Front Row Seating

Cannonball!

2012-01-28T05:19:00.000-08:00

I did the unspeakable yesterday and walked my kids up to the neighborhood park. Its pretty far on foot, farther than I realized, so I had plenty of time to think about stuff. Taylor came along with me riding her bike and Zi and Mars were in the double stroller. Now somehow since we came off of the mission field our family has expanded and I don't me in family members but in the size of each of our members, do you get my drift??? We work hard for God and come home and eat pasta late at night and don't have time to play outside and run around the yard and stuff. Anyway, we are working on that. So back to the walk. Taylor knows how to ride a bike, but our neighborhood is really hilly and she's not really confident. She will come to a hill and walk her bike down it slowly. I asked her why and she told me she's scared of losing control and a car coming around a corner and hitting her or something. My heart cringed. I flashed back to my own childhood when my sister and I would sneak off to ride our bike down the biggest hill in the neighborhood. It was so steep you had to walk your bike up and burn you brakes on the way down. We would wear ourselves out climbing up and streaking down with our long hair streaming wildly behind us. My mom hated it and would tell us of all the things that could go wrong and we didn't care. It was fun! Or how about jumping into the pool first thing in the morning, I mean as soon as you woke up and the water being so cold you just knew the only way you could get your body in there was to jump in. Run jump cannonball, ice cold water enveloping your whole being and it was breathtaking! What had I done to my child in raising her to think of all the contingencies? I want them to be smart and cautious but not afraid.

Jump ahead to the park that we finally arrived at and I'm brooding over this entire parenting dilemma and how I've ruined my child forever through my poor life coaching skills. But then I catch Emari pushing some kid out of her way on the slide and she's jumping off the dangerous parts of the equipment and screaming in delight and a big kid runs into and sends her sprawling in the dirt and she gets up, shakes the wood chips out of her hair and keeps going. I'm worried for an instant that she might get hurt or some parent will get upset with her and I realize that my heart has reached an equilibrium. Two children, same parents, same environment, different responses.

We are going to work on both of the extremes here in our house of course, but applying this concept to my own life I realize I need to find my own equilibrium. Considerate but not overly cautious to the point of not doing anything at all. I read somewhere recently that a clenched fist can hold onto what it has but not receive anything else. So simple but true.

Why I Hate Toy Story 3

2011-09-03T09:09:00.000-07:00

NO, no I'm not a boycotter of all things Pixar or Disney or make believe or what have you. I hate the movie not for its content or message but for the power it has over me. Now to be truthful I haven't actually sat through the entire movie. That's because I can't. It makes me cry and you know how I feel about crying in front of people aka my children. They'll think I'm a wuss or something. But really Toy Story 1 and 2 are wonderful movies, but not the dreaded 3! I can't even stand to hear it. Just today I walked through the living room where one of my children had it paused and even in stilled form I felt it begin.

Let's clarify here okay. Andy is Tony to me. They played together, packed up their toys together, and dagum went ahead and grew up on me. Just writing about it drives me to tears. Will this torture never end? The bittersweet torment of a mother who grew a man and now has to let him go. He's not quite gone yet and I won't bore you with the intricacies of my love for him and all he represents to me, just know that I mourn his wonderful metamorphosis quietly so as to not embarrass or alarm him. But dang I hate Toy Story 3.

In-Laws

2011-08-14T05:41:00.000-07:00

If you haven't already noticed through reading my blog or by knowing me personally, my family is a fruitful one. Not just me and my husband, but the in laws too. If you recall my last pregnancy I was sharing time with both my husband's sisters and my sister in law. Fast forward two years later and I'm the odd one out, here they go again. My sister this time and Josh's sisters again. We love babies, and our husbands of course. My kiddos gained two new cousins just this week two days apart. Jack Cohen and Gabriela Cricket. Beautiful babies, beautiful mamas, but this blog I wanna talk about something else, something generally passed over. The daddies, my brothers in law.

I love weddings and baby births. Two things I love to be a part of. But I'm the one not so much watching the bride or mama. I focus on the guy. It never ceases to amaze me. The look on his face when he sees his bride gliding slowly down the aisle or the glint of pride in his eyes while he's showing off his new little baby. This week as I was visiting the girls I just couldn't get away from the thought of what a true blessing a good man is. A daddy. So many people struggle through life without one. I am so glad that my children are surrounded by great men who love their wives and children.

Trey, Manny, Adam, Aaron, and Josh, thanks for holding our hands and reminding us to, "Just breathe, baby!"

Funky

2011-08-08T18:08:00.000-07:00

Do you ever have one of those days where you wake up and feel like the sun shining through your window is sparkling just for you? Morning commute prayer time is like kneeling before the throne of God and placing your requests at His feet personally? Smile on my face, pep in my step. You know what's coming next don't you? Slam, sucker punch right in the gut, air pulled from my lungs, trying not to let my lower lip quiver. What was that? Somebody tell me I just dreamed that and I'm gonna wake up in a second. Response time: cry, pray, cry some more, tell somebody what just happened, suck it up, move on. The ground just disappeared beneath my feet, but I'm gonna dig and scrape my way up the other side. No stopping this girl. Every set back is just another opportunity to implement the change step. The show must go on.

Abasement Stories

2011-08-07T03:10:00.000-07:00

Paul learned to be abased and to abound and to be content in both places. I'm still learning. I struggle with entitlement. The inner dialogue begins, "God I've been working so hard for you...., so why did this happen to me???" Again and again and again. My great desire is a trendy prayer room in downtown Fayetteville, with the capacity to span the generations and the denominations. My present situation: a basement. Kind of ironic huh? God deals with me like this. College bound? Teen mom. Yearn for companionship? Learn to battle loneliness. Want an amazing marriage? Deal with this....first. Want to counsel others? Six kids...handle them with care. The hardship leads to the testimony leads to the victory. True victory is found in the telling. My story is what reminds me of His goodness, not my own. The deeper the descent the steeper the ascent. Abase me and abound me Lord.

Historic Downtown

2011-08-06T09:15:00.000-07:00

I haven't always loved Fayetteville, but I have always loved its downtown. Even back in the day when Hay Street conjured up different images like Rick's and the Korean Lounge. If you have lived here for any amount of time, you know what I'm talking about. The night before our first daughter was born back in 1995, Josh and I were there walking up and down the streets admiring the faded beauty. We were ecstatic when things started being renovated and never cease to be astonished at the changes that have come. The pull to have a prayer house in the midst of the Market House has been on our hearts for a few years. So much potential, so much more to reach for. Intimacy and Fire, God's desire for His people in Fayetteville!

Return from the Summer Sojourn

2011-08-05T08:13:00.000-07:00

I know I haven't posted since something like February, but I thought the post title sounded more mysterious. Kind of like I had embarked upon a incredible journey sort of adventure, but for people. Maybe I have. All I know is a lot of emotions have been running around in my brain and I didn't want to be using the blog to just make me feel better. Plus, teaching this year really drained all my creative juices outside the classroom walls and enough of my explaining/complaining. I return now to remind you I'm still here...
So, this summer has been fun. Kids going here and there and me and Josh realizing that we have reached that age in which we enjoy our bed best. We are vehicularly impaired this summer and therefore would not take our entire brood to the beach, mountains, or frankly even to church in one vehicle. Pray with me that our mechanic will be released from whatever it is that is keeping him from dropping the brand new engine into my beloved Expedition.
I got to go to my first ever conference without kids this summer. Global Awakening had a prophetic school in PA and I stepped out and went with a couple of friends. Wow, I forgot how amazing it was to just be a girl. Not a mama, not a pastor's wife, just little ol' me. Thanks Kim and Kathy for letting me tag along. You guys are truly the bestest! Some really great things were opened up to me at the sessions, different and new things. It seems like that's what has been going on with Josh and I for the past three years or so. Things are coming into our line of sight that we probably would never have been opened up to before. While God is a unchanging God we as human vessels are learning more about him everyday. He's just that big, and awesome and multifaceted. As you get close to Him, the light hits just a little different and you notice something you never noticed before. My prayer is that it will always be that way for me, that I never get "grounded" in a particular way of seeing Him.

Always Good...

2011-02-05T06:06:00.000-08:00

Do I really believe that? I remember the pastor saying, "God is good" and the congregation would respond, "All the time!" and there were times that I doubted. When my whole world is turning around and around and the bottom drops out and I can't find my bearings. He's the one ripping off the covers and making me face those things that I've hidden from. Where is my belief that He's always good? Is He really always, always good? I can so quickly turn into the people of Israel and complain just like them. Did you deliver me from that, to kill me with is? Really how shallow, how ridiculous; that question doesn't even make sense. Where's the trust in that mode of thinking? In that perspective I'm essentially saying, "I'll handle this I just needed you for that, God." But what we fail to understand is that He is in everything, really, really. Look for the goodness, look for Him. He always gives us the grace to to go through with it. Success cannot be measured by our weak, human eyes. We can only attain it by pursuing Him and taking all that He gives us, not running from the bad, the difficult, the scary things and embracing the lovely and good only.

Mountain Climbing

2011-02-03T12:40:00.000-08:00

The way is steep, the path narrow, but the perspective is so much better. I climb this mountain and it takes my breath at times, and my calves scream from the stretching of muscles out of use. At its base I can't see around it, can't tunnel through it, can't dig under it, the only way is up and over. But the view is indescribable to those who don't make the trek. Things look different from above, from His viewpoint. You can see over the circumstances, the way to come, further into the distance. On the way, He leaves little traces of His own steps, love notes for you to read, treasures for you to find. Here's one He left for me on the trail this morning:

Luke 12

22-24He continued this subject with his disciples. "Don't fuss about what's on the table at mealtimes or if the clothes in your closet are in fashion. There is far more to your inner life than the food you put in your stomach, more to your outer appearance than the clothes you hang on your body. Look at the ravens, free and unfettered, not tied down to a job description, carefree in the care of God. And you count far more.
25-28"Has anyone by fussing before the mirror ever gotten taller by so much as an inch? If fussing can't even do that, why fuss at all? Walk into the fields and look at the wildflowers. They don't fuss with their appearance—but have you ever seen color and design quite like it? The ten best-dressed men and women in the country look shabby alongside them. If God gives such attention to the wildflowers, most of them never even seen, don't you think he'll attend to you, take pride in you, do his best for you?

29-32"What I'm trying to do here is get you to relax, not be so preoccupied with getting so you can respond to God's giving. People who don't know God and the way he works fuss over these things, but you know both God and how he works. Steep yourself in God-reality, God-initiative, God-provisions. You'll find all your everyday human concerns will be met. Don't be afraid of missing out. You're my dearest friends! The Father wants to give you the very kingdom itself.

Leaning down to tighten up my hiking boots I trudge on, knowing that He's got the vantage point I want to look for.

Say Uncle!

2011-02-02T07:06:00.000-08:00

Wave after wave, trouble upon trouble it mounts and I fight for the surface and beat back the foe. But what if I'm not being bullied, what if I don't think about giving up and crying for release? What if I don't hide from the next storm, but instead I speak to it and learn to exercise my voice and authority? Change my perspective and realize that everything that comes to me comes through His hands first, no matter if I recognize it as good or not. What if I really believe what He says, all that He says? What if I stop saying Uncle and start saying Abba...

Gratitude Journal and the Book of Job

2011-01-31T11:11:00.000-08:00

So I heard somewhere recently how a person should never say that their troubles are akin to the trials of Job, and I agree. I told you all in my last post how I started reading that amazing book and to go along with it I began keeping a Gratitude Journal. Now, in this space of my life I really really need this to keep perspective. I complained and got tears in my eyes and all for my husband today, and asked him the age old question, "When is it bad enough?" Wanna know his answer? "Have you ever thought it was good?" Of course, I have, I'm just not as emotional or vocal at those times. So I keep writing about the little things and find myself in a situation similar to the victim of a disaster picking through the rubble to find something salvageable.

1. unexpected gifts delivered to my classroom by my first born.
2. the stillness of the house when its just me and God.
3. clear sky full of stars
4. daughter's quiet voice singing along with God-songs on the radio
5. pink clouds behind barren trees
6. quiet voices in the next room
7. early morning hugs from princesses
8. hearing the soft whisper of His voice even in the little things
9. Rob Thomas and White Merlot on the wine aisle
10. the silent invitation of a lamp
11. the quiet of early morning
12. big brother and little sister cuddled
13. apple fritters
14. garments replaced
15. new gallon of milk and a full tummy
16. instructions repeated (again)
17. a new church growing one person at a time
18. watching my husband, the pastor, find his bearings and climb up high
19. teenage sons who still kiss mama and daddy good night
20. waking up with arms around me
21. car to put gas in
22. job to go to
23. electricity and a portable heater
24. reading in context

I guess its not bad enough yet...

Eyes Wide Open

2011-01-30T04:37:00.000-08:00

I love to read! My joy is found in reading those books that pop up at just the right time to bring correction, direction, focus, to what it is that I find myself struggling with. Over Christmas break I found this blog,

and fell in love instantly. The daily blogs are beautiful, the pictures draw you in. We used the Jesse Tree Advent and the girls loved it too. As soon as our finances allowed I bought the book by the blog's author, Ann Voskamp.

The book is just as beautiful. It came to me last Wednesday, on the afternoon of a no-good, horrible, I don't-think-I can-take-much-more-of-this day. As I opened up our screen door to walk into the next phase of the beforementioned chaos, there the beautiful, brown Amazon box lay, at my feet, and even though I had expected it, it was still a gift, from God, to me. A such a time as this moment. So, I hurried through my before Core chores, and abandoned my husband to the burrito making. I ran a bath, because that's the only place in our house, where I can read and cry and pray all at the same time and nobody's gonna walk in on me. And so it began, me reading another girl's story which feels to me an awful lot like my own and I'm finding grace to plod on and redemption in her invitation to focus on the gift that life is. My life, no matter what comes, has God all over it, woven through, and I have to look around to find it each day. I'm loving it. Check it out!

Mamas, Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up to Marry Pastors

2011-01-21T05:55:00.000-08:00

Don't be confused by the title. I absolutely love my husband. However, I find it crucial at times to encourage others to remember that I didn't marry a pastor, I married a man. Granted he was a pastor's son, but he assured me that he was gonna grow up and be something cool like a missionary martyr. I mean, really, I remember clear as day the moment he told me that he intended to give up his life for Christ by the time he was 25. I still married the weirdo. Point is, no one marries a profession, they marry a person. Pastor's wives seem to have it especially hard because no one else seems to believe this.

A pastor's wife has to:

cook and decorate like Martha Stewart
sing like Aretha
love like Mother Theresa

and that's just what the congregation expects. Add on to that:

kids who behave like the Duggars
the wardrobe of a queen ( I was gonna say a celebrity, but queens have to dress modestly, they are never allowed to be caught in a mini skirt or tight pants)

My husband is called to minister to the church, I'm called to minister to the man. Ya see, if I don't do my job well, you won't get a very good pastor. The phone calls he picks up at 3 am?They wake me up too. The emergency trip to visit someone at the hospital? Family time lost. That outfit he wears on Sunday? I washed, dried, and hung it up in the closet. The smile on his face, yeah that's me too. No one else gets the responsibility or joy of cheering him on, being the one person he looks to in the crowd to make sure his sermon is hitting home and making sense. Geez, this is a tough job.

You may think its horrible that I'm not volunteering for nursery, or leading a women's ministry, or attending every event imaginable in the church, but my first ministry is to the man who leads the people. No one else can fill that position. So, mama, don't raise your daughter to marry a pastor, or a soldier, or a firefighter, (insert any job description here). I warn you. Train her to be a wife to a man, then the rest will all fall into place.

Mendacity

2011-01-15T14:10:00.000-08:00

Big Daddy: Now tell me, what are you disgusted with?
Brick: Mendacity. You know what that is. It's lies and liars.
Big Daddy: Who's been lyin' to ya? Maggie? Has your wife been lyin' to ya?
Brick: No. Not one lie, not one person. The whole thing.

One of my all time favorite movies, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof: Paul Newman, Elizabeth Taylor, cinematic gem that one. I watched it last week while Josh was in China, and I love it more and more. This time, something different came out of the screen at me, though. It was the dialogue above about mendacity. Now, I've watched this movie a dozen times, but it really struck a chord in me.

Mendacity: lack of honesty

Some of the synonyms are fabrication, fairy tale, lie

In the past couple of months some stuff has come to light for me personally that I can no longer push behind a curtain, or cover with a blanket, or stuff into a closet. Its smack dab in yo face hanging out in my living room frankness. I'm not sure if I never knew it was there before or if I'm just that good at sneaking around behind my own back. But no hiding it, its there screaming in my face to step up and take it down. Its not sin, its not really anything in particular, its like Brick said, the whole thing. I get this feeling like God is saying, "I'm tired of the mendacity, Amber. Take care of this stuff and come further and higher with Me." How I lie to myself, how I live in this world of tomorrows and some days. He's made me for now, for forever. There's no time constraint on His work in Me, but I've got to stop living in another dimension of fantasy. In some ways things aren't as bad as I think they are and in other ways they're worse. One thing remains, the lie has got to end. I've got to square up with this thing and approach it head on, take it down. The first step is the acknowledgement, but there is no truth until there is a turning away and moving onwards.

Two Days of Delays

2011-01-14T05:42:00.000-08:00

If you don't have a child in the Cumberland County School system than you may not be aware of this, but this school week has been a complete bust. We had three days of snow, which as both a mother and a teacher I think it best to keep the kids at home, for their safety and the teacher's sanity. Mommy-me was ready to send my cabin-fever-ridden children off on any bus by Tuesday afternoon. The snow was starting to melt and just created a muddy mess for my kitchen floor to be tracked with. The kids had exhausted their imaginations, Wii, and Netflix. Walmart was a legitmate solution to this dilemma. When in doubt, head to Wally World; works like a charm. After one trip, we were all ready to come back home, snuggle by the fire and get along again.

Daddy came home from China late Wednesday night and school was delayed Thursday morning; which made for a leisurely morning in our house. School on the other hand was another force to be reckoned with. One hundred kiddos who had been stuck inside for three days, trying hard to defrost their brains long enough to learn something, while still not being able to play outside during recess due to the icy conditions on the jungle gym. Whew! Add more drama through a busted water main on Ramsey Road which cut water to 3/4 of PWC's customers and the CCS is back on the delayed list. I however, was in the dark about the ramifications of no water and my children's education correlation so I proceeded to drop my sophomore off at school. Much to her chagrine, there was not a soul there. Apparently, only 4 parents had not got the memo about school delays this morning and shuttled their offspring to school. My social bug daughter took her chance to avoid more quality time with her sisters at home and stayed at school until the rest of the student body arrived. That's dedication! The rest of us are lounging around watching Spongebob and sipping coffee. Did I mention there's no school on Monday for MLK Day?

