things, Daddy. First of all, if you're going on a walk like that, always take an adult with you. And second, you should always remember to take your cell phone in case you need to call 911."

Never let it be said that God's Word isn't always relevant in today's day and age.

xoxox

Holy Moments

I read this today in Luke 8:34-36 --

They came to Jesus and found the man from whom the demons had been sent, sitting there at Jesus' feet, wearing decent clothes and making sense. It was a holy moment, and for a short time they were more reverent than curious.

This whole passage is very familiar to me because I have been in ministry for all my adult life and I went to Bible college. But it may not be familiar to you. It's the story of the man who was possessed by demons in a place called Geresenes. Briefly -- it goes like this:

When Jesus asked the name of the demon, it replied "Legion, for we are many." And Jesus cast the demons out of the man and into a nearby herd of pigs, and the pigs ran off a cliff and died. As the hours passed, people heard what happened and came and saw, and then the guy who owned the pigs got all upset that his herd was gone, and people started gossipping -- and then everyone was upset and Jesus had to leave.

I've read this story many, many times. And in several versions -- although I always use "The Message" nowadays. For me, this is a classic case of how reading the Bible always gives you something new. I don't remember ever hearing that in those brief moments after the demon-possessed man was rid of the demons, he was then clothed, making sense, and it was a holy moment.

Holy moments tend to slip by me regularly. But every so often I will catch one. I had one last night with Babydoll, who has the flu and a bad cough. We bundled up and went outside for about 10 or 15 minutes, because she still gets something akin to croup. The damp night air calms her larynx and eases the swelling, making her airway more clear.

We stood there with our arms around each other. She still fits very neatly under my chin, although she's growing still. We looked at the beautiful, beautiful stars, and I sang her a lullaby, and sang Jesus Loves Me, and a praise song called I Love You Lord.

It was a holy moment. Just me and my baby girl and God, praising His creation and beauty and taking the time to let Him heal her. It was the present and the past, now and all the times I'd done it before when she really was a little baby or a toddler. It was precious.

O Lord, please open our eyes and slow us down. We long for those holy moments with you. They are precious and one of the sweet gifts you give us. Thank you for our Saviour Jesus, Amen.

xoxox

Making bread

I don't generally buy bread. I can't believe the price of a decent loaf of bread these days. Even the little discount-day-old stores are too much. Good grief. Bread is so cheap to make that it should only cost about 29 cents to buy. In my humble opinion, of course.

My mom gave me an Oster bread maker about 15 years ago as a Christmas gift. I wore it out, took a sister's machine (Mom gave them to all of us), and wore that one out. Then I bought a Zoji that makes bread like a regular loaf, and I've had it ever since.

Today, we're out of bread. This happens every 2-3 days or so. Hunk O Man will generally mention it, and this is my signal that I have to load up the bread machine that night so there will be a fresh loaf in the morning.

I've been on strike this week and last week, so I'm not cooking at all. Last week, Barbie made the bread. It was FABULOUS. Very light and perfectly formed. She now is up there with JB in the "We Make Great Bread" category. I fall in and out depending on how much salt I add. Rose insists she is terrible at it. I think she just doesn't want to do it.

Bread-making is just not an exact science. There are so many variables.

I think this is true about not just the bread I make, but my walk with God. It's never an exact science. It's not all "just do this or that" and things will turn out fine. If that were true, the Hebrews of old would have been perfect, and Jesus wouldn't have needed to come set us free from sin.

Today I read this from Luke 6:48-49 -- words from Jesus himself --

"If you work the words into your life, you are like a smart carpenter who dug deep and laid the foundation of his house on bedrock. When the river burst its banks and crashed against the house, nothing could shake it; it was built to last. But if you just use my words in Bible studies and don't work them into your life, you are like a dumb carpenter who built a house but skipped the foundation. When the swollen river came crashing in, it collapsed like a house of cards. It was a total loss."

It would be so nice to just set my life on auto every 2-3 days and wake up with a wonderful, perfect life that obeyed God and lived out what I read daily. If only kneading His Words into my life were as easy as turning on the bread machine.

The ingredients are there, the process is there -- but am I doing it daily? The best way to check is just to look around me. Are my girls loving God and loving others? Each other? Are friends making God choices based on some offhand thing I mentioned?

This is the true test, and there you have it straight from the source -- in order to be effective, the Word can't just be read or studied. It needs to be worked into our lives, lived out daily, and having an effect around us. Reading and studying are just the tools we use to get it into us.

The trick is to turn it on. Or you're toast.

xoxox

That Pesky Nuisance

Conflict.

I know that it makes us better people. Stories would be really boring without it. It's the spice in our lives that makes us appreciate all things good.

Personally, I hate it. I hate it in all its many forms and types.

However, I do not avoid it. I never ignore it and happily hope that it will just go away. I am very bad at the dancing around the elephant in the room.

I hate dealing with conflict because it just takes so much brain work. I can break down for you the way I do it:

1. I get mad as all get out and think of all the ways I'm going to just tell off the person with whom I've having the conflict.

2. I realise that this isn't at all what Jesus would do, so I rethink the whole thing and decide to just let it go.

3. I rethink it again and come to the conclusion that Jesus wouldn't just ignore it, He'd address it. As only God could.

4. I go back to the ways I was going to tell the person off and then see if there's some way I can rephrase it all in a loving, kind, Godly way.

5. I give up and go back to the ignoring it all option.

6. See #4.

7. See #5.

The thing about conflict is that it's like we're all rocks in a tumbler and God is turning the wheel. Sometimes we get polished, and the rough edges come off. Sometimes sharper edges form. The trick is to get yourself polished up and outta the danged tumbler until the next time something comes up. Cause let's face it -- it is no picnic in the tumbler. It hurts and it's hard.

Currently I'm having a conflict with a difficult person. She's a control freak and wants to reprimand my kids. This upsets me greatly, but I'm not sure yet how to address it. I think I'll chew on it (pray about it) a LOT more before I say anything. Ah, speaking the truth in love, the challenge of every Prophet (also known as Compulsive Truth Speaker with Little or No Tact).

Last week, I responded to a neighbor kid that had left a used athletic cup in our mailbox on Superbowl Sunday. I took a shoebox, filled it with 6 or 7 old bras that don't fit anyone around here, and put a note inside thanking him for his kind gift and telling him I thought we'd return the favour.

Although Hunk O Man insists that I'm in the process of starting a Neighbor War, I don't think so. I think both things were funny and everybody just needs to calm down. A simple prank doesn't have to turn into a major conflict. Sometimes conflict can be turned into something funny and that lightens everyone up. Case in point.

My husband's family didn't show any conflict at all. I fear this is a great disservice his parents did him. Of course, my family was all yelling and conflict central, and that's not the right way either! I think there is a happy balance, when children can see that parents disagree and the parents can be civil, and even better, can kiss and make up (and make out, as Hunk O Man always says).

Romans 12:18: "If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone."

We all know, if we're honest, that this means keeping our thoughts in check as well as our actions and words. Because if it's in my head or heart, it's likely eventually gonna come out of my mouth.

Ephesians 5:21: "Submit to one another out of reverence for Christ."

Sometimes I do have to just let it go. But I'm hopeful God will continue to give me the words I need to resolve every conflict I face. I want out of that tumbler and fast.

And you know, if you think of it as the tide turning the rocks into sand and polishing sea glass, at least there's a beach . . .


xoxox

New Year's Resolutions

I was thinking about New Year's resolutions earlier last week, and came to some conclusions about myself.

Making these resolutions, i.e., "resolving that I will do this or that," isn't going to do me much good. I can have all the resolve and good intentions possible and still walk wholeheartedly down the wrong path.

Instead, I decided to make some commitments. Or rather, just one commitment.

And that commitment is to pray for self-control.

When I really thought about it, the things I need to do are lose weight, spend less money, exercise more.

The reason I don't do these things is that I have very bad self-control. Little to none. I am one of those immediate gratification people -- I want it, and I want it now. NOW.

So I have committed to pray for self-control in my life. I am seriously committing to asking God (believing) for self-control in every area of my life.

It's like one-stop shopping. I cover all the bases with one fell swoop.

So far I'm doing great with the spending money but not so great with the diet and exercise. But this is a process, and His mercies are new every morning. Everytime I fall down, I get up and pray that prayer again -- "Lord, please provide me with self-control. I know You can."