Imposed Rest and Anesthesia

2011-01-12T05:32:00.000-08:00

Don't think I'm weird for saying this, but sometimes I feel like God sets me up. Sometimes I can tell when its happening, other times I can only see it when I look back at the situation. Let me explain. I am the type of person who likes to stay busy. My busy may look different than your busy, but its my attempt to keep moving, put off stagnation. Busy may be reading a book in the tub, cleaning out a closet, playing with my kids, or any number of activities large and small. I hate having nothing to do. So, even when I'm on vacation, I'm cleaning up after people and organizing drawers and such. God's not into that.

He set a standard of weekly rest by HIs own example. He in His omnipotence and omniscience and omnipresence deigned it imperative to take a little breather at the end of creation week. Not because He had to, but because He knew we would need it. Think about it. If you buzz around all week, not taking a moment to take it all in, what is the point of what you're doing? That's not life. God stopped after each thing He created and recognized the worth of what He was doing. I don't often do that. I sometimes don't even know why I'm doing a task.

The first time I noticed this imposed rest in my own life was two years ago when I was pregnant with Zion and the doctor put me on bedrest. Hated it! If it would have just been for my own good, no one could have convinced me to lay around on the couch for three long months, but no, they had to go and put the guilt trip on me and bring my unborn baby into the equation. So I laid around watching tv and reading and bossing people around from my corner of the living room. But during the quiet parts of the day, when the kids were at school and Josh was busy at work and Emari was taking a nap, my world would close in and I'd have to really look at things. Rest forces you to slow down and examine.

I started to realize that I keep busy for less than admirable reasons. All that activity has a numbing effect. I stop thinking about why I'm doing this and where I'm going and instead keeping moving forward aimlessly. It all becomes robotic and automatic. Where are you headed? Oh I don't know this is the direction I was facing before so I'll just keep walking this way. Huh? This is the way my parents were walking so I'll just follow their lead? What? Do I even remember what I'm doing all this for? Vaguely...

Stop right there. Good.

Breathe for a minute.

Look around at the scenery. Do you know where you are right now? Do you like the look of the place that you're at?

Can you remember why you headed out on this journey?

Sit down for a while and clear your head.

Here eat this, you're gonna need some energy for the steps ahead.

Now isn't it nice to take a moment and talk to Me about where you're going?

You're doing a good job, by the way. I love you.

Ok back on your feet. Get moving.

Psalms 23

^1-3 God, my shepherd! I don't need a thing.
You have bedded me down in lush meadows,
you find me quiet pools to drink from.
True to your word,
you let me catch my breath
and send me in the right direction.

⁴ Even when the way goes through
Death Valley,
I'm not afraid
when you walk at my side.
Your trusty shepherd's crook
makes me feel secure.

⁵ You serve me a six-course dinner
right in front of my enemies.
You revive my drooping head;
my cup brims with blessing.

⁶ Your beauty and love chase after me
every day of my life.
I'm back home in the house of God
for the rest of my life. (Psalm 23, The Message)

Entitlement

2011-01-11T07:35:00.000-08:00

Do you ever stop to reexamine your own motivations? I do, maybe too much. I am the extreme introvert, constantly looking inwardly. Lately, the Lord has really been dealing with me on my perspective and outlook. "Amber, do you ever think that maybe some of your disappointment is based on the fact that you feel entitled to that new outfit, manicure, date night, perfect child, compliment, etc?"

That's God talking, by the way. Now, maybe for you its something else. Life, hasn't been perfect or easy for any of us, now has it? We can all sit back and judge others, and based on what they have or the way they handle themselves determine whether or not we think they deserve it. But can we really be accurate judges of others motivations? The Bible says we need to not envy, not judge, work out our own salvation daily, be a servant to all. Those things all deal with entitlement, what we think we deserve. Remember, people of God, don't desire what others have, you don't know the price they had to pay, don't judge their motives, you haven't walked in their shoes, keep your eyes on your own struggles, help others with their's with a pure motivation.

The wages of our sin is death; that is what we all deserve, what we are all entitled to. But we don't often get caught up in that little quandry, do we? We somehow skip over that part and start giving God our list of reasons why we shouldn't have to put up with whatever it is we're dealing with at the moment. "But God, I've been faithful to you my whole life, I've never stolen anything, or cheated or lied, or acted like that person over there. Why do I have to go through this?" His answer is this, "Pick up your Cross and follow Me."

So, the next time your inner man starts bringing up what you deserve, remember Who it was that came down to earth and died a death that He didn't deserve, so that we, who truly deserved it, wouldn't have to.

Saturdays

2010-12-18T02:45:00.000-08:00

For some reason I can't explain, I can't sleep in on Saturdays anymore. All week I have to drag myself out of bed just to get the kids off to school and work on time, but not the weekend...oh no! I'm bright eyed and bushy tailed at 4 AM. Figures.

I'd love to be the Proverbs 31 woman who rises before her household and makes an amazing breakfast and has everybody's clothes ironed before the the sun rises, but I've inherited the lazy gene that compels the children to eat cold cereal in a cup in the car as we speed away in wrinkled school uniforms. Saturday is another story, still no amazing breakfast and no ironed clothes, but who needs perfectly pressed to run around outside and roll in the dirt anyway?

The uniqueness of this particular Saturday is that all my beautiful babies, except little man up in his crib, are snuggled in close to each other in the living room. For one breathless moment all is right for me as I gaze at my fruit and say it is good. No one fighting, or making messes, or needing advice, just resting, looking like little perfect angels and they're all mine..for now. God gave them to me for a time, and I'm trying my best to do this thing right, and if it takes me being an insomniac on the weekends for God to be able to bring it all into perspective again, so be it.

That's my Sabbath rest, that all my week's pursuits, trying to get this house to the place its supposed to be, with all of its inhabitants following hard after God day after day after day, that it all matters. It matters! Even when the house isn't perfectly clean, and somebody has a cavity, and it seems like its all mundane and cyclical and boring...it matters. They matter, I matter, and He is so worth it.

Cry Baby

2010-11-15T05:59:00.000-08:00

I hate crying. I hate it when other people cry and I especially hate it when I cry. Its unnecessary and messy and kind of selfish. I mean, think about it. When I'm crying, and you're around, you feel a little bit of obligation to come over and ask me what's wrong, right? Suddenly there's this uncomfortable moment where you're not wanting to, but feeling like you should, and I'm hoping you don't, but secretly wish that you would.

Life hurts, sometimes more than others. While I pride myself at not crying in front of people, deeming it as a babyish and wimpy thing to do. I do cry, ALOT. I cry when my kids start school and each year on the last day of school. I cry when they start to walk, or eat on their own, or drive the car, or go on a date. I cry when they need me too much and when it seems like they don't need me at all. I cry when people come to my house every week regularly, and I cry when I invite them for something special but they don't show up. I cry when I trust you and you disappoint me and I cry when I don't even like you but you hurt my feelings.

What is this the purpose of crying and the associated water works? Sadness, pride, joy at times, all in all, it serves the purpose of cleansing the heart. I think the Lord thought I needed a good scouring this week. Sheesh, its been rough. Nevertheless, teach me Lord, whatever it is that I'm not getting and give me the grace to move on in love, not bitterness.

Catharsis

2010-10-26T05:42:00.000-07:00

Big strange word I know, but its what I've been going through. A cleansing and a purging. Nothing really horrible has been going on, except maybe a tsunami brain bath of hormones that I can't seem to escape from. I make a point upon waking to say, "Self, today is going to be a joyful day." But usually by the time I make it to the shower, something has changed my mind about that statement. I have nothing to complain about, my husband is amazing, my kids are healthy, my finances are covered. I just feel lost. This is an excruciating process that I seem to go through every once in a awhile when like a snake shedding its skin, I become irritable and my eyes glaze over and everything rubs me the wrong way. I go through competing bouts of wanting to run away and start all over, and wanting to grab this bull by the horns and ride it out. What is this thing? I feel like if I could name it I could defeat it. I feel like I've disappointed myself. I mean I'm thirty-five and a mommy of six. Blah. What have I done with my life? Yeah, I know I'm raising children up, and I'm married to a church planter. But, what have I done? Is God pleased with my life so far? Am I the only one who thinks this way? Am I going insane?Why do I always have to being doing more, doing things different, pushing further, harder, higher, yet I always feel undone? Rhetorical questions all, but asked of myself everyday during this season I can't seem to snap out of. I feel like my opportunity is leaving, the door of youth is closing, my one chance is almost over. Dang it! I know I'm gonna come out of the other side of this and it will all seem so stupid and inconsequential, but right now, I'm tired.

Set Phasers to Stun

2010-09-17T05:14:00.000-07:00

So I'm a child of Star Trek. Seen all the old, in-between and new episodes, all the movies, and yes, I know the opening monologue by heart, "Space... the final frontier. These are the voyages of the Starship Enterprise. Its continuing mission: to explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life forms and new civilizations, to boldly go where no man has gone before." Oooo, ooo, o-o-o-o-oooo. Warp speed outta the tv screen.

Convinced, yet? Scary isn't it? Anyways, if you don't already know this a lot of the metaphors of my life I get from either movies or songs. This morning as I was cleaning up and rehashing the week in my head, it hit me. Our life in the Goodman house could be compared with the Enterprise. The Captain, Dad, leads shore excursions to check out the flora and fauna of newly discovered lands while the Second, mom, stays on the ship and attempts to keep things on an even keel until the main man returns.

If you ever watched the show, you know that things never went as planned, sometimes it was something with the remaining crew, sometimes it was the welcome party. You never know around here either. Things went pretty good at home this time, so I'm thinking the Cap'n may not have had such a run of luck. Something else that got me thinking is the difficulties with getting the crew in sync. We're all traveling around in this big ship and we've all got our unique part to play, and both the Captain and the Second (Number 2 means something entirely different when you're raising kids) try their darnedest to keep every body alive and happy and on the ship.

Sometimes someone jettisons an escape pod and we have to stop everything and go on a search of the galaxy for the missing crew member, or someone's brains get invaded by a little earwig alien dude and we must extract, but the most difficult maneuver of all right now is negotiating the family dinner. Now, I'm not talking about dinner at the captain's table, that is happening most nights, its the offshore excursion with a foreign ambassador. If the ship is the locale for the feast, we're pretty good, all officers are in attendance, but not everybody can go offshore at all times. Ya follow?

The Captain must have a hologram conference with Starfleet at the appointed time of the event, or Spock must take an unscheduled trip to Vulcan, or Scotty has to train new recruits. Uhura has an urgent message from the outer limits, Chekov can't get the thrusters to do their thang, Sulu lost the keys, Bones encounters an outbreak on board the ship, even the Ensign assigned to die this episode can't make it. How does one get every body coordinated? Its impossible to explain, even more impossible to pull off, so why sweat it. The landing party will be those that can leave the ship and that's that. Beam us down to the surface, Scotty.

Go Therefore and Make Disciples

2010-09-12T12:10:00.000-07:00

Ok, so apparently my husband and I took this command of Jesus quite literally. It wasn't enough for us to be fruitful and multiply, we recognize that it was not enough to just "make babies." We gotta train them up, ya know. As a woman, when I married my husband, my focus changed from my future to our future. When we became parents, it was no longer just the two of us. Everything we did was tempered by the presence of a third wheel, if you will. What makes me think that church will be any different. So many of us think that church is all about us, when it really isn't. We don't come to church to be filled up, but to spill out on to others. Sunday isn't about being fed, but about joining hands with others and bringing in the nets. The modern church has a program for everybody, and don't get me wrong, it really is about discipleship, but for so long we've been fed this line about entitlement and self-esteem and prosperity. Those things lead us to believe that Jesus work on the cross was all about getting us right with him. But its so much more than that. Its about the change of focus from me to you. I'm no longer inward looking, but upward and then outward.

Demolition Crew

2010-09-09T05:23:00.000-07:00

There's been a lot crossing our way lately in the form of judgments and proclamations. What I mean is that we've been dealing with a lot of people's opinions and what they say about others. Now I think I can say this because I happen to be one, but women talk a lot. My husband and I take drives so that we can get out of the house and talk and I have to admit that I do most of the talking. Sometimes, I realize that I've changed subjects about three times in the course of one monologue. That's okay, its a scientifically proven fact that women talk more than men. However, I have to guard what I say and even be careful of the perception I have of other people's lives and actions. Proverbs 14:1 says, "The wise woman builds her house, but with her own hands the foolish one tears hers down." Wow, that's heavy and pretty simple. Don't we do that all the time with the words we speak?Proverbs 18:21 says, "Death and life are in the power of the tongue, and they who indulge in it shall eat the fruit of it."

What may seem frivolous to me, is a necessity to another. You cannot walk into my house and look at my things and judge my spending habits based on that. One reason is that you don't know how well I may or may not be budgeting my money. I shop a lot at the Goodwill and consignment shops. You don't have to know that, but don't judge me. (see yesterday's post for more on this topic.) I may look at you and see you slacking in your particular area of ministry. You may be showing up late or not at all or you may have lame excuses for not praying or whatever. What I may not know is that you and your husband are fighting for your marriage in a very real way, or you just found out you owe the IRS $10,000 in back taxes, or your teenager is pregnant, or (insert your particular struggle here).

Paul said that we walk out our salvation daily and he was so right. Everyday I wake up and choose to follow after Christ, its not automatic. Its so easy to judge someone from what you can see and some people are actually audacious enough to spew it out of their mouths. That's proclaiming a curse in case you didn't know. Even thinking poorly about another is bad. As a man thinks in his heart, so is he... Walking out our daily struggle with Jesus is a messy business and its a very personal thing. We need to hold one another accountable, but even that needs to be rooted in love for the other person. Carry your own cross, and don't criticize your brother when his slips a little. Don't tear down the house, only a fool does that.

You Have No Idea

2010-09-08T05:26:00.000-07:00

Wow, its been a long time since I last posted...Sorry about that but things kinda started spinning out of control for me. I just now feel like I've found the groove of things. The kids went back to school, at two different schools mind you, and I got a new job, and did I mention we're pastoring a new church plant, and I still occasionally remind myself that I am postpartum (that explains alot sometimes). Oh and for the past three months we've been hosting four more people in my home. The summer is gone and my four girls are sharing one room. Three of the four more people are under five years old. Now this is not a laundry list of complaints or anything, I just wanted to explain my circumstances in case you started judging me and all for not writing. So explanation given let's move on.

I realize that my life is not an ordinary one and I maintain a love/hate relationship with it. There are times I completely embrace all the weirdness we call "us" and then on the opposite pole I stand shaking my fist at the heavens and imploring at the top of my lungs, "Why ME?" Things can be going so well and then the bottom drops out at the least expected times, although I must say I'm beginning to notice the warning signs of the giving way. Then the crowning glory is when someone in their stupidity or ignorance or both tries to tell me how to do this thing better or easier or what have you. I am not beyond receiving good advice, but a qualifying factor for giving good advice is that the advice giver has "been there, done that." I really don't find that many people in my immediate surroundings who have walked my road. Pastor's wife, check, mother of six, negative. Working mom, check, wife of an insane maniac of a man, no way. No man is an island, but some women need one to escape to from the crazy treadmill of life. At times I even resent the routine that I'm forced to follow. Get up at 6 am, unload dishwasher, kiss husband, change dirty diaper, take shower and be certain that everyone else will be walking out the door looking good except for me this morning (because I don't have any time left to brush my hair), drive away from the house at precisely 7:05 am. I swear to you I feel like there is an ethereal glow around my truck every morning that we leave and everybody's wearing shoes and has their hair brushed. Its like a little miracle everyday when a family of 8 gets somewhere on time and looking half way decent. Can you give me a little slack when I don't make it to both services on Sunday, or my kids don't remember to be polite all the time, or my husband's collar isn't perfectly pressed?

^1-5 "Don't pick on people, jump on their failures, criticize their faults— unless, of course, you want the same treatment. That critical spirit has a way of boomeranging. It's easy to see a smudge on your neighbor's face and be oblivious to the ugly sneer on your own. Do you have the nerve to say, 'Let me wash your face for you,' when your own face is distorted by contempt? It's this whole traveling road-show mentality all over again, playing a holier-than-thou part instead of just living your part. Wipe that ugly sneer off your own face, and you might be fit to offer a washcloth to your neighbor. (Matthew 7:2, The Message)

When the wind blows...

2010-07-06T18:02:00.000-07:00

Wind is kinda funny. It can be calming and it can be frightening. A nice breeze can be refreshing, while at the same time a brisk gale can chill you to your core. I have a love/hate relationship with wind really. Growing up we lived in a house that the first time a wind blew I was certain the house was haunted. I actually convinced my little sister for like a minute. Alone in a house and suddenly you hear, "Woooooooo!" Oh yeah, it had to be ghosts. Then in middle school I had to walk to school and it was always windy. In the winter it made my ears hurt. No I didn't wear a hat because that would have flattened my hair, hello! When we were missionaries in the Dominican Republic, that breeze that came through my window every night when the electric fan wasn't working, was such a blessing. But overall I don't like wind. Wind blows stuff into my contacts, and it makes trees fall in my yard, and tornadoes and hurricanes, and on and on. Right now, it feels like the wind is never gonna stop. Just when I think I've got everything in hand, woosh! here it comes again turning the umbrella inside out. I'm tired of sailing against it, battening down the hatches and such. I'm just plain tuckered out and yet I know a man who talked to the storm. Peace, Be Still!

Daddy Time

2010-07-03T02:05:00.001-07:00

Prayer room time again, hence the early morning post. I've always hated the early morning, the bed seems so much more comfortable at that time. Even when I was a little girl and I could hear my grandpa rummaging around in the kitchen and alone time with Papa beckoned me, I often did not give in to its call. Yet, here on occasion, I find myself dragging my sleepy head from bed to do my part on the wall. Its so neat because there's something sublime about spending time with God when all sane people are still sleeping. Very special and beyond words really. There's not even need for words, its just sitting here with Him and knowing He's right here.

When I was just a girl all I was escaping with my sleep was helping out with the dishes and watching my little brother. Now I open my eyes and IT looms over my bed, hovering with insistent demands. "Don't forget to do that thing you didn't do yesterday." "Make sure you get this done today." Now I've never been one of those super mommies who wake up before the whole family and have a complete breakfast on the table before any little feet come pattering down the stairs. But I do enjoy the mornings when I can slip out to the living room and get a cup of coffee in with my devotions before a little tiny starts screaming, "I NEED breakfast!"

Earlier this week we went to a conference at Morningstar and boy was I looking forward to it. Not because I felt like God was going to be more present to me in another place, but mainly because I would be alone with Josh, God and a bunch of people who love God insanely. However, last minute we decided it would be unwise to leave the little guys at home and so they got to come along. Good idea right? I convinced daddy to get us a room where I could be a part of the conference goings-on while the kids could still be safe and quiet in the room. Win-win for everybody. Six kids and 15 years into this thing I really start feeling like I know what I'm doing every once in a while. Emari and Zion were pretty good but any time you bring a toddler and an infant to a church event is a recipe in certain disaster because no matter how "Free" the congregation is, they want to be able to hear what is going on and not over the shrieks of a baby.

So, I did a lot of walking, and feeling sorry for myself and smacking myself back into the reality that I shouldn't feel sorry for myself, because that's selfish. I mean didn't God know that I wanted to hear His voice at this conference? Why didn't He make my kids fall into a deep sleep or quiet their spirits enough so I could participate? Then it happened. I remembered that this wasn't just about me, that Josh was there too. Duh, I mean, my part of this thing meant that he got to spend uninterrupted time with God. Gee, now I felt so much better. Ok, so maybe that martyrdom helped for a moment. Then a lady caught me chasing Emari around the lobby and pushing Zion in the stroller in frustration and felt compelled by the Lord to share something. She said that she remembered being a busy mom and chasing kids around and God gave her a promise that she felt the Lord wanted to pass on to me. She said that He told her that even when I felt like I was missing something by having to care for my babies, God wasn't moving on without me. At those moments I had to get up and leave He was going to pick right back up where He left off, that I wasn't going to miss a thing. Wow, God.

I think that all mommies need to grab hold of that. It can be so frustrating to feel like there is no reason to get out of bed except to chase some kids around, try your level best to teach them stuff, and then crash into bed exhausted at the end of the day only to turn around and do it one day after another. God has a special love for the mommy. He sees you and all that you do and isn't critical of the time you don't get to spend with Him. Don't beat yourself up about it and don't look at your precious charges with contempt because you feel like they are keeping you from Him. This is only a season, and He is always there, even when you don't FEEL it.

Because You Might Need a Laugh...

2010-06-23T06:30:00.000-07:00

Today I was reading another blog and came upon this link: Laws Concerning Food and Drink Its a new perspective on the levitical law within our own modern homes...

Boys Will Be Boys

2010-06-19T08:19:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow is Father's Day and Sunday, so I'm getting the jump on things today while I still have a second or two to myself. I'm down in the prayer room right now with Mr. Man and trying really hard to ignore the rumblings upstairs in my bedroom. I don't even want to think about what that big thud was...

Yesterday we went to pick up my number 1 boy at the airport after his three week adventure in Germany. His sisters didn't even complain too much when I asked them to help me clean up his room and even got all dressed up to pick him up. I didn't reallize how much they had really missed him until then. And then I was all mush again. Every time I saw one of his updates on Facebook or read a tweet or talked to him on the phone or walked into his bedroom, it was there hovering. The inevitable. He's growing up and he's gonna leave me. Don't think I'm morbid, just hear me out.
I got pregnant with Tony in High School and he changed my life completely. Everything was altered, but I paid the price and I've reaped the reward of an incredible gift, to raise this boy up. He has never stopped being a blessing to my life. I made some tough decisions in order to keep life right for us, he was my friend from the beginning, not just my kid. I kept his best interest in mind all the time. I thought there was no way that any guy would ever love me enough to actually love this little brown baby too. But I was wrong, so wrong. Just when I thought it would never happen, could never happen, God sent us a daddy, and not just an ordinary daddy, the world's best. Tailor made for mommy and little man.Joshua walked into our lives and rescued us from the statistics. And it just exploded from there. Four sisters and one little brother later we are one great big happy family. God really knew what he was doing sending this man to raise up my boy. I love looking back and seeing God's hand in our lives. Watching as He reached down from heaven and took one broken dream and fashioned an entirely new thing that He could use for His Glory. Its been one extraordinary ride and I'm so blessed to have been given the opportunity to help shape this one life that God placed into my hands. I don't think I'll ever be ready to let him fly, but I know that he's been raised to face any challenge the world may hand him and with God's help and his daddy's advice he will overcome. Thank you Joshua for being such a great father and mentor to our boy, I love you.

Here I Go Again...

2010-06-16T13:27:00.000-07:00

I am directing you to another blog once more because sometimes you just need to hear it from somebody else.
Who Prays for the Pastor's Wife?

Tarrying

2010-06-05T02:44:00.000-07:00

Guys, I always knew as I was growing up that one day, despite the fact that I was raised up in a society that puts so much stock into college and career and the like , that I would find myself completely fulfilled in sitting in my basement at 4 in the morning knitting and crying out to God on behalf of my generation. Ok so I'm being facetious, but I'm not lying or stretching the truth at all about finding completeness in the presence of God I find in my own home. He's been invited here to dwell with me and the cool thing is that He responded. If you haven't been to visit our little underground prayer house and you can ever find the time to do so, please do. Its cool beyond words. I thought God only hung out in the church building cuz that was the Lord's house and all but He actually makes house calls and even hangs out with me as I go about my business running here and there. When I was a very young girl I started getting a glimpse at God being outside the church walls and when I was a teenager I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that He walked with me to school and back every day. But it wasn't until very recently that I discovered that He likes hanging out in basements too. This shouldn't be much of a surprise since He sent the Holy Spirit to the Upper Room which I kind of suspect to be an attic of sorts. There really isn't anything quite like dragging yourself from the comfort of your warm cozy bed to seek the Lord in the still of the morning. He's always waiting for me whenever it is that I show up to look for me but its in the times that feel like a real stretch for me that it is even sweeter. Just sitting in His presence and allowing Him to speak to me and encourage me is something I cherish. The distractions are all gone and its just the two of us. Its tangible and its real and I wouldn't have it any other way.

I'm Lazy, But What's New?

2010-06-02T09:12:00.000-07:00

So, I have been having a lot of amazing and blogworthy thoughts lately, I just haven't been able to find the time to sit down and write them. However, I have been able to find the time to read other people's blogs. This just so happens to be what I have been thinking about a lot and what I know other girls have been asking me about too. Follow this link...

http://concordiansisters.blogspot.com/2010/06/identity.html

I Couldn't Sleep At All Last Night

2010-05-27T03:43:00.000-07:00

Gee, maybe it was the two cups of coffee I drank after six o'clock. Maybe it was the fact that I ran the Core Meeting last night and things like that always make me jumpy. Maybe it was the fact that we've had a crazy schedule all week and its hard to relax. Maybe its that I had a coughing child in my room all night. Overactive-mommy-of-six-kids bladder? Too many decisions to make? Tony leaving today to take his first ever international flight alone? Check on the last two...

Should I stay and work the same job for the same pay even though I feel like God is telling me to step out in faith? Should I send my girls back to the same school or to a more convenient location on this side of town? Public, private, or homeschool? Did I make the right decision in sending Rebecca back to publc school this fall? Is Tony gonna make it in college? Can I hack it staying at home with Emari and Zion or will I flee when caged in my home with two little guys like I always do? Is Tony going to make all his connecting flights? Will he arrive safely in Germany or be hijacked or kidnapped or lost to me forever?

Sheesh, that's a lot of stupid running through someone's mind at any time but especially at 3 in the morning, ya know. Boy am I glad that I can try it again tonight and do it right this time. Since my opportunity for rest has passed me by this time around, I was up early drinking coffee again, this time to keep me awake for sure, and reading my Bible. We follow a reading plan and it never ceases to amaze me how I can have a really crappy night and then wake up to God's Words just for me. This is from today...

Psalms 127:1-5

If God doesn't build the house, the builders only build shacks.
If God doesn't guard the city,
the night watchman might as well nap.
It's useless to rise early and go to bed late,
and work your worried fingers to the bone.
Don't you know he enjoys
giving rest to those he loves?

Don't you see that children are God's best gift?
the fruit of the womb his generous legacy?
Like a warrior's fistful of arrows
are the children of a vigorous youth.
Oh, how blessed are you parents,
with your quivers full of children!
Your enemies don't stand a chance against you;
you'll sweep them right off your doorstep.

Besides the allusions to sleep and rest, which are obviously, not for me, I'm really thinking the whole thing about kids being amazing is great and so on point. They are a real pain in the rear, and cause mommies to stay up late and get up early worrying about them, but in the end God is rewarding me. He is building my house, if I let him, not my night time rantings. Sleepless in Fayetteville signing off...

Grace

2010-05-22T07:04:00.000-07:00

Josh and I are learning very quickly that being pastors of a church no matter the size can be very taxing. We love it so don't take us wrong but even with our vast experience as under shepherds for 15 years, missionary work, youth pastoring techniques and just plain raising our own kids into teenage-hood, doesn't quite equip us adequately. To put it plainly, we get tired fast. I now understand why Jesus withdrew (escaped) to a solitary place and prayed. Sometimes the weight of it all becomes overwhelming. We planned a quick getaway to Moravian Falls which just so happens to have a mountain top prayer house that is truly a solitary place. But I was still a little worried that the escape wouldn't be enough. I was praying and asking God why it is so hard and His response as always made it so simple, "My yoke is easy, my burden is light." He didn't say the yoke you take upon yourself, or the burden you allow others to put on you, He said His yoke. When I was allowed the chance to look up the passage He was referring to it made everything so clear.

Matthew 11:28-30
"Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you'll recover your life. I'll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won't lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you'll learn to live freely and lightly."

Boy is that what we all need, to learn how Jesus handles the pressure. Spend time with Him, learn how he does it. Its His invitation to us to come away with Him and allow Him to teach us how to discern the necessary things from the trivial. He knows exactly what we need. I love the sound of learning the unforced rhythms of grace. It almost sounds like a dance. That's how I would like Him to see me, as a graceful dancer carrying out even the most difficult of movements with unjerking accuracy and fluidity. Don't you?

Trippin'

2010-05-19T06:01:00.000-07:00

The other day I was signing on to check my email when a news story flashed across my screen. This one particularly caught my attention because it had something to do with Ms. America and the fact that she apparently tripped on her dress while crossing the stage. I quickly clicked on the button to start up the video. I had to see this. Then, if He wasn't already hovering over me, the Holy Spirit burst into the room and said, "Just, WHAT are you doing?"

NO biggie right? I just wanted to watch the pretty lady who was officially being recognized as being the prettiest lady in our whole country fall in front of everybody in the whole world on television and make a complete fool of herself. What's the big deal? Apparently, the Lord was taking a stand in my life on this particular issue. Now let me say that if you watched the little video, this is not a blog to make you feel bad. I'm just saying that for me and what I've been going through lately this was a big no-no.

In case you weren't aware of this yet, I'm a pastor's wife and, well, people treat us pretty weird. I don't consider myself anything special, but the church often puts the pastor and his family on this pedestal. We don't climb up there ourselves, there is no ladder to the platform. You must place an item there. What we also like to do is say, "Look at them, they're up there and they're not doing things right!" We are just normal people like you, the only thing that is different for us is that we bear the weight of the congregation we lead. As representatives of something bigger than us, we often times become a target for those who want to bring down that larger entity through our frailties and mistakes or just make themselves feel better by putting us down

Just for the record, if you see me trip, don't post the video on youtube. Be Christ-like enough to come over and help a sister get up and move on.

Psalms 13

How long, O LORD ? Will you forget me forever?
How long will you hide your face from me?
How long must I wrestle with my thoughts
and every day have sorrow in my heart?
How long will my enemy triumph over me?
Look on me and answer, O LORD my God.
Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep in death;
my enemy will say, "I have overcome him,"
and my foes will rejoice when I fall.
But I trust in your unfailing love;
my heart rejoices in your salvation.
I will sing to the LORD,
for he has been good to me.

Seven-October 3, 2008

2010-05-18T12:40:00.000-07:00

Driving away from my house yesterday God met me on the backroads to Pembroke. I was feeling lousy about leaving my girls at home again and realizing once I stepped away from the bustle of my house how very busy and demanding I can be. The thought crossed my mind that I seem to always be instructing someone or bossing somebody around. Hi, baby can you do this for me, or good morning sweet pea, go get ready for school. I hate that, I so want to just stop and enjoy my children. Taylor my little elf baby is turning seven tomorrow and I can't believe how the time flies. So much of God was wrapped up in her arrival that I can't even begin to explain in words what her life has meant to me so far. She is sweetness incarnate. Tony told me just last night how he doesn't want her to grow up and get mean, I explained that I don't think she ever will get mean but she has to grow up. Just a little side note.

So, I've been thinking how often I get wrapped up in the busyness of life and don't enjoy the moment. I do that alot. I get that way with God too and He says just stop a minute and let me hold you. Seven is meant for rest, for renewal. Just as Tay's seven reminds me of what my life was like even seven years ago and how much God has restored to us as a family the renewal He has given us. Today, take a moment and enjoy your coffee, smell its aroma, give someone you love a lingering embrace just to hang on a little longer and thank God for the experience of life and breath and rest.

Been A Long Time Hasn't It?-October 1, 2008

2010-05-18T12:39:00.000-07:00

Wow, so I realized that's its been a really long time since I posted a new blog. But the real reason behind my title this time is retrospect. Just today I reconnected with a friend from High School. She mentioned that it had been a long time since high school days and requested that we catch up. Now I don't know about you but its really hard for me to sum up the past 15 years, yes its been 15 years since I graduated, Class of '93 rocks! How do I squeeze all that has happened into a condensed paragraph that wouldn't bore the socks off my grandma, but yet still conveys the full meaning of my life's pursuits? Maybe I'm being a little dramatic about it, but hey its my life and my prerogative right?

Yesterday I was listening to the radio and Paul Alan's song, To Bring You Back, was playing. That song always gets me, I can hear the instrumental and it would still bring me to tears. There is a verse in there that says, "you've been trying to find your place in a world that wasn't made for you." It hit a nerve and I was pinging the rest of the afternoon. Today writing to my friend only compounded it. What have I been doing all these years? Was it worth it? How much have I done that was truly in service to my King and Master? Am I guilty of trying to find my way and carve a niche out for myself in a world I wasn't made to remain in? I guess I just mean to say that a whole lot of inward dealings began.

For those of you that know my husband and I well, you know that we have been really wrestling with God the past year. You never really win when you wrestle with Him you know, at least you don't walk away unchanged. I finally came to the conclusion that while my life has been my own, it has been at least a mild attempt to please Him while still remaining in this crazy world. My mistakes and frailties He understands and when I walk away and start to forget He pursues me. When I finally return He has no condemnation, only a welcoming embrace and a quiet word, "Been a long time hasn't it?"

Hearts on Fire-June 11, 2008

2010-05-18T12:38:00.000-07:00

On Mt. Sinai the Lord told Moses to tell the people to prepare themselves for the Lord's appearance. When He came down onto the mountain, He warned them not to touch the mountain or come near it or else they would die. Even with their preparations, He would come amongst them but they could not draw near. They witnessed His appearance in fire, smoke, thunder and the blaring of horns. He only spoke to Moses.

At pentecost in Acts, they were told to wait but God appeared without any warning and invaded each person there individually. Once more He showed up with wind, and fire. But this time it was not a mountain but a person. He filled them with His presence and they became His temples.

The Lord is saying that now He does not want us to sit back as spectators any longer taking the words of man as His words, but He desires to come upon those who wait for Him with no warning, changing their lives forever. He wants to envelope them and flow through them setting there hearts on fire with His words spoken to them specifically. No more is it to be what the pastor says about God, but what God has said and done in my life. The work of the Lord in my life is what sets me on fire to proclaim His goodness and mercy. That makes me a true witness, not a second hand source.

Resilience-May 28, 2008

2010-05-18T12:37:00.000-07:00

This Memorial Day Joshua and I headed up to Washington DC. An old friend of mine from high school was there on vacation, so I grabbed the opportunity. While not being the subject of this blog I really must mention that God is amazing in His gifts to us. I hadn't seen my friend since I was a sophomore in high school. Its been 16 years or more and out of the blue I get an email letting me know that she's coming. We went out to dinner and recalled old times. Nothing spectacular happened we just hung out and I loved it. God is so cool like that.

Anyway, so on that note we left the next morning and on a whim decided to check out the Justice House of Prayer before we left town. It just so happened that they do not meet there all the time and as we walked up to the door another girl came up and unlocked it. Josh asked her if she knew anything assuming that she was a tenant of another part of the building. She was actually on staff and had headed up to the apartment to get a bottle of water for a friend. Wow! We talked for a while and she showed us around and let us know that she had come from the Boston JHOP to help out with a 24/7 Bound for life vigil that had been going on since April. We let her know a little bit about what God was beginning to stir in our hearts and she shared a dream she had recently had. In her dream there was a ball of fire underneath America and the fire was sending shoots of flame out. As it did pillars began to drive up from the ground in various places all over the country. The ball of fire was named intimacy. We were more than amazed at this.

We left JHOP and decided to take a walk past the Supreme Court building and check out the vigil. There was one girl there with red tape on her mouth. All around her people were taking pictures, like right beside her and she didn't budge. Some people even took pictures with her. We just stood there mezmerized. What an awesome demonstration! One girl standing there against all that represents our national justice system. Life! Even recalling the picture I am brought to tears. She made me think of little David standing in defiance against Goliath.

If you have ever been to DC you can understand how enormous everything seems. Now you must believe that I am a strong patriot. I love being an American, I love my country. I get goose bumps when I hear the National Anthem and I grew up on an Air Force base where we had to stand for the Star Spangled Banner even at the movie theater. It still affects me, and when I even drive through DC I feel the same way. God Bless America! Standing there amidst all that represents our country I am reminded how small I really am in the grand scheme of things. All of history seems to rush past me in those moments.