Yesterday was a bit sunnier, and I was grateful for that. I got a haircut and fresh nails; I'm back to having bangs again, as I've had most of my life. I feel like myself again. I drove kids and kids' friends home from their swim meet last night and felt great about being a mom.

And God, in His great and infinite wisdom, did not see fit to blow one of the 28 pine trees in my yard into my kitchen. Dang. And this although nearly half of central NC blew away last night with the wind. The swim meet was cancelled when the lights all went out.

Today I'm going to try and get control of my domain -- and that means clean house! I am a terrible housekeeper in that I often keep it picked up but seldom clean. I depend on my kids for that. But two days ago I cleaned out the pantry completely and today I need to work on the laundry room and my sewing closet. Just the thought of it makes me sigh, and yet IT MUST BE DONE!

So here's to 2009: I lift my cup of hazelnut coffee in praise of the God who is faithful and who will keep me on track!

xoxox

Odd Things.

Just a few observations.

1. Remember that song you learned in Sunday School about Zaccheus? After the holidays at Mom and Dad's (where Mom bought a Wii so the kids would all have cool stuff to do) --

Miss Jen she had a Wii little arm
And a Wii little arm had she!
It ached and hurt and boy was sore
Cause the-tennis-was-so-fun you see!

Man does my right bicep/tricep ever hurt. Seriously. But I had a bunch O fun playing Wii tennis!

2. After reading about half my blogs that I read -- I have a boatload of catching up to do! -- I have realised that knitting has indeed overtaken the crafting world. Must be Julia Roberts' influence.

I do not knit. It's the straight needles; they trip me up every time. So lodge-ick-callee, I must not be a crafter. Therefore I must be made of wood, and must float, so that makes me a witch? (slight little attempt at a ha-ha there for all the Monty Python fans among us).


3. I didn't make Christmas dresses this year. Everyone's fit from last year -- except Bug, who apparently has grown. Let's just say the top half of the dress is pretty tight! I'm happy that they didn't object to the reuse of last year's fashion. They were gorgeous today as they sang for a precious friend's wedding (that made me cry, and nothing makes me cry!).

4. M&M's still give me a headache. I think it's the combination of the sugar and the dye in the candy. But Santa gave me a large bag of peanut butter ones in my stocking. What's a girl to do?

5. OMG, gotta get on the weight loss this next year.

6. I wished on the most beautiful star of the evening last night as we drove home, going south and east through Ohio, West Virginia, and Virginia. Night fell as we were in the mountains just south of Charleston, WV. I believe it was actually the planet Venus -- but I wished and prayed and found many things for which to be thankful this year. It was an hour or so of silent-in-my-head-all-out-praise to our Lord and King.

I am so grateful. Truly.

Randomness and a Little Preaching.

Sorry I've been so delinquent in my posting lately -- I've been so preoccupied with trying to keep doing normal life while being a world reknown actress as yet undiscovered . . .

Oh, come on. I'm kidding. I have a VERY small part in a local play. My daughter Babydoll is the star, second only to her good friend Shana, who is actually The Big Star. Of the play.

Anyway! Here is my family's latest obsession. Some kids do crack. Our kids do this:

I am not even kidding. The shopping list for yesterday stated "Crack Dressing."

Mama Belle over at The Bayou Belles and Their Beau asks this:

Please, oh please, tell me ... what is the deal with "Twilight" and grown women's fascination with it?

I would also like to know why everyone seems to be bent on filling their minds with all this vampire crap garbage. Folks, it's about VAMPIRES. If the story were this wonderful fabulous love story between Satan and some gorgeous goblin, would you feel the same way?

In the past two weeks, I read three books that I found to be incredibly good. They are "The Circle Trilogy" by Ted Dekker. No vampires. Just a good story about a killer virus that's going to annhiliate the world, and the unequalled love story between Jesus and His bride. No kidding; everytime I think about God now, I think about this love story. Talk about romance! And suspense, and action -- this trilogy has it all.

No vampires. Just these things from Philippians 4:8:

Summing it all up, friends, I'd say you'll do best by filling your minds and meditating on things true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, gracious--the best, not the worst; the beautiful, not the ugly; things to praise, not things to curse. (The Message)

During this Christmas season, the best thing we can do is fill our minds with the things that are all about Christmas -- not things which are about our Enemy.