After finally pulling ourselves away from the scene on the Supreme Court steps, we walked around the front of the capital building. I stood there once again carried away looking down the mall to the Washington monument, it was surreal. I had the overwhelming feeling of being on the deck of an enormous ship. The wind whipped around me and I looked out upon the vast sea beyond.

I remember reading recently in my devotional time that Jesus set his face to Jerusalem and was not distracted from His purpose. Just like the girl who stood alone in the face of American justice undaunted. Life goes on around us, but are we resilient in the pursuit of our purpose? Do we even know what our purpose is? Are we only passengers on this great ship or do we have a jog to do in bringing it to the destination it set out to?

Memorial Stones Old Myspace Blog Post (4-8-08)

2010-05-18T12:35:00.000-07:00

Today I woke up thinking about where I’ve been and where I’m going. Lately in my devotion time I’ve been reading about the people setting up a memorial and taking the time to remember what God had done for them. They also were to teach their children these things. The other day, my kids were all converging on me in my room. We were all sitting there on my bed and the idea came out of my oldest child’s mouth that dad’s cool, but mom just isn’t. No big revelation, I know that I’m not cool. I’ve known that my whole life, but something just stung with that coming from my offspring. What is wrong with this picture? You don’t know me, you don’t know what I been through! Immediately he expressed remorse over the words, but the idea was there hovering in the room. What would I do with this? Ponder it I suppose.

Now here I am today, relishing my vacation and time away from home, yet sitting right here on the verge of my oldest son’s birthday. I can’t help but return in my mind to my personal Jordan River and say look son, these are the stones of our memorial. Every year return here yourself and maybe see them in a different light, but don’t deny them. They have made you who you are, even when you don’t realize it. Over the years add another stone to the pile and look back at what has gone before you. Our first year together the Lord brought us out of our personal Egypt and created a new life for us in North Carolina. The next year he brought us a new family, the Goodman’s, one that would forever change our lives. Next a family of our own with Daddy, the man who would usher us into our destiny together. Then a new sister and new horizons. Over the years we have served as missionaries together, suffered through the loss of a grandma and numerous family members, the birth of more sisters, broken bones, crushed but renewed dreams, and so many things it is hard to mention through the written word. Of all the things I would stand to mention is the reality of your own adoption and the family that God has blessed us with. Never forget that the life you have now is based on choices of those who have gone before you. The sacrifices made for you and your sisters, though not expressed, are very real. God saw fit to reach down from heaven and lead us to the perfect man for our little broken family. You and I could not have made the same impact on our generation had it not been for dad. Your sisters would not be here and so many things would have been different. I love it that you think he’s cool, that you have a man to look up to and admire. Thank God for him! Set up your own memorial stones and revisit them as you grow older. Don’t ever forget where God has brought you out from and the promise that He is leading you to. Happy Birthday and I love you!

The Ooze

2010-05-18T06:59:00.000-07:00

I'm faced with a dilemma. I'm noticing a trend. Waves of trouble and distraction rush over me and at times I feel like I might not reach the surface for air this time. I know you've never felt this way. There is a wound and it needs to heal but you just can't or won't let it. You want to wallow in your bed and complain about the pain or silently suffer with the windows drawn. But God rushes into your room and throws the curtains wide open. The sunlight streams in and there He is at your bedside dressing the festering sore. It hurts more as He cleans out the infection and applies the medicine only He can prescribe. No its not going to go back to normal, things will never be as they once were. There will always be a scar. But it will heal.

Juggling

2010-05-17T10:47:00.000-07:00

Everybody around here knows I have six kids, some think I'm weird, some think I'm not and some have no opinion whatsoever. As for me, its just part of who I am, you know. I don't often think about it even when I'm calling upstairs to them, one by one and I realize how many names I have to say. Basically, its my life rolled up in a great big ball of diapers and mismatched socks and endless chores, and its wonderful and my worst nightmare, and its lovely and it sucks, and its everything I always wanted and nothing like what I signed up for. Ya know, if I don't do it, it don't get done.

I'm handling everything just fine, I'm a great juggler. I can steer away from being overwhelmed until you throw all the other things in there. That's when it gets complicated. Somebody needs counseling, homework needs to get graded, a mail out must go out, a paper needs to get written, and suddenly other people are throwing stuff into my juggling act and I get off kilter. Something has got to go and its not gonna be my babies or my man. Maybe its the laundry, or the phone call I had to return. All I know is that this show must go on and I am only one person. My primary job is to take care of my husband, my kids and my house.

Titus 2:1-6 Your job is to speak out on the things that make for solid
doctrine. Guide older men into lives of temperance, dignity, and wisdom, into
healthy faith, love, and endurance. Guide older women into lives of reverence so
they end up as neither gossips nor drunks, but models of goodness. By looking at
them, the younger women will know how to love their husbands and children, be
virtuous and pure, keep a good house, be good wives. We don't want anyone
looking down on God's Message because of their behavior. Also, guide the young
men to live disciplined lives.

Nuff said.

The Road

2010-05-13T10:30:00.000-07:00

I've been doing a whole lot of thinking on the subject of what I am doing with my life. Some of you might think this odd since you know me in the capacity of church planter, or mother of six, or Latin teacher. However, this girl's got dreams ya know. Sometimes I really worry that I'm not doing it right, whatever it is.

Thoughts like, "Did I waste my time and money on that stupid B.S. in Psychology?" run through my head all the time. Then I look at all my beautiful babies and I wonder why I couldn't have discovered this place of almost contentment before now. Homemaking seems so sublime. Being a wife is good, raising little people is totally awesome, trying to lead people through the wilderness in pursuit of our Promised land is super scary.

A couple of weeks ago during my trip back home, my sister and I went back to our old house at Travis AFB. It was so weird when we turned off the main road and discovered that the whole housing area was gone. Yep, all that was left were the trees and grass. They even removed the streets. Wow, the memories both good and bad that raced through my mind. I told my sister that that road is where God first spoke to me about what He wanted me to do with my life. I was walking down the road and praying and telling Him about how hard stuff was. He responded by telling me that the stuff I was going through He was going to turn around and use to help others. I interpreted that to mean that I was going to go to college, get a PhD and make lots of money solving other peoples problems. Funny how we do that with God's words. We try to make them work for us. A calling is different than a paid position. Yeah, its really nice to get paid for doing what you love, but not everybody has that luxury.

I sat there looking at where that old road used to be and it was so funny because the grass had grown up in the bare spot and just along the old path that used to be asphalt and sidewalk, yellow flowers had begun to grow. They curved along the same place that had been hard places. I thought I was walking along one road, God had a different view point and destination in mind. Looking at it the scenery has definitely changed from what I had expected. Its a lot prettier than it used to be and only eyes that had once seen it as a carved out road could distinguish its path. The calling has never changed and His Words still ring true. So no, I may never be Dr. Goodman, but my life can still be an encouragement for others. If I can make it through so can you. My regret is that I have fought so long to pursue one dream while never realizing that the road wasn't really as ugly and difficult as I was making it out to be. When I finally stop fighting and relax in His Presence, I can see the beauty in where I'm at right now.

Soooo Last Weekend

2010-05-12T09:27:00.000-07:00

I know this is late, but with my crazy busy life and the fact that I like to type my blog without snotting all over the keyboard, I saved this post just for you guys. Here goes...

Mother's Day was celebrated throughout the United States on Sunday, and being a mother of six kiddos, I was treated to breakfast in bed, the usual at our house. My Tony and Emari woke me up early with waffles and sausage by the former kissing me sweetly and the latter jumping on the bed saying "Happy Mover's Day" over and over. The other girls had all spent the night at Grandma's house so they were missed but it was nice nonetheless. As I sat there in bed enjoying my lovely breakfast I was swept back in time to my first real Mother's Day. You see I had two official days before this special one, but because this momma had done everything out of order, I was forced to wait my turn in time. Tony was already three when daddy grabbed him and had him scribble a little picture and added a translation to it that was my first Mother's Day card ever. I'll never forget it, it was epic.

My little heart didn't want to expect anything in fear of being disappointed and here they were overwhelming me with a scribble and a heart and I love you mommy. I don't even remember a gift, that doesn't matter, the boy still goes out every year and buys his mommy a card and stealthily takes it around for each sister and brother to make their mark on it. I melt as a response to their love poured out to me. They are my love embodied.

Who's Your Daddy?

2010-05-01T10:44:00.001-07:00

Alright, so I've been pretty much walking around like a zombie for the past week. You know the walking dead, alive but not, a picture of contradictions. Last Friday I got the long dreaded news that something really bad had happened to my dad and he was in the hospital. It was a stroke, to be precise. No one called me because somehow my dad always loses my number and my sister's. We only talk like maybe once a year, so go figure. Anyways, I got the message through Facebook. I was about to walk into my Latin class and I had a beach trip planned that I could not cancel, so I got the news and marched steadfastly on. You know every time crisis hits my life, I never just get to take time and let it soak in. I lead the kind of life that I HAVE to keep moving forward. Sometimes its really frustrating because I just want everything to stop so I can just catch my breath. Now I'm not talking about "my dog just got ran over and I'm really bummed" tragedy, I'm talking about "life as I knew it is over" stuff.

It doesn't happen that often so don't think I'm being dramatic. So I taught class and went to the beach and drove home just in time to head to the airport to catch my flight home. My little sister went with me and we hadn't visited our dad together since I was about 15. There we were, two little girls heading out to face the inevitable. Nobody could be there for us, it was just us two, like it used to be when our parents divorced and I had to make sure nothing bad happened to us. Man, the responsibility was tangible. It descended on me like a cloud.

We headed to the ICU and found him there. Things weren't as bad as we thought they would be. He was paralyzed on his right side so we had to stay to his left so he could see us and touch us. It was pretty hard not to cry, not because he looked so bad and even what had happened. It was bittersweet to stare at him for three days and see myself in him, to see his mark in my own children's faces. We left him on Wednesday and he is progressing as expected according to the doctors. Coming home was more difficult than the trip to see him. I guess I had pent up stuff that had to escape, I don't know.

I didn't cry until I came home. It still sneaks up on me and overwhelms me. Bitterness threatens to overtake my heart but I fight it with all the strength I can muster. The cloud is beginning to disperse and I keep getting this impression that this is another one of those times when God is revealing the nastiness that I hide. Feelings and disappointments that I push under the carpet or hide under the bed. Reveal and release, heal and move forward. God sees every tear, knows every heart ache, and with that knowledge I can be confident that Somebody cares. Now its up to me to catch my breath and push higher. Let's go.

Still Breathing

2010-04-19T06:52:00.001-07:00

I know its been awhile since I posted last. Wow, alot has been going on though. With the church plant and all my children, and the husband that God blessed me with, I am so, so busy. It feels as if I've never really been not busy since I married this crazy tornado-like man and adopted his lifestyle like every good wife should. So much has transpired in the many, many weeks since I was last given the opportunity to sit down at a keyboard and look inwardly for a moment. Many blogs have graced my thought patterns but were never given the chance to make it onto cyberspace.

Computers have been sick at my house, including the macs, and it seems somewhat like a plague. My 15th anniversary came and we celebrated by running off to the beach together and had an awesome time sans children. We were blessed by a new truck that our whole family can fit in at the same time, legally. My Tony turned 17, and got his very first car and I'm feeling so grateful to have born and almost raised such an awesome testimony of God's goodness. Spring Break came and went and we all had a completely wonderful time working outside together.

I feel so very blessed in a very unexplainable way right now. I ran inside to grab a blanket for my baby yesterday in all the hubbub to get to church in a timely manner and was completely taken off guard by a wave of teary-eyed happiness. You know that kind that catches you in the throat and takes a moment to recover from? You can't really put it into words, its the kind of breathless excitement and joy that you felt when you found out he loved you, when you held your baby in your arms for the first time, when you've been working so hard and not really seeing alot to show for it and then all of the sudden...sigh. A glimmer of hope on the horizon, the stillness of morning and the hope it affords for a new and different day. The break in the storm. The sigh of relief when you can finally drift off to sleep and rest. Yeah, that's it. Just breathe deep for a moment and bask in His goodness. Ahh.

Emari-Melina Trinity Goodman-2 Going on 43

2010-02-25T05:40:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was Marzipan's third birthday. All year long she has been maintaining that she was 42 years old and would hold up only 1 finger to prove it. Somehow she convinced you and you moved on with the conversation. Yes, they are conversations and sometimes you feel like she's just that old too.

In my mommy archives I always pull up the memories of the day of the prospective child's birth on the anniversary of it. My perspective is slightly different than everyone else's since obviously I had a starring role in the forthcoming project. Emari's birth was pretty interesting considering she was induced two weeks early and still weighed over 9 lbs. She then proceeded to get her head out, but being endowed with her daddy's wide shoulders decided to hang out in the birth canal for a little longer. One extremely scary obstetrical procedure later and she was out, both of us bearing the battle scars but an adventure we both shared.

On deciding her name Josh and I were both a little stumped because we really thought she was gonna be "the boy." When she presented herself in the ultrasound as another addition to our girl collection, I must admit, I cried the whole way home. All of the sudden, I was in the ranks of those women of old who just couldn't produce a male heir. Stupid, I know, and so very, very shallow, but man I was sad. Not an other girl...but we decided to stop the flow of our alphabetical naming of the Goodman offspring and shake things up a bit. We also had run out of family members who have passed on to name our children after, so this time we pulled from the living to immortalize.

She's named after her Papa Emory. It means "courageous leader." Melina means honey. God told us that if He had his way her middle name would be honey because she was going to be as sweet as honey, so we went Spanish on that one. Trinity was a throw back to a name we wanted to give to Taylor her older sister but the grandparents talked us out of it.

Turns out that in my pre-delivery praying I asked the Lord that if it was at all possible for Him to be present in the delivery room in all three of His forms, I would really appreciate the extra support. Rewind to the obstetrical procedure I mentioned earlier. That included mommy having her knees rammed all the way above her shoulders by daddy on one leg and a nurse on the other, then second helpful nurse pushes down on baby belly from above, all while mommy pushes as hard as she can and Dr. Wonderful works before mentioned stuck shoulders of baby Emari to an unstuck position. The Trinity was just what I needed for that delivery, I just couldn't do it on my own. Death loomed in our delivery room, but God brought us both through. Emari has been the exclamation point for our female assortment and I wouldn't trade her for any old boy at all.

Boys and Flowers

2010-02-15T06:27:00.000-08:00

If you would have asked me years ago what gender of child I wanted I would have told you...boys, boys, boys. I babysat for a family that had four boys and I absolutely loved it. Now four girls into this thing I wouldn't trade them for anything. Their unique approaches to femininity teach me new things almost daily. However, I still love me some manchild and am sooooo glad that God finally gave me another to finish off my set. See, I know a lot about being a girl but boydom was a mysterious realm. I married a very masculine and yet sensitive man and I revel in the contradictions that those two characteristics display in our society. My man is a hopeless romantic and its amazing.

The cool thing is that somehow he's passed it on to our oldest. Yes ladies, I lost my next best valentine yesterday. There have been other women for him in the past and this is not where I place his hand into another's and quietly walk away. But, it is a milestone for us. He is beginning to look at the wooing of a woman's heart through the eyes of a man, not a boy. Part of me exults in the reality that he's been raised up to honor and adore the feminine heart, but the other part wants to seek out a quiet place and cry my eyes out, "Oh God, protect his fragile heart, don't let it be crushed to pieces by an uncaring girl." God answers me, "I think I've got this one covered, mama."

Stand.

2010-02-13T06:49:00.000-08:00

So I've been doing some thinking lately. After finding some really cool blogs that I am now following, my heart has once more been stirred. Some statements were made on these aforementioned blogs about how the church knows how to stand against something, but not how to stand for something. When you stand against something you are like a fortress. Steadfast and formidable but not taking any ground. Just standing still doesn't make you victorious, but it does make you a target. When you stand for something you move ahead, make progress. Action is involved, not just fighting off advances of the enemy but an invasion of the enemy on his turf.

Personally, I've always had a hard time finding what it is that I can stand for. I mean, I love God and seek to do His will always, but what do I stand for? What is my "Thing?" I can't seem to find it. I homeschool some of my kids, but I also have some in Christian school and have even *gasp* sent them to public school. I have loads of kids, but I don't have everything organized and under control. I'm married to a pastor, but I don't fit the stereotype. I think I've worked really hard not to fit into a category and now I'm out here uncategorized and feeling lost and alone. I've done well to figure out what I don't want to be, now we need to move on to who I do want to be and I'm getting too old for this reinvention of myself. It's too late to say Who am I? I am who God made me. Now if I could just figure out who that is...

I Was Made For This...

2010-02-01T07:46:00.000-08:00

So that's what I keep telling myself. Over and over. Especially when I believe it the least. I'm a California girl, you guys. God chose in His Infinite Wisdom to see fit to place me in a warm climate from conception through the age of 18. At which time He then cruelly transplanted me to the South. Now, God doesn't need any defense for His actions but He did move me to Fayetteville, NC which isn't quite the Deep South. Here we have more of a strange mix of military retirees from all over the globe mixed with the descendants of the original settlers and Confederate devotees, so its a little different.

However, I was made for warmth and breezes and dry heat. I just know I was. Then you throw in the freakish blizzard like weather we have just often enough each year to shut us down for a few days. I detest it. But just recently I was compelled through some inner stirrings of the Holy Spirit to seek out my heritage and guess what? My family actually comes from right here in the great state of North Carolina! So if you really think about it California was kind of like our captivity and now I am the generation of those returned to our Promised Land. God is so cool like that, but I really wish I could get the anointing of those from my lineage who thrived here. I guess my kids will be closer to understanding that since they only know it here. Maybe they can teach me to be more adaptable.

Snowstorm Pushes Fayetteville Churches Underground

2010-01-31T12:01:00.000-08:00

Pretty silly I know, maybe I'm just young and stupid, but I really desire more of a challenge than a little ice to keep me from pursuing. Yeah, we can worship God at home and all and I'm not being critical of others. I just want to ask this, "What will I do when the stuff really hits the fan?" The disciples of Jesus were all for it until the Garden and some armed soldiers and their leader is under arrest and sentenced to death. They scattered, ran off, denied. Days later you find them together again and Jesus walks in the room. I'm really not comparing staying home from church during a snowstorm to this, it just makes me think that maybe I'm a little too comfortable. I want to be ready for the unexpected even when it comes in the form of bad weather. We made the decision to go ahead and have church this Sunday and it kept us awake last night. It was a tough decision and not everybody showed up, but a lot did. We had our first communion together and the first potluck of the new year, and we worshipped and praised and had a great time! Here's to you, Pursuit, you guys rock!

He's Coming Back!

2010-01-22T06:02:00.000-08:00

As we speak, my house is about as clean as it can get at any particular time during these years of childbearing and rearing. Oh the joys of picking up the same room over and over after tiny hands have pulled out the toys one more time or spilled popcorn all over the couch. Don't even mention the pile of shoes that are always left in mismatched pairs by the front door, or back door, or side door. The point is that the cleaning of the castle goes on standby when dad goes out of town for any extended period of time. He doesn't realize this, but we let just about everything go, because its really all for him anyway. Instead of homemade chili and cornbread, we may eat fish sticks and tater tots for dinner. Laundry is done but left in a pile as we use it. Dishes may be handled the same way.

Oh, we have a little relaxation from the chores, but its almost not worth it for the amount of cleaning we do to catch up and bring the house back to "dad" status. The excitement of his return almost blurs the weariness of preparing for it. The thing is it wouldn't be so hard if we had just kept things up while he was gone. The excitement would still be there, and we'd still be running around making sure things were perfect, but we wouldn't be so worried about things not getting done.

This morning I was thinking about this in reference to Jesus' return for His Bride. Wow, the excitement! But hey, we don't even know when the wedding day is. How are we supposed to be ready? Hmmmm. Maybe we should always be ready. No leaving things for another day, or letting things pile up. Get your chores done as they come and you won't be caught wearing you pajamas when your bridegroom shows up.

Sunday Without the Man

2010-01-18T06:56:00.000-08:00

By "the man," I don't mean that intangible presence that we all refer to when we're feeling suppressed, I literally mean The Man, My man, more specifically. Yesterday, we all held church without him at the helm. Our very first month as a church, our very first service without the Pastor. I was pretty scared, yet intrigued at the same time. Being the pessimist I am, all I could think about were those girly services I had attended in the past. You know the ones, where all the women fill in the guy exclusive jobs, like ushering and such. Not to sound like a chauvinist or anything, but they always made me think of when my kids would cook me breakfast. Sweet thought, but lets get back to the way things are supposed to be. I hate it that I feel that way.

Now I think that there are jobs that us girls can do just as good as men or even better, but that doesn't mean we should. Traditional roles are what I'm all about, not because a man says a woman can't do the job, but because God made me for something specific. Being a mommy is specific, I can do things for my babies that daddy just can't and vice versa. Ministry is the same for me. However, there are times and situations that cause you to have to rise up and take a place that you aren't naturally inclined to. There are times in history when women had to step into masculine roles while the men were away, and they did it well. Yesterday was one of those days. Jess, a new hero of mine, was given last minute notice that her husband would not be leading worship the next morning. Did she shrink back, oh no! She may not have jumped at the chance, but she rose up and took her husband's place. Boy are we glad she did. Worship was amazing, the Word came forth powerfully, and overall things came off without a hitch. I'm pretty sure nobody went away saying, "I sure hope that pastor gets back soon."

I guess the point of all this is that each day I'm learning more and more about what it is that God has made me for. No, I'm not always good at it, no I don't always want to, and man I sure wish He would back off in certain areas. But all in all, I'm so honored to be living right here, right now, doing this thing, with all of you!

R. E. M.

2010-01-15T05:21:00.000-08:00

Not the band, the sleep... I haven't been quite getting there lately I think, or at least I enter into a foggy thought and its too difficult to formulate so I just give up. Anyway, with my main man out of the picture right now, the weight of the Goodman world rests squarely on my narrow shoulders. If you know my husband, he's got some pretty wide shoulders, I love those shoulders. They carry a lot of responsibility. Much of that transfers to me while he's gone. While some of it is shelved until he comes back the rest is on me. It keeps me uneasy like maybe I'm forgetting something really important. I made enormous lists before he left but it still leaves me wondering if he's gonna come home and say, "Hey, where's my dog? Did you forget to feed him?"

From the very beginning of our marriage, Josh has traveled. In the early years, I would stay at my mom's or his dad's and things were pretty peachy. Then I kind of outgrew the whole I'm-too-young-to-stay-at-home-and-take-care-of-myself excuse. Although I must add if I ever asked, the doors to both homes would be so wide open. Plus, now its kinda like, "Papa can me and my brood of kids take over and ransack your house for the week while daddy's gone?" I mean you can only push a grandparent's love so far. So I'm left to fend for myself at home with these kids of his while he's out galavanting the globe and spreading the good news and all.

Sleep, its so essential and I'm lacking it. Now I move as many of my kids into my room as possible when dad is away. Tony and Becca don't like to sleep in my room anymore. It may be due to the fact that you can't actually find a place to sleep what with various bodies strewn from the bed to the floor, but that's besides the point. I like to know if I hear a noise, that everybody is safe and sound with me. The dog and Jesus can take care of the rest, ya know. This week is the same old story. Tony and Becca in their rooms upstairs and because they are teenagers they stay up to weird hours and walk into your room unexpectedly at 2 in the morning freaking you out. Emari has a wonderful habit of waking up crying in the middle of the night, or talking in her sleep. Last night she said, "Ok dad." and I asked her why she said that and she said it was because he said, "Thank you." All that was well and fine and pretty cute but not at 3 am. Then mix in coughing fits and potty breaks and night feedings from the insatiable Zion. Sleep just isn't my friend right now.

Full Speed Ahead

2010-01-14T05:38:00.000-08:00

Okay, so our amazing first 24/10 prayer session officially ended Monday night. Wow, the testimonies, life changing moments, etc. I was just basking in God's presence flowing in and through me and my whole house. Joshua and I threw down the last few days pushing through to the end while still maintaining order in our home and managing to rent our house, prepare for his overseas excursion and whatever else our crazy life threw our way. I was so proud of us!

Then in the wee hours of Tuesday morning I got up with Josh and his daddy, two of my most favoritest men of God in the whole world and rode with them to RDU to send them on their way. Whew! I prayed the whole way home and was just on fire for what was to come. I love taking care of things while Josh is off kicking enemy tail. We made a long list of stuff that needs to be accomplished, plus the list of things I like to do while the man is gone, then there's Latin class, and CCC stuff and Pursuit stuff and did I mention I'm the mother of six kids, the youngest a strapping lad of 15 weeks? So needless to say I hit the ground running.

Everybody made it to school on time that first day, and while I was a little late, I made it to staff meeting, taught my class, and went home to get some rest. Enter CHAOS. We were happy little elves on our way home from school, but upon entering the door of our humble abode all hell broke loose. Suddenly, my kids were fighting, crying, emotionally melting away. And I was operating on about 4 hours of sleep. Yelling ensued and I realized I was doing most of it at that point. Then I got the phone call about the earthquake in Haiti and the battle lines were drawn. Deep intercession fueled by utter exhaustion just filled our house. THAT is enough! My husband is gone to a scary place across the world, I'm steering this ship we call The Pursuit with the small skiff, SS Goodman attached, and now our missionary hearts were crushed by tragedy. Something is definitely going on in the heavenlies! But I know my limits and after praying what I felt was all I could pray I moved forward. We ate dinner quickly, settled in to bed, gave the two youngest to the two oldest (since they are nocturnal creatures by nature of their being in their teen years) and me and the middles slept soundly ALL NIGHT!

Day two was just as fun as day one but I was able to handle it without all the yelling and freaking out. We made it through and now I'm excited to see what Day three has in store for us. Ahoy!

The Upper Room Experience in My Basement

2010-01-06T13:46:00.000-08:00

As I'm writing this the prayers of my warrior husband are rising up from under the floor. No I haven't kicked him out. And the first sentence isn't figurative but literal. I can actually hear him praying as if he was in the office with me. Coolness.

The Pursuit finally kicked off our first ever 24 hour prayer from the confines of our basement. I'm loving it and I'm really surprised. Why? Because I'm a very private sort of individual and since Saturday night around 6 pm numerous individuals have been traipsing in and out of the prayer room under my house. Did I mention its right under my bedroom? Did I mention it was 24 hours a day? Did I mention I could hear my husband like he was in the same room as me while he's crying out to God downstairs? Oh, rejoice, cuz this girl is loving it. Now there are some rules and regulations set down, such as 1)The house is off limits, and 2)Don't park in my flowerbed and the like, but I am loving the atmosphere of my home right now. God's presence dwells here, but right now this week, its almost tangible. I don't want to leave.

During my prayer time I was reminded of the story of Obed-Edom. The ark of the covenant was in his house for three months and the Bible says the Lord blessed him and his entire household. How completely amazing would that be? The physical representation of the presence of God sitting right there. The reason it was left at Obed's house was because the Lord had struck down Uzzah for touching it and that really scared King David. Apparently Obed and his household knew how to properly reverence God. In fact he was from the group of Levites who were appointed to carry the ark on their shoulders. I desire to be part of a household of servants that know how to carry the Lord's presence.

A Cold, Cold Welcome

2009-12-29T06:10:00.000-08:00

We returned from our little vacation at Myrtle Beach on Saturday. Awesome time spent with our kids and away from our otherwise chaotic lives. However blessed we were during the week, it was all tested the moment we started driving away. My well trained husband didn't start checking his messages until we were out of the parking garage, and the tsunami began. Legal matters, death, and a complete revamping of our already developed plans for Sunday service awaited. Wow, oh and then my mom wanted us to stop by for lunch on our way home. That was a bright oasis on our trek homeward.

When we arrived I walked inside and noticed that our home was unusually chilly. Upon checking the thermostat and then the vent blowing cold air and finally realizing that our water heater was no longer creating hot water, we came to the conclusion that somehow during our week away, our propane ran out. Don't jump our case now and label us irresponsible. This is our first winter in this house and we haven't had propane as a primary heat source since we lived in our little trailer in Rockfish. A couple thousand square feet and 4 children later things run out a little quicker okay?

Let me remind you that I said we arrived back home on Saturday of Christmas week so there was no way we were getting gas until Monday. Oh man. Welcome home Revolutionaries! Pull out the skills you learned back in Haiti as a missionary and there you go. Heating hot water on the stove and sponge baths work wonders to remind you of what the ministry is really all about. Hair and makeup aside, our appearance doesn't really matter when we can't sacrifice a little flesh on the altar every once in a while right? We looked no worse for the wear on Sunday morning. If you smelled something a little funky around any of the Goodmans, it was only the the remnants of the fire we've been through.

A Revolutionary Christmas

2009-12-24T11:54:00.001-08:00

Recently my nerdy tendencies had me researching a lot on the American Revolutionary war. I have read books on the various battles, the major characters and even the women behind the men in the war. A few years ago I read a book detailing the letters written between John and Abigail Adams. Who cares, right? Well, a few years ago Josh and I went with a group of youth pastors to Valley Forge for a small conference held by Joel Stockstill. Things started rumbling around in my spirit about being revolutionary. Little did I know that I would be starting a church just a few years later. Wow, so exciting. But, there's something that we rarely think of when imagining the extreme coolness of changing the world...sacrifice. We commend others for their sacrifice, but what about when we have to do it?
So that brings us to Christmas. All year our family has had it pretty rough, but God has been supplying for the bills, food, gas, transportation, healing, etc. Enter the biggest gift getting time of the typical American kids life. I mean, as a kid, no matter how much my mama tried to teach me that Jesus was the reason for the season, I maintained that it was actually all those pretty wrapped gifts under the tree, with my name on 'em. I have tried to raise my own kids in the same fashion, but kids will be kids. This year we knew going into it that things were gonna be tight and we bore up under the pressure.

I started complaining, I mean praying about it, and God started reminding me about that revolutionary stuff. A Valley Forge Christmas, with freezing and starving and all that, you know, and things started looking a whole lot better for us. Then it hit me that all this Christmas stuff really isn't about Jesus at all. Come on we try to mix Him in there and say that all the gift giving is about the gift God gave us in His Son. But is it really? There are a lot of God ordained holidays but I don't remember Christmas being one of them. Yet, every year I get all out of sorts running around spending money I don't have to somehow bring glory to God? Then it trickles down to how I'm ruining my kids childhood memories because I can't afford to buy them that thing they're dying for this year. Looking back, I can't remember many of my gifts, but I remember snippets of the warm fuzzies I felt over the family coming over and spending time together.

This year we were blessed with a week at the beach, all we had to do was pay for food and get here. That's what we did, but barely and the kids have been great troopers thinking they really weren't getting much else. I really love my kids and the resilience they have for the down times of our lives. Now comes the really cool part. Because we're staying at a timeshare, we got the usual opportunity to go and listen to the salesman try to sell us on our portion of the American dream right here beachfront. We, of course, explained how we really couldn't afford it and after two more tries he finally believed us and we walked away proudly with our free gifts which just so happened to be gift certificates for the mall! Yeah, so even though this isn't His holiday, God still came through for my kiddos once more at the very last minute. Thanks, Daddy!

The Great Escape

2009-12-21T10:26:00.000-08:00

Fayettevillle, North Carolina has an invisible forcefield surrounding it. At least for the Goodman family, that is. For Josh and I, every time we manage to escape from it, we decide to head back in for another go at it. This applies to the long term move and the day trip or week long vacation. When we do get away for some down time it seems like it takes eons to finally get out of the gravitational pull that keeps our life in orbit.

That's where we were yesterday. Service went great at church, me and the kids had most of the stuff packed up and ready to go. And then we realized we needed dog food, and the trash from the church was still in the back of the truck, and people needed to talk to "the Pastor" about various things. But I purposed in my heart to keep things light and not stress. It was going to happen. My favoritest in-laws ever blessed us with a week at the beach and we were going to make it there eventually, God bless it!

I'm here to tell you that we did. Hallelujah! Right now I'm sitting in an almost quiet apartment overlooking North Myrtle Beach absorbing the solitude of Tony's Mac and the free wifi. Littles are asleep or squirming on the floor, middles and originals are splashing in the pool with the Pastor. And guess what. This week we're not the pastor's family. We can go undercover as the almost well adjusted average American family just hanging out at the beach over Christmas break. Oh yes you can call us the "Happy Goodmans."

Midlife

2009-12-16T13:44:00.000-08:00

I turned the big 3-5 yesterday. No big deal, I really think things have turned out pretty good so far. Six kids, nice house, food on the table, not too shabby. The real icing on the cake however is realizing that even when life stinks and the kids are misbehaving, the bills are late, dinner's burnt, the house needs a new roof, my car breaks down, insert catastrophic life event here...God is always there. Wow, that's what separates us from those without hope. We have no excuse to wallow in whatever bad trip life is handing us. Trust me, I'm not just shooting off at the mouth. I've had my share of stinky life events, but I decided a long time ago that I wanted to be different. In looking at my life to this point things are not all the way I wanted it, when I wanted it, but this is it. I will enjoy my life. Things are shaping up pretty nicely from here.

Comments Requested

2009-12-14T12:35:00.000-08:00

Ok, so I know that this blog isn't all that, but I have heard quite a few people tell me how wonderful they think it is. Well, now I'm gonna ask for something back. If you're reading and like/don't like/agree/disagree/whatever, comment on it on my blog. Pretty please with cherries and whipped cream on top. It really helps to know how my crazy thoughts affect readers ya know. If you're just reading for fun that's cool but I'd really appreciate to know what you all think. Encouragement does alot!

No, Emari, There Really Isn't a Santa Claus.

2009-12-13T13:00:00.000-08:00

So don't jump the gun and start thinking I'm some sort of Grinch or something. I absolutely love Christmas. Growing up, though not always drowning in gifts, the holiday was celebrated extremely in our house. I carried a lot of my mom's traditions over into my own household and Josh and I even came up with some of our own which I hope are cool enough to make it into my kids' repertoire of Christmas cheer.

However, something that we decided our first year of marriage, which also was our first year with kids at Christmas, was that we were not going to tell our kids that Santa brought their presents. Funny thing, traditions. They're passed down you see, from generation to generation and when you decide to do things a little differently, people get a little out of joint. That first year Josh actually had to dress up as Santa at work, so we got off a little easy with Tony. We could actually say that Daddy was Santa. There was just something about giving all the credit to some guy that the kids didn't even know when we were the ones scrounging up the extra money and driving all over Fayetteville looking for the perfect gifts. Call us selfish, but we wanted our kids to know who was sacrificing for them.

You look ahead in time and see that if we did teach them that Santa brought their gifts, the Easter bunny hid eggs in the yard, the Tooth Fairy exchanged their tooth for cash, and Jesus died for their sins, how were they going to be able to separate the fact from the fiction? None of these were they actually able to see, and at a certain age they were expected to understand the difference between real and fantasy. I really didn't want my kids stumbling over this. It just wasn't worth it for the pictures on Santa's lap and such. Mom and dad fill up the stockings at Christmas, Dad and Papa hide the eggs at Easter, mom is the tooth fairy and Jesus is real. No I have not robbed my kids of their childhood by denying them the typical holiday traditions, I set them up to be able to stand and know what they really believe. Sorry, Virginia.

The Baby's Out, Now What?

2009-12-03T09:31:00.000-08:00

Ok sorry about that stupid title, but I didn't want to be falsely advertising this blog with my alternate title, "Postpartum Depression in Reference to Church Planting." I feel strongly that my ministry life and my personal life are paralleled in experience so I try to draw references from one to help me deal with something I may be going through in another.

So 9 weeks ago I delivered an amazing baby boy, beautiful to the last detail. I still catch myself looking at him in awe. Such a miracle and an expression of love is embodied in his tiny frame. Yet, he keeps me up at night and is almost solely responsible for my never looking quite how I want to at any given time. I feel ugly and fat and cry about dumb things alot.

Simultaneously, we planted a church. The physical congregating of a group of people we have been working with and ministering to for a long time now. Together we have come and given birth to something we have felt growing inside of our spirits for quite some time. Oh its beautiful and its something else...a lot of work. The excitement and amazement is still there every Sunday, but lingering on the fringes is the exhaustion and the slight let down that all ministers feel. I would definitely label it postpartum depression of the ministry kind. The cool thing is knowing that its okay to feel this way, its normal and it will pass. The baby will grow stronger and start needing mama less for its every need. In the meantime, I want to soak up every minute of the beauty of this once in a lifetime moment in The Pursuit's infancy.