And as my husband often quotes -- I truly do apologise if I stepped on your toes. I was aiming for your heart.

xox

A Little Genetic OCD

Sometimes we don't realise that we've passed along a genetic trait.

Hunk O Man and I were just on a little shopping trip. We drove by Lowe's and noticed that they have fresh Christmas trees out already. Also, there was a sign for the Optimist Club who will be selling trees in the soccer field next to El Tenampa.

And we had to ask each other, does this mean that their trees are exceptionally cheerful and optimistic?

ANYWAY.

This reminded us both of our first Christmas tree shopping experience, about 6 months after we'd gotten married. Hunk O Man decided that we should go to Hoagland to get a tree at the fire station. Hoagland was about 5 miles south of our town.

When we got there, I saw the most pitiful assortment of Charlie Brown trees I'd ever seen. Of course Hunk O Man walks up to one, pulls it out, and says "How about this one?"

It was about four feet tall and scrawny.

I had a newlywed-bride-fit. "What!" I said. "Are you kidding me? You call that a tree?"

Hunk O Man was clueless. He pulled out tree after tree, only to be met with no, no, and jeesh are you kidding me no.

We finally went to Frank's Nursery and Craft and found a very nicely shaped seven footer, and of course Hunk O Man balked at the price (because he squeaks when he walks). But he bought the perfect tree. For his bride.

Thereafter, he has ceased to make this mistake again. He knows that it will take awhile to get The Right Tree.

I find this odd, but I have to say that as the kids have gotten older and we go to find a tree, the time it takes varies proportionately with the outside temperature.

And we have gotten all kinds. Cut-Your-Own trees, trees from Lowe's and Home Depot, trees with sharp needles which require you risking your life to touch, trees in California which have soft needles and you buy while wearing shorts, trees cut for free from a church elder's property -- in the dark, no less, using car headlights to see, trees in the freezing cold, trees in the balmy warm.

And these days, when we go to get our tree, it is no longer me saying that it's not the perfect tree. I guess I've done this enough times in my life now to figure it out in about 5 minutes. The other 20 minutes is at least two of the girls debating as to whether or not it's The Right Tree. And believe me, then the other three girls get their opinions in and it's at least another 15 minutes to referee the discussion and get a concensus.

Then it's the cool part of watching the people shake out the needles and wrap the tree in a net, and then all of us all climbing all over the minivan with bungee cords attaching it to the roof.

(I've been known run for cover and get in the front passenger seat at this point).

The best fun, always, is the cutting of the net. We actually have treasured video footage of doing this year after year -- taking turns with the scissors, watching the tree explode out of the netting.

And everyone knows when we go to decorate it, nobody gets their hands in the ornament box except the Mama. The Mama will put on the hook and hand out the ornaments. You run the risk of getting your hand swatted, your eggnog confiscated, or your very life taken if you are so brazen as to even consider the idea of sticking your hand into the ornament box.

I am awaiting the day when one of my sons-in-law calls me, and says, "MIL, I cannot believe how long it took your daughter to pick out a stinkin' CHRISTMAS TREE!"

And I will smile. I will disavow any knowledge of this particular daughter's OCD (no matter which one it is). I will be compassionate and understanding.

And then I will reply, "Just wait until you try and stick your hand in the ornament box."

xox

Friday Randomness

I like helping the girls study for tests. One year I learned all the pertinent details about North Carolina's history and the part it played in our country's independence. Last night it was all about how DNA, RNA, viruses, and bacteria work. Seriously microbiology -- stuff about translation and transduction and mutation and cytoplasm and splicocenes.

After two chapters I thought my brain was going to explode. But Rose just kept giving the right answers! My children are brilliant. What can I say?

Well, I can say this: I think they get all that intelligence from their Daddy!

Have you ever heard of Cheap Stingy Bargains? This website has a plethora of deals. A nice freebie list, too. You can get it via email each week. It's especially useful when you are in the market for virtually any electronic device -- but it also has list after list of deals no matter what you seek. Lately I've been printing coupons and checking out money-saving websites and blogs. But I've gotten CSB for a couple of years now.

Another great money-saver is the Dollar Stretcher. You can get both the regular newsletter and a weekly "reader's tips" newsletter via email. It always has good stuff and lots of links to everything frugal.