Wilderness Hike

2009-11-11T05:10:00.000-08:00

When Moses led the people of Israel out of Egypt they had no clue what they were in for. All they knew was that bondage was a thing of the past and the Promised Land awaited, somewhere... The neat thing about it was that God caused the Egyptians to heap their wealth on His people as they left. Talk about a going away gift. Then He protected them from the heat during the day with a cloud and provided a supernatural fire flashlight at night. Parting the waters, manna from heaven, water from the rock, clothes that didn't wear out. They were living in tents but the picture I get in my mind is a far cry from the wagon train scenes I associate with pioneering. Such is the picture of our new church plant. Not by any stretch were we leaving the bondage of Egypt, but we have been called to another place, a place none of us has seen. God has blessed our little band of nomads with everything we need to start this new work. Walking in on Sunday morning no one would have known it was our first Sunday. Thanks to CCC and Freedom, we have most of the equipment we are going to need. The nursery and mini church was taken care of by some generous donors. Methodist University is providing the facilities for next to nothing. All of this is God's amazing provision and His favor and I am so thankful for it. God is truly awesome!

Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For...

2009-11-10T06:09:00.000-08:00

Are you the person God's looking for? So many times we chalk it up to someone else doing whatever it is that we see a need for. Somebody really should mow that grass, somebody really should have spell checked the bulletin, somebody should do something about that ___________. Why not you? Oh man, that would take action on my part, and I just don't have time to do anything. Its so much easier to complain about it. God gives us a special tool that we can use at any time of day, no matter what we are doing. You guessed it: prayer.

Ezekiel 22:30-31 "I looked for a man among them who would build up the wall and stand before me in the gap on behalf of the land so I would not have to destroy it, but I found none. So I will pour out my wrath on them and consume them with my fiery anger, bringing down on their own heads all they have done, declares the Sovereign LORD."

Wow, what a statement! How would you feel if you knew you were the one that could hold back God's wrath and due to ignorance, laziness, what have you, you failed to rise up? Talk about having blood on your hands. Have you ever held your breath when they pulled the winning ticket out of the hat thinking, "It could be me." Or how about a job interview. "I'm just the one for the job!" Such an optimistic attitude, yet when it comes to the things of God we don't go around with that same mind set. Maybe we should start looking at things a little differently. God, I'll do that even if I'm not the one you picked for the job, because there's a chance it could be me. Let me be the one whose prayers and supplications for my generation hold back your fiery anger. Let me be the one whose prayers change the atmosphere around me. Oh God, let it be me!

For Such a Time As This

2009-11-09T07:11:00.001-08:00

I couldn't make myself write this weekend. Part of it was busyness, the other was that I really wanted to wait for it all to sink in. You see, yesterday was the first service of our brand new church, The Pursuit. There was a crew of amazing people who worked tirelessly to pull it all off and make it look easy to those of us who were watching in the wings. Many of us couldn't sleep the night before. The excitement was just too great. Someone compared it to the excitement you feel of Christmas Eve. I had no trouble sleeping and that kind of bothered me. Was I detaching myself from the feelings associated with the plant? All my worries were dissipated the next morning when I woke up. My two oldest had gone to help dad and the team set everything up and I was at home with the four littlest. I was a weeping mass of emotions.

You know I have been searching for my purpose for ions it seems. Motherhood, a good job, being a good wife, they just haven't seemed to be the reason God made me. All noble pursuits but just not my purpose on earth. I finally found it and it astounded me yesterday morning as I was getting ready. This is the time! God made me for such a time as this! All my life has been culminating to this point. The best part is that I am really nothing. He saw fit to use a vessel that has messed up innumerable times and in very noticeable ways to be a help meet to a man who has just as many flaws and failures. He endured with us and groomed us despite our humanity. He induced a dissatisfaction with the ordinary that was what really put this church into motion. In addition to that He handpicked a group of amazing people to come alongside us and bear the burden as well. Even our own babies are a part of what's going on.

Sixteen years ago about this time of year, I walked in the doors of Cliffdale Christian Center with a six month old baby and a cloud of shame hovering around me. Today I am the pastor's wife of a newly birthed church plant and that baby is an amazing musician on our worship team with a tender heart for the Lord. I love my life and this adventure that God has called us to!

Hearts on Fire

2009-11-05T06:46:00.000-08:00

At Pentecost in Acts, they were told to wait but God appeared without any warning and invaded each person there individually. Once more He showed up with wind, and fire. But this time it was not a mountain but a person. He filled them with His presence and they became His temples.

Would You Recognize Him?

2009-11-04T06:58:00.000-08:00

A while back we were studying the various spiritual movements at our church. At the same time our small group was holding a 24/7 prayer meeting. During one of my turns in the sanctuary I was walking past the white board on which the dispensations and movements of God over the past few hundred years were neatly written out. I may disturb some Bible scholars here, but the thought ran through my mind of what's the point of studying such things if you overlook the driving factor of the waves of the Lord's presence: His great encompassing love.

Man has been called to subdue, but that was never to include God. We try to explain Him, write Him up in a descriptive paragraph, paint Him in detail. Buts its no use. He is greater than we could even imagine. Its when man gets too wrapped up in the formula, that God shows up in a new way as if to say, "Think you've got me figured out? Check this out!" And if we're not careful the change disturbs us. "That's not God," is almost always our first thought. There are very few that genuinely and unreservedly embrace these movements. Our tendency is to weigh it out, wait until its safe.

You really have to know the Father to recognize Him when He surprises you. Would I have recognized Jesus if I had seen Him walking around in my hometown? If I was at the Pentecost prayer meeting would I have known the manifestation of the Holy Spirit was of God? It really is about relationship. When you really know someone, you'd recognize them no matter what span of time had passed. No matter what they were wearing, you would know it was them. God calls us into a deeper walk with Him. He desires for His people to truly know Him. That is when He can reveal His heart to us, tell us His secrets, and trust us to do what He's called us to do.

The Longing

2009-11-03T08:35:00.000-08:00

I started reading a new book yesterday by James Goll and Lou Engle. Its called, The Elijah Revolution. This book has actually been in my house sitting on a table for a few months. I felt compelled to buy it but couldn't read it yet. You see, I have a weird way of choosing books. When I pick it up off the shelf it has to speak to me. With in a few sentences it must cause an emotional response inside my brain or I put it down and come back to it later. The Elijah Revolution spoke to me in the store, but by the time I got it home, it just wasn't there. So I put it down knowing that at the right time I would pick it up again.

Now is the time. Monday morning I was sure of it when I opened to the first section and it was titled, This is the Time... I took that as a sign. Anyway, its a great book so far and what I wanted to mention today was this: I know that many of those who read my blog have a similar mindset as I do. There's a stirring in our spirits and our hearts that cannot be explained. Its a deep longing for more. More Jesus, more God, more Holy Spirit. Closer relationship with the Father and in turn a greater desire to spend more time with Him. You just can't get enough. Lou and James put it this way,

"God has deposited a dream that has grabbed hold of their hearts and permanently ruined them for "Christianity as usual." Energized by the truth that Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever, they look to God to move in the midst of His people in this generation as He did in generations past. Their spirits burn with a vision of Jesus Chrsit in all His glory. No longer content simply to live by the rules of "do's and don'ts," they so yearn to be close to Him that they freely cast away anything and everything in their lives that keep them from His presence, and abandon themselves completely to Him. They have caught a glimpse of glory, their spiritual eyes forever seared by the brilliance of the transcendent majesty of Christ."

I don't think I need to say anymore. Respond to the longing and chase after the dream!

What are You Drinking?

2009-11-02T11:48:00.000-08:00

Yesterday my husband and I hit a milestone. We attended our last service at our home church. He has been there right alongside his dad for twenty or so years and I have been attending since 1993. Time sure flies. I looked around the congregation and felt a mixture of feelings. So many memories flew through my mind at once. I was married in that church, dedicated every one of my babies there, witnessed my mother-in-law's funeral, and attended three family weddings. Josh and I were sent out to Haiti and returned a year later to weep and heal at that altar. Good times and bad we have shared in that sanctuary.

Joshua shared for the communion service about James and John's mother's request that they each be seated with Jesus. Jesus' response was that they had to be willing to drink from the cup of suffering. Doesn't sound too appealing to me and that was exactly the point of the message. We readily accept the blessings of God, but when the hardship comes we wonder where God is in the midst. Sounds to me like He might be the one pouring the drinks.

Thinking back over my time at Cliffdale the message was so appropriate for me. I have tasted both cups. Something Josh pointed out and I can witness to is that the blessings sure taste sweeter after having tasted the suffering. God knows what you need and He knows where He wants to take you. Trust Him and know that He will not let you endure more than you can take. Stretch your spiritual muscles and drink deeply what He pours out for you.

Modern Convenience

2009-10-30T13:30:00.000-07:00

My microwave is on the fritz. A couple of weeks ago, I asked one of my girls to clean it and somehow she managed to break the door. Those of you that know my children personally may be able to figure out who the perpetrator of said crime is, but don't hold it against her okay? So my husband in an attempt to fix the door, blew a fuse, (stop laughing) which he replaced, but now it lights up but won't cook anything. It seems there's a little safety precaution worked into the design of my microwave that will not allow it to send out the waves when the door is not closed all the way. It looks closed and even lights up, spins the turntable and makes cooking like sounds. But alas, no heat. So now we are resigned to reheating our food on the stovetop. Gasp!

Being the weirdo I am, this whole fiasco got me thinking about how much we take common things for granted. You know my son actually asked me how we made it before microwaves. I remember we made it just fine and didn't even know what we were missing. I reminded him that we lived in Haiti for a whole year without a microwave, or a refrigerator, or washing machine, or hot water, or a flushing toilet, you get the picture. Its funny how we go along just fine until something is taken away from us, even something small like say, cable television. I was actually talking to my husband about getting rid of ours and then the construction crew next door accidentally cut it. Suddenly, all I wanted to do was sit around and watch CSI all day.

What is it with me? Its the little things that get under my skin and don't think about taking something away from me that I think I'm entitled to. I mean this is America, I deserve and expect air conditioning, internet, and a comfortable chair at church. Yet with this attitude I come to the Lord as well. "God, I deserve this prayer to be answered, I mean I do so much for you. But please don't ask for me to put myself out there for your use, its too uncomfortable for me."

Wanted: Dead or Alive

2009-10-29T05:42:00.000-07:00

My New Year's Resolution Blog, how am I doing?

Maybe its the new year, maybe its not, but I have felt a real renewal of purpose in my life. Last year was an amazing journey with God and my family. So much was learned about His nature and my former opinions of Him were all challenged. What I have really been thinking about lately are those things that I really really hate about me. I know that sounds so trite, but its true. People close to me say that I am really demanding, both on myself and others and I have to agree. I spent last year examining alot of my actions and coming up short in the acceptance department. What are my true motivations? What really makes me tick?
I could make an extensive list of all the things I want to change about me, but God has a completely different idea. How about if I let him do the changing in me? He knows better what needs to go and what needs to stay. This year is going to be a year of transformation, but I don't think its going to be how we imagine. God wants to work on every facet of those He loves. Inside, outside, thoughts, perceptions, everything. We may find out that those things we really hate about ourselves, those things we keep trying to change are really what make us-us. I'm not talking about sin here. I'm talking about our natural tendencies and inclinations, that need to have some tweaking from the Creator. Stupid example, I know but recently I watched the movie Wanted. In that movie, the main character had some parts of his personality that he just couldn't accept. He tried medication, distraction, everything. He just tried to fit in, but he found out that he had a particular DNA that made him special, and he learned how to take full advantage of those characteristics that had been a hindrance to him before. He didn't just accept who he was, he embraced it and learned to excel at what he was born to do. Stop there. You were born into God's kingdom with special characteristics. God made you who you are and only He can see your true potential. He doesn't desire for you to be less and He definitely does not want for you to be content in and of yourself. You are call by Him. Wanted...not dead, but alive in His purposes. find your voice, stretch your wings, allow God to train you and to call you from the place you are right now. Leave your old life behind and follow after him. If you are feeling discontent and hollow, jump into the flow of what God is doing in your life, submit to His will. His life is more than just living, its the adventure that you were made for.

Gone Fishin'

2009-10-28T05:33:00.000-07:00

So Jesus had been one on one with these guys for 3 and a half years, they saw him perform miracles. Not just praying for people and them going out in the Spirit, but real miraculous invasions of people's bodies and minds! Feeding the five thousand, blind eyes seeing, crippled legs walking, oppressed minds freed, dead raised to life. Wow what a life altering experience. Jesus had walked up to each one of these men and called them out of their ordinary planned out life, asking them to walk away from everything that was comfortable to them and follow him. They didn't even know him, they just knew there was something about him that made them want to go. They followed him through everything and began to believe that he was the one and only, they loved him. But when put to the test they all scattered, ran away. Peter even lied about ever even knowing him. Jesus died an excruciating death and was buried. They thought their hopes and dreams were dashed. He even reappeared to them and proved his miraculous resurrection. But when all was said and done Peter went back to what he knew, fishing.

I've heard many sermons on this action, but I don't judge Peter. I understand. God has never been more real and present in my life until recently. It seems that he has been speaking to me everyday, performing the miraculous in my life. It's amazing. But when the dust settles, I'm still here life still comes up at me. Where is the power that I see from God in my own hands? Where do I go from here Lord? You know Peter was sitting out there in his little fishing boat wondering the same thing, now what? Wonderful and awesome miracles Jesus but what now? The fish aren't even biting so I guess I'm useless at what I know how to do too. What can become of my life now that I am no longer satisfied with what I used to know but I don't know how to walk in what you have shown me? I just can't go back to the former because I am not the same I have been forever changed just by knowing you. You've messed up my life Jesus what can I be good for now?

But just at that moment, Jesus shows up and brings the fish with him. He tells the guys to put the net on the other side of the boat and the fish are practically jumping inside. Funny thing though, when Peter sees Jesus he doesn't care about the fish anymore he jumps out of the boat and runs to him. Jesus! Jesus! I don't want it to be like this I can't live like an ordinary person anymore, I have to live for you. Show me how show me what you have for me to do!

Its a Dirty Job, But Somebody's Got to Do It

2009-10-27T06:11:00.001-07:00

I came to a new conclusion recently while examining my life and inner motivations. Here it is, I am getting older. Epiphany right? No, but really, I think somehow in the middle of the night, I slipped from one category of women to another. Now I'm in the older women category at least in some things. Don't worry about me, I'm okay with it. Depression is not about to set in.

Titus 2 says, "Guide older women into lives of reverence so they end up as neither gossips nor drunks, but models of goodness. By looking at them, the younger women will know how to love their husbands and children, be virtuous and pure, keep a good house, be good wives. We don't want anyone looking down on God's Message because of their behavior." Now I put myself in the older women category not because I find my struggle not being with strong drink or a wagging tongue, and not because I think I'm such a model of goodness. Instead I see that girls are starting to come to me as an example of how to take care of my family and my house. No, I'm not really good at it yet, but I have had some practice.

In fact, it wasn't really until my last baby, Emari, that I really started enjoying being a mommy. I know that's sad but I still had this strange feeling that I was on a really extended babysitting job and eventually the parents were gonna come home and pay me for taking care of their kiddos. Even now sometimes my older son calls me mom with his deep masculine voice and it sets off something inside me. "Who is he talking to exactly?" I ask myself. "I'm way too young to be his momma." Now this time around, I've been enjoying postpartum recovery an awful lot. Once I got over the pain, I have been reveling in the clean house aspect. All of the sudden, I'm planning meals, and cleaning up and loving it. My family, other than the momma cooking part, have enjoyed it too. (everybody in our house prefers for daddy to cook, including daddy, but that's another blog)

I have to give props to two girls I overheard at the park the other day. They were discussing their lives at home and how their husbands went to work each day. These girls, who are in no way slaves to domesticity, actually verbalized their belief that as long as they are staying home with the baby, keeping house and taking care of their husband is their job. Oh my gosh, what a novel idea. I never really looked at it that way, honestly. In my dutiful staying-home-with-the young-uns days, I resented my man driving away each morning and leaving me to a day full of drudgery and near slavery at home. I thought he had it good and even though I kept house and took care of the babies, I hated every minute. Nearly every day I planned my escape.

Now those babies are grown and helping around the house wondering when exactly I'm going to go out and get a real job. Not the image I want to project anymore. They do need me and desire my attention at home, but my distress in those early years poured over onto them. There's still a few good years left to remedy now that I've seen the light, but I do wish I would have had good examples of content older women to guide me along my road. There are seasons in life and there are roads that we choose to walk down. In this road and season I want to be a Godly example of contentment and success God help me.

Fear Factor

2009-10-26T05:26:00.000-07:00

Recently I've been really struggling with fear. I don't know if its the surge of postpartum hormones or what, but I hate being a fraidey cat. Every new mother does the checking to make sure the baby's breathing routine, but with this pregnancy it just seems to me its been a little more than normal fear. With all that we went through it was warranted, but I really had a lot of truly horrible bad dreams. Labor and delivery was nearly a panic attack and that coming from a seasoned veteran of the delivery room table. Yuck, I hate my human frailty. So I decided yesterday that enough was enough. Prayer is my only weapon at times like this and its more than enough believe me. The Lord started revealing to me some important scriptural truth on the subject of fear.

2 Timothy 1:7
For God did not give us a spirit of timidity (of cowardice, of craven and cringing and fawning fear), but [He has given us a spirit] of power and of love and of calm and well-balanced mind and discipline and self-control.

He gives us the spirit of power, which gives us authority over fear in our lives. Because of what Jesus did on the cross, we have power to overcome.

Love seems out of place in regards to fear but the Word says in 1 John 4:17 that, "There is no room in love for fear. Well-formed love banishes fear. Since fear is crippling, a fearful life—fear of death, fear of judgment—is one not yet fully formed in love." When you're talking about relationships, fear and love make more sense. If you love someone you need to be able to trust him. That's where fear can come in and cripple the relationship. We must trust God that He loves us and also trust Him in order to love Him. If you're walking around in a partnership that you can't really feel comfortable that the other person is doing their part, you won't let your guard down.

The calm and well-balance mind is where our imaginations come into play. Fear can make your mind think some pretty crazy things. You have got to have control over your imagination. That includes not allowing influences like television, movies or even books or magazines to feed into your imagination.

These things don't make it easy to overcome my fear, but they do give me insight into how I can combat it and win.

Just Desserts

2009-10-25T07:20:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was an amazing Saturday filled with activity. I found myself immersed in more than I bargained for when I surveyed my day via the early morning hours I've been putting in lately. I really should know better that a girl just can't plan her day with accuracy any longer. Our youngest daughter was the flower girl in a friend's wedding and that excursion took on the entirety of my day. Two year olds are handfuls already but dress them in a formal and send 'em to a reception and you're asking for it. She really did an amazing job considering all that transpired yesterday.

The point of this post is not my daughter however, it was the caliber of servanthood I witnessed around me at the said event. I love watching people truly give themselves for others. You know the kind of laying down your life for another that says, "I'm doing this for you and for God, not for what I can get in return but for the sheer pleasure of serving." Almost sounds ridiculous doesn't it? So many times we run into people, maybe even recognize in our own hearts, the every man for himself mentality.

I've heard it said even in ministry that someone had paid their dues and now they're basking in the fruit of their labor. At the time I remember thinking that I really hoped I would never feel like my job was done. It seemed somewhat prideful to think that someone thought they could be the judge of their own works. Jesus paid the ultimate price and laid down His own life for mankind yet His job isn't finished. So what makes us think we can slow down?

2 Timothy 4:1-8

I can't impress this on you too strongly. God is looking over your shoulder. Christ himself is the Judge, with the final say on everyone, living and dead. He is about to break into the open with his rule, so proclaim the Message with intensity; keep on your watch. Challenge, warn, and urge your people. Don't ever quit. Just keep it simple.
You're going to find that there will be times when people will have no stomach for solid teaching, but will fill up on spiritual junk food—catchy opinions that tickle their fancy. They'll turn their backs on truth and chase mirages. But you—keep your eye on what you're doing; accept the hard times along with the good; keep the Message alive; do a thorough job as God's servant.
You take over. I'm about to die, my life an offering on God's altar. This is the only race worth running. I've run hard right to the finish, believed all the way. All that's left now is the shouting—God's applause! Depend on it, he's an honest judge. He'll do right not only by me, but by everyone eager for his coming.

Take your cue from Jesus, the ultimate Judge, and your encouragement from Paul, a man who never slowed down. Keep running, let God be the one to exalt you, not yourself.

Restoration

2009-10-23T13:12:00.000-07:00

When God restores you He does a much better job than you can even imagine possible. There have been so many times in my life that harsh things have come at me and I have lost precious things. I never believed that God would be able to give them back to me least of all restore them to even greater splendor. My mom always told me that when I was little and I would get hurt I would hide my boo boos from her. I would cover them up and pretend that they weren't even there. I remember being so afraid of showing her my owies because she would want to check it out and maybe clean it or spray bactine on it.

As an adult I do the same thing with God. I hide my pain even from Him. I run from His cleansing power. Whether the pain was self-inflicted or brought on by someone else my response remains the same, "I can handle this on my own, I don't need your help." Yet as I draw near to God I realize that if my wounds are allowed to heal on their own sometimes they don't heal correctly. There is still some dirt in there or the bone isn't set right. That can lead to infection or lameness. The scouring that God gives to our wounds is so necessary, and Jesus is the balm of Gilead. Anything that He requires from us, He will give back and in even greater abundance than before.

It is so hard for us to understand that simple concept. He doesn't want to take from us for no reason. He wants to give so much to us, but we have to be willing to let Him in to our hearts and clean house. His system is so superior to our thinking and comprehension that it boggles our minds. Where else could I bring my broken dirty tattered life and receive love, mercy, and understanding, even acceptance? The life of a King's daughter in exchange for the life of a beggar on the streets. God loves us more than we can even begin to grab a hold of, so don't even try. Let Him wrap you in His love, no holds barred.

Its Not a Job, Its an Adventure

2009-10-22T12:47:00.000-07:00

My husband and I almost never fight. Now before you go jumping to conclusions about how our relationship must be unhealthy, let me explain. I'm married to an extremely easy going guy. You have to run over his dog on purpose to get him mad. My personality is a little different and I must add that most of our arguments are over my unhappiness, not his. Over our years together, he's really gotten to know me well and I'm probably really spoiled.

Anyways, such was not the case earlier this week. Some things occurred, in my husband's mind probably just short of my running over his dog on purpose, and we had a fight. Nothing big, just two unhappy people talking to each other in short direct sentences with a stern tone attached. He went off to do his thing and I stayed home and made sure I was in bed before he got home. No discussion later, no return to the subject, but definitely not back to our old jolly selves. However, what I think is truly amazing about this man God blessed me with is that even though I know he still thinks he's right and I'm wrong, he loves me anyway. He shows me in trivial ways like pouring my coffee and making it just the way I like it. Picking up things that he knows I love like sweet pickles and croissants and mint chocolate biscotti. I show him by picking up his messes and organizing his schedule and texting him so he won't forget appointments. Stupid stuff that maybe nobody else cares about, but these are the things that make us just that, us.

Its not just me and its not just him, its us, together. We've been together long enough to know exactly what makes each other tick and yeah, maybe we don't have to sit down and hash out the ways that I hurt him and the ways he hurt me during that last fight. We take the complaints on both sides and think I'll adjust, you'll adjust and let's keep on going. Love is work, its a daily decision to keep on with someone who's just a human being, complete with flaws. I wouldn't have it any other way.

Funerals

2009-10-21T06:09:00.000-07:00

Old blog, good stuff.

Journal entry: April 5, 2007

I woke up this morning with the sense of a gaping emptiness inside of me. Laying in the darkness, alone in a house full of children, and a bed complete with husband and newborn child I felt loneliness engulfing me. This is not a new experience for me, yet nonetheless I went through the motions like always of trying to explain it away. Should I lay there and cry, mourning the lost opportunities of my life? Call on the telephone my estranged father in California who was never there for me as a child? Seek counseling? Once again I can rationalize each of these instances and why they didn't work before and why they won't work now. I'm a Christian and have been all my life, so why do I feel incomplete? Why and when did this all begin?

Finally realizing that I am losing my battle with insomnia, I get up to take a shower. As the hot water hits my skin I go back in my mind trying to find the beginning of this feeling. From the time I was a little girl I have always dreaded getting up in the morning. For me there was no freshness in the new day, only monotony. I lived for the expectancy of an excitement that might come one day. But was it always this way? Then the image focuses in my mind and my emotions crumble. Could that be it? Might I actually have a reason and a beginning for this achiness inside?

I remember my second grade year waking up in the early hours many mornings to the sounds of busyness outside my window. Looking out to investigate I would see the employees of the mortuary behind my house unloading the hearsts. I will never forget the creepiness and the awful feeling the thought of a dead body puts into the mind of a child. When something is dead the very best you can do with it is dig a hole, cover it up with dirt, put a sign on it so anyone passing by knows that it's there, when it lived and died and its name. Ultimately after all the ceremony you have to walk away. As a child I knew very little of death except that I didn't want it to happen to anyone I knew. It was an ending to something I loved and I would never have it back ever. Now as an adult and having witnessed countless funerals I understand more. The bottom line is you have to walk away and go on. It does not matter that the thing that you're walking away from has somehow grasped a little piece of you down there in that black hole you just covered up.

Looking back, that was the year that my parents split up. For me it was the first death I ever really knew, but naming it and putting a headstone up hasn't been so easy. It wasn't just my parents marriage, it was a certain life I would never know of, a complete family, a relationship with the most important man in a girls life that I would never have. So much was entailed in that funeral I don't know if I have even been able to bury it all. Maybe some parts are still out in the open rotting away.

Conclusion May 24, 2008

Looking at this old journal entry I am so glad I didn't finish it. As I remember, at the time I couldn't, there was no resolution that day. God had begun a revealing of the deadness in my life, a work that still continues. When I tell people what has conspired in my walk with the Lord the past two years, I am amazed myself. In 2007, God taught me that He is not a strict dictator. There is no figuring Him out. He is way too complex and sometimes contradictory. He uses prostitutes, foreigners, Gentiles, shepherd boys and all the most unlikely vessels.

This year I am learning of His great love for me. He cares so much He doesn't want anything to hinder our relationship. He has filled me up so many times with His goodness, but this time He says there is to be nothing else in my cup taking up space that He wants to fill. Emptiness before God is an intense aching. Its like a woman who so desires to be pregnant that its all she can think of. I want to feel His life growing inside of me.

Allow Him to stand at the tomb of your heart and call out all the deadness. He will bring those dead things back to life so you can go forth and proclaim God's goodness. You know when Jesus went to call Lazarus back from the dead He was warned that the body had begun to stink or rot away, but when Jesus brought Lazarus back he was whole. Restoration is a glorious thing.

Keepin' It in Check

2009-10-20T05:41:00.000-07:00

Sorry that I didn't keep up my new habit of posting daily yesterday. I was kinda caught up in the whole mommy-new baby thing and couldn't find the time. Ah, plus I had an appointment, and my husband was on the internet when I had some ideas to post, and my kids had homework, and laundry had to be done, and we had company for dinner and a counseling appointment as well. Wow, did I even get any sleep last night?

These are supposed to be my down days, you know postpartum six weeks. Sleeping when the baby sleeps and such. That has never been a luxury I could afford. When there was only one, I relished my quiet time. Then two and three and four and so on and there was no napping because there was always another baby or two to care for and prevent from creating too much mayhem while the baby slept. So, I'm doing my best to create a restful atmosphere for myself during this time instead. Trying hard to not condemn myself for not cleaning everything that has been neglected over the past six months while I was either on bed rest or just too darn big to be able to manage it. Don't get me wrong the house is not in danger of being unsanitary or anything, its just not up to my standards. So I force myself to look the other way, and try to sneak a nap in the recliner.

Life is just too hectic and it never really stops being that way. When times come around that I have an excuse for sitting out from the rat race, I'm gonna take 'em. God's okay with this. He instructs us weekly to take time and sit it out. Otherwise known as the Sabbath Day. He also allots times for just delivered mommies to get to rest and rejuvenate. Those times of "uncleanness" mentioned in the Bible are actually for our benefit. We don't have to entertain, go out, go to church, "minister unto our husbands" and such things during that time. I know some of you are shuddering out there. But hey, I'm good with it. Let me be a recluse for a little while. It allows me more time to spend with my brand new little guy, quiet time with the Lord is more forthcoming, and sometimes I can even snatch a little alone time with the man of my dreams as well. Don't neglect the rest that your God commands. It really is for your best interests.

Playing Hooky From Church

2009-10-18T07:43:00.000-07:00

While everyone in my house was busy getting themselves ready for church, I sat almost contentedly in the recliner feeding the baby. Misty Edwards was playing in the background "I'm always on His mind," and I was reading my devotions for the day. The song is a beautiful lyrical duet of the love between us and God. Devotion and passion. Then this passage jumped out off the pages of my Bible at me.

Jeremiah 32:37-44

"'Watch for this! I will collect them from all the countries to which I will have driven them in my anger and rage and indignation. Yes, I'll bring them all back to this place and let them live here in peace. They will be my people, I will be their God. I'll make them of one mind and heart, always honoring me, so that they can live good and whole lives, they and their children after them. What's more, I'll make a covenant with them that will last forever, a covenant to stick with them no matter what, and work for their good. I'll fill their hearts with a deep respect for me so they'll not even think of turning away from me.
"'Oh how I'll rejoice in them! Oh how I'll delight in doing good things for them! Heart and soul, I'll plant them in this country and keep them here!'
"Yes, this is God's Message: 'I will certainly bring this huge catastrophe on this people, but I will also usher in a wonderful life of prosperity. I promise. Fields are going to be bought here again, yes, in this very country that you assume is going to end up desolate—gone to the dogs, unlivable, wrecked by the Babylonians. Yes, people will buy farms again, and legally, with deeds of purchase, sealed documents, proper witnesses—and right here in the territory of Benjamin, and in the area around Jerusalem, around the villages of Judah and the hill country, the Shephelah and the Negev. I will restore everything that was lost.' God's Decree."

Misty's song goes on to say, "How far will you let me go, how bad will you let me be?" How did we get there from the passion and devotion? Well, you can bet the change is on our part, not God's. There He is in Jeremiah pouring out judgments on His beloved people when out of nowhere He lets it slip that He's gonna make it all good in the end. He's really, really mad at the people for turning their backs on Him, and He's gonna let them have what they deserve, but then in His ultimate mercy, there's already a plan in His mind to reconcile. This seems so tender and sweet, like a nice little love story we watch played out on a DVD. But then reality hits and we realize that God actually does this for us, each of us, individually. God loves me, and even when I sit out of the game, I'm still on His radar. When I've done really stupid things that would make anyone else slap me in the face and leave me alone, never talking to me again, He comes back and loves me even better than before. Not because His love has changed, but possibly because I deserve it even less.

I love it because even when I can't be where He is, He comes to me. That seems crazy considering that God is omnipresent and omniscient and omnipotent. But how many times do we think that if we don't congregate on Sunday, we're out of luck? Yet, He's everywhere. Not that we shouldn't gather together as a body, but get real, He's wherever we are and He LOVES us. I absolutely love it when He comes to visit.

October!

2009-10-17T16:31:00.000-07:00

I love Fall. It is without a doubt my most favorite season. The cool weather, the gorgeous colors, apple cider and pumpkins. Yes! So with all that said I absolutely love taking our kiddos to the pumpkin patch. Its a memory that I have held dear from my younger days and one that I am so glad I can pass on to my own children. I love it that it never gets old for them. So the older ones don't want to ride on the hay ride with the same gusto they used to, but they don't try to get out of the trip either. This is the one time of year (besides the 4th of July) that I go out and by them special holiday shirts and hair ribbons and such. We all trek to the local farm to check out the animals, ride the wagon, and return with our treasured pumpkins. I love making memories with my babies. Family is awesome.

Culture Cultivation

2009-10-16T06:41:00.000-07:00

Another repost from my myspace blog. Hope you like it!

Lately, God has really been impressing on my spirit the idea of cultures. A couple of weeks ago as I was worshipping and feeling like I was getting nowhere, I stopped and looked around. Although I don't want to sound like Elijah, "I'm the only one left Lord!" that's how I felt. Where was the fervency that I felt in my spirit amongst my counterparts. Did anyone else in the room feel like me? When I was in the seventh grade my school suddenly decided that it was only going to go up to the 6th grade. That year my mom had to make the decision to put me into public school. I was tested and found to need placement in the advanced classes. For some reason the principal decided to start me out in general classes, however. That first quarter I attended class with students that were at their level of learning capability and I quickly learned to stoop to seem just like them. Choosing not to raise my hand with the correct answer and even purposely spelling words wrong because I didn't want to stand out. The very next quarter they moved me to the honors class. Finally I could stretch again feeling challenged by those around me to reach towards my full and unadulterated potential. What a difference my environment made.

This past week I went to a conference on healing. Boy was the environment different. Everyone was moving in rhythm with God's spirit and each had the motive to touch His heart and see His face. I found myself looking around a lot. Suddenly I realized that I wasn't alone, others wanted Him as much or more than I do. This was a different place, not a better one, just different.

So I have been drawn to what exactly is the difference? The culture is unique, the environment unusual to me. I had been placed in a different petri dish, so to speak. You know I found that in order for a scientist to separate a single cell from its surroundings, he must first dissolve the matrix keeping the cell in place. Those things that the cell clings to for support. This is not an easy process, if you want the cell to survive. Finally, with some gentle agitation the cell is free. It is then placed into an environment rich in the particulars necessary for that cell's needs. Then it begins to reproduce cells of like character and manner. But even on its own the cell maintains it prior function or purpose. My prayer is that God successfully reproduce the culture that He desires through my life.

Pioneers

2009-10-15T09:13:00.000-07:00

For those readers who don't already know this, my husband and I are in the process of planting a new church. This has been probably the greatest undertaking we have proceeded willingly into as a couple. Note that I said willingly. The process actually began in our hearts a few years ago and initially presented itself as a deep seated dissatisfaction with the status quo. The two of us have always swam against the current, individually and as a couple. Even in our marriage when presented with struggles, there were times we fought strictly to avoid becoming a statistic. I really like that about us. Maybe you think I'm being a little prideful in that statement but that's alright.

We have identified ourselves as pioneers, trailblazers if you will. Our life motto might be best reflected with the immortal words of Captain James T. Kirk, "...to boldly go where no man has gone before." This is a tough calling to pull off, you know. You find yourself having a hard time finding people who understand you, most just think you're crazy. You hear things like, "It will pass, you're just going through a phase." No, no, this isn't a phase. I have been given a mandate to carry out an amazing work in my city. God called me to go out from where He will no longer allow me to be comfortable, to do a new thing. Pioneers live in covered wagons, and tents, and caves. They are nomads searching for the promised land. They fill the pages of our history books. The Bible is full of them, Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, even David. That's not crazy, that's God-inspired movement into a new realm. Ushering in the things of His kingdom even when people don't see what He's doing and they call you a troublemaker. Paul understood this.

Acts 18:9-11 One night the Master spoke to Paul in a dream: "Keep it up, and don't let anyone intimidate or silence you. No matter what happens, I'm with you and no one is going to be able to hurt you. You have no idea how many people I have on my side in this city." That was all he needed to stick it out. He stayed another year and a half, faithfully teaching the Word of God to the Corinthians.

You know sometimes all you've got is God on your side, but that's more than enough to get the job done.

Adjustments

2009-10-14T11:36:00.000-07:00

Well little man has made a successful entrance into our insanity riddled abode. He has navigated through two weeks without even a hiccup. The closest call he encountered has definitely been Emari's repeated attempts to feed him with her baby bottle.

Eat this and like it!

He's a really good baby. Only cries when there's an issue, like hunger or diaper attention needed. He doesn't even spit up, he just wants to eat and snuggle. I love it. He reminds me alot of his big brother in his temperament and makes me once again realize how great God is in his placement of children in our home. I promise you Tony was an amazing baby, I know he'd love to know that I'm relaying that to the internet world.

The Bambino-Back in the good ol' days.

When Rebecca was born she was a little more difficult, not bad, she just got into things and made fun messes for me to pick up. She's still like that by the way.

The Boo sportin' a bikini.

Serena made me wonder if I really wanted to ever have any more children or even babysit other's children. Oh my gosh, she was a handful. Always eating or crying or throwing up. Repeat cycle.

Serena asleep-mommy and daddy's only time of rest.

Then Taylor in her mellowness redeemed the world of babies to me.

Who could resist those eyes?

Emari has a little of Serena's personality but not with all the messy results. She gets into things, but apologizes afterwards.