I'm getting ready today to go freeze to death up in Ohio, which is "Civilization Yankee." (as opposed to "Civilization North, which is just Virginia").

It is amazing to me that I have two roses and all my impatiens still in my yard, blooming. Even my sweet alyssum is still going strong, even though our nighttime temps have been in the 30's and 40's. But my Mama says that it's cold up north. I'll have to break out the turtlenecks and winter coats. Brr. I may have been born there but I most certainly do not belong there.

I belong on a tropical beach with warm ocean water. Most definitely.

And lastly, tonight is the first swim meet of the season. My Rabid-Screaming-Jumping-Up-and-down-Totally-Embarassing-My-Swimmers -Inner-Swim-Mama is about to emerge.

And you know, all that hollering is so effective when their heads are under water. Like they even can hear me. Or would go faster if they actually could hear me.

And that makes me laugh, so I hope it makes you laugh as well. Have a pointlessly screaming good weekend! I will!

xox



p.s. I am totally IN LOVE with these boots, which I could never afford. It's the cute heel --

Thank You, Greta Van Susternen

I was able to watch Greta's interview last night with Sarah Palin at her home making moose chili.

And I realised this:

I have had it with all the Tina Fey impressions of Sarah Palin. No kidding. I'M DONE.

There is absolutely no doubt in my mind that SNL had an impact on voter's impressions of Sarah Palin. In many people's minds, she was a mindless Barbie doll that knew nothing, but apparently was just supposed to look good --

And this makes me furious.

My girls find it hilarious to imitate Tina Fey imitating Sarah Palin. Last night at the dinner table, they started in again. They insist they're not making fun of Sarah Palin, but rather Tina Fey. Even Hunk O Man agreed.

I (vehemently) did not agree. And I am finished with this unending laughter and making fun at Sarah Palin's expense.

Let me just clarify. Let's talk about what Sarah Palin actually, in fact, is:

1. A mother of five children, one under a year old and with Down's Syndrome.
2. The Governor of Alaska
3. The first female governor of Alaska.
4. The youngest governor of Alaska.
5. A state-champion athlete.
6. A former TV-sports reporter with a degree in journalism.
7. She's been married to her husband for 20 years.
8. They eloped because they didn't want their parents bearing the expense of a big wedding.
9. She's a born again Christian with conservative values.

Let me just point out a few things here -- to SNL, Tina Fey, and every kid that finds her imitation of Sarah Palin hilariously funny:

Firstly, you don't get to be Governor of any state by being a brainless beauty pageant contestant.

Secondly, you don't run a household of five kids effectively AND be the governor of any state without being some kind of amazing person. How do I know this? Because I have five kids, and none of them has special needs.

Thirdly, you don't gain the kind of maturity to think enough of your parents to spare them the expense of a big wedding by being a selfish, self-centered airhead.

And let me say this once and for all:

Sarah Palin is a successful, pioneering, amazingly talented woman who is able to balance more elements in her life than most working women. She does this by relying on God.

I admire this woman more than I can say. If I could meet her, I'd thank her for being such an example to those of us who struggle to stay organised and focused.

Now. Enough of this nonsense about this incredible woman. Shame on all of us for laughing at any of it.

xox

But Enough About Me. Let's Talk About You. What Do You Think of Me?

Let me just share a couple of things about myself today. Things I thought you might want to know.

First of all, I have the highest degree possible to attain in the ancient art of Wei-Ning. I know! Impressive, isn't it? I started when I was just a baby, and as of now I'm not only an expert, I have BEEN an expert for most of my life. Just ask my mother.

Wei-Ning? (It's pronounced "Why-ning").

Secondly, I am an excellent mother and I take no nonsense. Here's an example: the twins were 5, Barbie was 4, JB was 2, and Babydoll was 1. I was completely fed up with the mess everywhere. Nobody would help, nobody would put toys away, it was a mess. And of course that was during the crazy-without-drugs days, so I threw a fit. I yelled. I ranted. And I said this: "If you're going to act like pigs, I'm going to treat you like pigs!"

Lunch in those days consisted of PB&J (half sandwich cut in a triangle), a container of yogurt, and some fruit. So in keeping with "treating them like pigs," I fixed everyones plate and set it on the wood floor in the kitchen. 'Fine!' I thought. 'Eat like pigs!'

If you are -- or ever have been -- the mother of a toddler (or several toddlers), you know that this was not at all a punishment. It was rather, a picnic. They were thrilled that I would let them eat off the floor. I can see the thoughts even now running thru their tiny minds -- "No getting strapped into a chair! Wah-hooey! This rocks!"

Obviously I saw their clear enjoyment and I realised that even God was laughing at me, and likely thinking it was far past the time for me to just get over myself. This did not make me happy immediately. But pretty soon I lightened up.

There was another time in my excellent mothering career when we had lots and lots of candy in the house. I think it was probably winter -- January, I think -- when all the Halloween candy and Thanksgiving and Christmas goodies had just piled up. So one night, I was very tired, and it was Sunday night after church, and everyone was looking at me for dinner.

I put all the candy in the center of the table and told them to have at it. That was dinner.

See? I told you I was the best mom. Just ask my kids.

I am missing them all terribly today. True to my utmost degree in Wei-Ning, I cannot be made happy. I am tired of the bickering and constant noise when they are here, and I need a break. Then when three or four of them leave, I miss them terribly.

It's hard to be me. Truly. Let the violins begin.

Hunk O Man, Rose, Bug, and Barbie have been gone on a trip to visit colleges since Tuesday morning. They've had a great time, laughing and seeing people. I've spoken to them every day. The prospects at every school so far are very good.

They'll be home tomorrow, and I can't wait. I do miss them. It's entirely too quiet around here. The dishes take no time at all. There's no laundry. The TV is never on, and the dog is stalking me for lack of people to greet and see. Bleah. Even JB and Babydoll miss them.

Are they home yet?

xox

Winning and Losing

I'm at a loss.

What do you say, when you've prayed and prayed and prayed for a thing, and God still says no?

When you've prayed in faith, believing?

When you've prayed, knowing that the thing for which you pray supports the things of God?

And still, He says no.

Hunk O Man and I went through 3.5 years of infertility. That was years of climbing on tables, getting injections, taking pills, having ultrasounds, blood test after blood test, enough temperature charts to wallpaper a room, and even injections given by Hunk O Man himself.

I prayed and prayed; I questioned God about exactly what stuff was on the divine list of things He wanted me to do (just give me the list!), I begged, I pleaded, I cried. I shut down. I stamped my feet, I shook my fist. I cried some more.

And I hate to admit that it took 3.5 years for God to get one simple concept across to me, but it did. I am rather thick-headed about some things. Honestly, I really felt like such an idiot when I finally figured it out.

And it was simply this, that God had been saying to me all along --

"I'm in charge here."

No kidding. That was it, that was all. I was unable to control the situation, and I wasn't getting my way.

So -- it was up to me to decide whether or not I was going to completely trust my Father in Heaven, or I was going to insist on having my way, and upon not getting it, throwing a lifelong fit over it.

Well, obviously I chose to trust Him. Kind of a duh choice, huh? To me, really, not even much of a choice at all, given that He is Creator of the universe and all.

During that time, I read a book called "Trusting God" by Jerry Bridges. It changed the way I viewed God. It completely turned my faith upside down and inside out. God used it, and God spoke to me through it.

So . . .

When I look at all the energy and time I put into praying for the election yesterday, and its outcome, I have to go back to what I learned a long time ago.

And five beautiful, wonderful, twins-the-first-time children ago.

"Hello, Princess. This is God. I'm still in charge."

Oh! That's right, HE is in charge after all!

Not the people of America, not the electoral college, not popular opinion, not the media.

JESUS is in charge.

Just for reassurance, I looked up John 19:10-11, which is where Pilate asks Jesus if He realises that Pilate has the authority to pardon Him -- and Jesus reminds Pilate that Pilate has no authority that wasn't granted to him by God.

How I am thanking Him for that!
I smile at the warmth that envelopes me with this knowledge! With this assurrance!

And what a call to prayer this is, for all of us who hit our knees for our nation. What an opportunity for us to stand in the gap for this great nation and all our military. What a challenge to us to rise to this responsibility -- to whom much is given, much will be required. For the next four years and beyond, our prayers must be ceaseless. And our trust in the God who controls all things must be unwavering.

So, all in all, whew! God is still in His heaven, He still loves those whom He has called, and despite all reports to the contrary -- all is right with the world.

xox