Marzipan looking alot like her little brother. She did have brown hair!

Now Zion, he's all sweetness and light to a mommy who's ready to throw in the proverbial towel of babymaking to move on to an even greater challenge of babyraising. Phew!

Little Man.

Man's Ideas + God's Anointing=Good Stuff

2009-10-13T10:05:00.000-07:00

What really happens when man gives his plans over to God's leading? Wow, what an amazing exchange! Its almost as awe inspiring as a sinner trading all his or her garbage and receiving eternal life instead. It overwhelms me all the time when I think about how God plants a seed of a dream inside me and then He allows me to follow through. Believing all the while that it is my own idea, I then submit it to the Author of my life and He gives me the power and ability to bring it to pass. The key is the submission. When we lay down at His feet and are willing to sacrifice the thing that we hold dear, He comes through and makes a way for us. He is not some monarch with a control problem who wants to beat His subjects into doing His will. Oh no, he greatly desires for us to come to Him of our own free will and ask for His help and guidance.

2 Thessalonians 1: 11-12 Because we know that this extraordinary day is just ahead, we pray for you all the time—pray that our God will make you fit for what he's called you to be, pray that he'll fill your good ideas and acts of faith with his own energy so that it all amounts to something. If your life honors the name of Jesus, he will honor you. Grace is behind and through all of this, our God giving himself freely, the Master, Jesus Christ, giving himself freely.

They Call Me the Pastor's Son's Wife

2009-10-12T05:53:00.000-07:00

Okay, since its Columbus Day and all, I decided to be lazy once more and post an old blog. Hope you guys don't hate me but this one always gets me even though I wrote it.

You know whenever I have been to a concert or theatrical production I have always found myself envious of those seated in the front row. I wonder, how much did they have to pay for those seats? Lucky! Still sometimes I think that people feel the same way about those seated in the front row at church. Lucky! But what price paid for that seat? While the payment is definitely not in monetary terms the price tag is still a hefty one. Responsibility and accountability are main stays. At times life as I view it from the front row can become overwhelming and exhausting. How do I live for God, and at the same time keep man happy with me? The effort can be almost too much. Yet as I have been delving in to my daily devotions and seeking God's advice through my other reading I find that when it gets tough God is still right there. With His favor does come scrutiny, yet His divine Hand in my life is unmistakable. Leadership is most times not all it is cracked up to be and the public can be merciless. Maturity says that we stand firm no matter what the obstacle, no matter what the crowd does or says. In one breath they may want to shower you with blessings and then with another they may tear you to pieces with their words.

"In the evening his disciples went down to the sea, got in the boat, and headed back across the water to Capernaum. It had grown quite dark and Jesus had not yet returned. A huge wind blew up, churning the sea. They were maybe three or four miles out when they saw Jesus walking on the sea, quite near the boat. They were scared senseless, but he reassured them, "It's me. It's all right. Don't be afraid." So they took him on board. In no time they reached land—the exact spot they were headed to."

I love this scripture because it is just one more instance when the seas rose up around the disciples and Jesus comes along and makes it all okay. They even reached the place they had originally headed towards. How many times have I found myself in this exact predicament and when it was all said and done I looked around and said "Hey, it was rough sailing there for awhile but look I made it! Thank you God!" Just remember the crowd's opinion of you may change, but God's opinion is what matters.

Eight is ...Enough?

2009-10-11T05:09:00.000-07:00

You know my husband and I have always tried our utter best to find God's will in all the decisions of our life together. That should go without saying for all followers of Christ, but at times it seems that society dictates a lot of our decision making processes, even within the framework of the church. One of these questions is about exactly how many children is enough. I've heard it said that all families should have a quiver full, and that is at least 3. I don't know about you but if I was going into battle, I'd probably stock up on more ammunition than that. Then there are those who believe that we should only have as many children as we can care for. But that's blown out the window, when you realize that most people in their childbearing years are still struggling to find their way financially. For Josh and I it didn't ever matter how well off we were getting, when a baby came we would always find ourselves hopelessly broke. To the point of feeling like the hospital parking lot was the impound, when it came to paying for the parking that had accrued while we were in the hospital.

We decided not to make a decision about how many we were going to have. Over our baby making journey we've found varying responses to our fruitfulness. Babies 1, 2, and 3 came to us with little problem or major response from others. Its about when we hit number four that it all started. I remember being afraid to tell my mom. Not that she had ever acted anything other than completely overjoyed at our announcements, but for some reason I was embarrassed. At the time we were serving as missionaries in the Dominican Republic and staying with a family that had five children. The mother told me that she had experienced the same thing with number four and five. It made me feel a little better to know I wasn't the only one, and when I called my mom, she just laughed at me. Her joy was infectious. With five and six we learned to just drive on and let em have it. Josh's dad actually gets a little excited when we tell him we have an announcement to make. He always thinks its a new baby.

Our family has always been extremely supportive of our large family, but the public at large is what sometimes gets to us. We hear comments like, "You do know what causes that, right?" and "They're all yours?!" I personally like the, "But you look too young to have so many children!" comment to which I always like to respond, "Well we are." Its not like I woke up one morning and thought, "You know I want to have truckloads of babies and spend my time changing diapers and cleaning up messes and fielding questions from curious onlookers." It really just happened, yes I do know how it happens. But we allowed it to if you will. We allowed the Lord to bless us with the children He has given us. I know that the return is going to be greater than any investment I have put in.

Psalm 127:3-5
Don't you see that children are God's best gift?
the fruit of the womb his generous legacy?
Like a warrior's fistful of arrows
are the children of a vigorous youth.
Oh, how blessed are you parents,
with your quivers full of children!
Your enemies don't stand a chance against you;
you'll sweep them right off your doorstep.

Lessons in the Forest

2009-10-10T08:08:00.000-07:00

Seeing as I have some really good (my own opinion of course) older blog posts on my myspace account I decided that on the off day that I can't think of anything amazing to write, I would repost those thoughts here. This post is from April 2008. If you haven't read it before, I hope you enjoy.

So our Smoky Mountain adventure is drawing to a close and I have almost survived Josh’s first attempt at writing a book. We have so much alone time it’s almost nerve-wracking. I don’t know what to do with my time. That’s a good thing though. So Emari and I went on a walk in the woods today. We started out at the park visitor center. The hike was described as an easy 45 minute hike with a few steep hills. With that depiction I decided to keep the baby in her stroller. It was beautiful. A little rainy but it made the forest seem more magical. The road was easy going until we hit the first bridge, pick up the stroller and roll on. Then another bridge. Okay, let’s keep going. Then the hill got really steep, no big deal. Except for the fact that I seem to have purchased the only stroller known to mankind to have a heat seeking device which causes it to search out and get tangled in every exposed root on the trail. With much struggling and strength of will, I reached the top. All along, Emari was singing and reaching out for little branches that crossed her path. She only fussed when I stopped at the crest of the hill to catch my breath. Finally we reached a cabin with some other people. I busied myself with pretending to read my trail guide. I didn’t want them to think I was stupid for pushing a stroller up that mountainside.

It was then that the thoughts came, should I turn back now? What if the next hills were even steeper? What if there were more people who would look at me like I was crazy? I knew the road that led back. Then I heard the Voice. Amber, this is like your life. What? That’s it I’m pressing onward. The voice kept on. The road is sometimes steep, there are times that you will be pushing others onward, people who really don’t even understand your sacrifice or the effort behind your struggle. There will be those along the way that don’t see why you even bother coming this way, with all that you’re bringing along with you. So I pushed forward, more resolutely seeking the end of the trail. Along the way I stopped to read my guide and saw these words, "Perhaps the wonder of creation is most apparent in the small things at our feet." Wow, God! Are you talking to me? Had I gotten caught up in the struggle and failed to see the beauty that was around me? Like my Joshua says, "You’ve got one life, one chance at it. Live!"

How much do we miss about God by complaining about the way. Even in the struggle, there was so much beauty surrounding me and Emari. She could see it from her vantage point, but I was distracted. As we neared the end of our trek in the woods we came upon some turkeys. It was so amazing to see them up close and in the wild. God is so perfect in His revealing to us about Himself. When the distractions had been removed I could see His hand leading me. I know for me it is so easy to get caught up in the life, that I fail to really live.

...and the Word of Their Testimony

2009-10-09T14:58:00.000-07:00

Disclaimer: This post is graphic in some details, so be warned before reading any further.

Revelation 12:11 says,

They overcame him by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony;they did not love their lives so much as to shrink from death.

Now I usually don't share publicly on personal struggles that we encounter in our home, but I knew that I could not leave this one unspoken. I cannot be silent in what miracles my Father has done for me in this year. As a couple my husband and I, not to mention our children, overcame and so we must provide the word of that testimony to whosoever will. Anyway, I began this blog out of the need for a creative outlet some months ago. You see for the first time ever I was having trouble with a pregnancy. My doctor had me on bedrest and I was going insane. Let's back up a little bit and say that I have never had any troubles with birthin' young uns. My OB actually referred to me as a "baby machine." I took it as a compliment from a professional. AS soon as we announced that we were pregnant the prophetic words started rolling in. This was one special baby.

Everything was going just fine until early one morning 13 weeks into the pregnancy I got up as normal to use the bathroom. A frequent occurrence, but this time I found myself in a pool of blood. I don't mean just a little bit, I mean I looked down and there was a puddle on the floor of the bathroom. In shock I called to my husband and jumped into the shower to rinse off. He came in and like he always does in an emergency, stayed calm and went right to work cleaning up my mess. We didn't talk, we didn't need to. There was no question about what was going on. I just sat on the floor of the shower and cried out to the only One I could. Thinking things like, "How could this happen to me?" and "My baby is gone." as I prayed for strength. So I finally told my husband that I didn't want to go the hospital and we just went to bed. Didn't get any sleep at all, because of course, we just laid there silently asking God what was going on?

In my mind I was whisked back to a time long ago when I was praying as a young girl after finding out that all the women in my family had experienced multiple miscarriages. I wanted to be different and break that curse, so I began entreating God early. Add to that all the words we had received concerning this baby. I reminded Him of that, but I heard nothing from Him. All I had was a fleeting vision of my tiny baby and God holding him in His hand. What did that mean? Was He trying to tell me that my baby was gone but present with the Lord, or could I dare to hope that God was letting me know that He was protected and safe? The next morning I called my mama, because sometimes you just have to talk to mamma. Between her and my husband I finally agreed to go to the doctor. I sat in the waiting room with all those pregnant women and just felt all dead inside and mad at God. Yeah, I had five other babies at home, but I didn't want to lose any of my babies.

The doctor called us back and after checking me and hearing my account of what happened, decided that it looked like a miscarriage. She sent us back for an ultrasound to confirm. Again, I was just numb of all feeling. The tech came in and I couldn't bear to look at the screen. I looked to my husband for strength and his face seemed odd to me. He was smiling. Thinking he was really insane with grief until he said,"Baby you've got to look. He's still there, and he's alive!" Oh my gosh. We cried and cried. The doctor decided that I had a condition called placenta previa and sent me home on bedrest. Crisis averted. Now throughout the pregnancy there were other close calls and shake downs, but the big one was right there at the beginning. You see, Josh and I were really believing that since this baby coincided with the birth of our church plant that he was symbolic of what was going on in the spirit realm. He was even named Zion for a reason.

When we began on this journey to start a new work in Fayetteville, we were having prayer meetings with our youth group every Monday night. These were intense meetings and one night one of the girls began praying Isaiah 62. It became our hearts cry for our city. For a few years now we've been reading through the Bible as a group with a schedule. What's really cool is that on our Zion's birthday the scripture reading for the day was:

Isaiah 62:1-5

Regarding Zion, I can't keep my mouth shut, regarding Jerusalem, I can't hold my tongue,
Until her righteousness blazes down like the sun
and her salvation flames up like a torch.
Foreign countries will see your righteousness,
and world leaders your glory.
You'll get a brand-new name
straight from the mouth of God.
You'll be a stunning crown in the palm of God's hand,
a jeweled gold cup held high in the hand of your God.
No more will anyone call you Rejected,
and your country will no more be called Ruined.
You'll be called Hephzibah (My Delight),
and your land Beulah (Married),
Because God delights in you
and your land will be like a wedding celebration.
For as a young man marries his virgin bride,
so your builder marries you,
And as a bridegroom is happy in his bride,
so your God is happy with you.

To me that was my God confirming to me that this process had come full circle. We made it through, in shaky times and in celebration. Thank you God for standing with us in tribulation!

How to Dress For Success-Christian Version

2009-10-07T11:33:00.000-07:00

Do you ever wish there was an appendix in the Bible, somewhere after Revelation, but before the concordance and maps that contained some additional "How-to guides"? I think one that I would look for is, "How to Dress for the Occasion." I mean we have man's opinion on the idea, but what is God's? Now before you dismiss me thinking I'm some upstart kook trying to breed rebellion in the church, let me give you my pedigree.

I was raised in church, third generation to be precise. Dedicated as an infant in the flowy white gown with all the pomp a good Pentecostal girl should have. Sunday school, Christian school, summer camp, convention, you name it I was in attendance. My grandma was on every committee and board, a real pillar. My mom taught Sunday School and even set up the communion table a time or two. I've been seeped in this thing since the womb. Our Sunday morning dressing routine included fancy dress, hose, and shoes that clicked when you walked through the foyer. I had play dresses and church dresses in my closet and it was on Saturday night having my hair rolled for Sunday morning service that I was told, "Beauty is pain." Sacrifice begins young.

Okay, fast forward, now I'm all grown up and married to a pastor. Most people realize that now the stakes are even higher. How does a pastor's wife dress for church? Man I struggle with that one. A few years back it all came to a screeching halt when I found myself in an intense crisis of faith. (no, it wasn't over how to dress for church) I had some serious issues to work through and crucial questions for God. It started to be difficult to get up and go to church on Sunday mornings. My heart was broken, my spirit crushed and standing there looking at my Sunday best, I felt like I was picking out a costume. Dressing to impress became a struggle. I wanted God to take me and make me whole again, not put on a mask and parade in front of the church congregation like everything was fine. My insides felt like rags, but I was expected to wear finery. "By whom?" I asked. Is that what God required of me, or did He simply want me?

Even now, there's an unsettling between the traditionals, who say we honor God when we come to Him in our best, and the contemporaries, who believe that God meets us where we're at. Its confusing. I mean God is my King, but my Friend. The Creator of all that is, but my Father. Seemingly contrasting ideas, but God cannot be put in a box, or described with mere words. His expectations have always been that we give Him our best, but not in a showy, outer appearance sort of way. His eyes throw aside the trappings we disguise ourselves in and cut deep to our heart motivations. We subscribe to certain avenues of belief to conceal our "inside" issues. Ripped jeans and Easter hats can be equally dishonoring to Him if used as a disguise. He wants us to come to Him in honesty and purity of heart.

Colossians 3:9-14 says, Don't lie to one another. You're done with that old life. It's like a filthy set of ill-fitting clothes you've stripped off and put in the fire. Now you're dressed in a new wardrobe. Every item of your new way of life is custom-made by the Creator, with his label on it. All the old fashions are now obsolete. Words like Jewish and non-Jewish, religious and irreligious, insider and outsider, uncivilized and uncouth, slave and free, mean nothing. From now on everyone is defined by Christ, everyone is included in Christ. So, chosen by God for this new life of love, dress in the wardrobe God picked out for you: compassion, kindness, humility, quiet strength, discipline. Be even-tempered, content with second place, quick to forgive an offense. Forgive as quickly and completely as the Master forgave you. And regardless of what else you put on, wear love. It's your basic, all-purpose garment. Never be without it.

Sounds like the way to dress to impress God has nothing at all to do with what is hanging on this outer shell we call a body. Let's stop stressing so much over the things that will pass and lift our eyes up to what really matters.

From the Womb

2009-09-25T05:32:00.000-07:00

Its been quite awhile since I posted. I have this hang up about not writing unless I'm inspired and let's just say I've been extremely uninspired to put down any of my thoughts. They have mainly stayed in the area of, "Is this pregnancy ever gonna be over?!!!" and nobody anywhere wants to read my depressing hormone induced rants. However, this morning there seems to be a lull and my heart and brain simultaneously came out of the fog long enough to compose a sharable thought. I've been reading in Isaiah for my daily devotions and was really stirred this morning as in every portion I read the Lord referred to His having called people from the womb. Now I know I may be a little more sensitive to this idea since I'm carrying a little person in my belly right now, but the thought hit me like a ton of bricks. His story has been written, preordained, if you will. I'm not saying there is no free choice, what I am saying is I sure hope he's up to the challenge. Paul encouraged us to live a life worthy of the calling. I imagine in my mind that we're all walking around with invisible titles over our heads, "revolutionary," "pastor," "president." These are our callings, but what do we really do with our lives? Are we living up to what God has in mind for us? His thoughts are limitless and nothing is impossible with Him. What dreams did you have before that you have let fall to the wayside? And while we're at it, these kids He gave me, am I helping them to see what He destined them to be? Or am I just biding time until they're grown up and discover it for themselves? Children are a gift from the Lord, but not just to their parents. I need to remember when I'm getting weary from the responsibility just what hangs in the balance. Both in my own race and as I coach my children in each of their own races.

High Society

2009-08-26T06:21:00.000-07:00

All my life I've dreamed of getting up in the morning and putting on a dress suit, driving off to my dream job in my dream car as I wave goodbye to my 2.5 children and husband. Though I married into a ministry family, to the man of my dreams might I add, I always thought that the dream could still be possible. I've bucked against the system, trying to cram it into my perfect little package of what I thought was normalcy. I've worked out there and I've stayed at home, and every time I come to the same stand off. When I drive away from my little babies as they are screaming for me to stay with them, somehow the glamour of the job and the "extra" money it brings doesn't seem so endearing. My life away from my family revolves around getting through the day and back to them. But when I stay at home thoughts of my wasted intelligence and unfulfilled dreams fill my head as I vacuum, change diapers and wait impatiently for my husband to come home and remind me that its all worth it.
See, I've been raised in an environment that will not allow me to feel content keeping a house, raising children to serve God, opening my home to strangers, and inspiring a man to keep on pursuing the fight. Why must I seek my fulfillment outside the doors of the home God has allowed us to create? And why do we as a society demean women who choose to remain home? Its almost as if we sabotage them with surroundings that scream for a dual income household. Even the church can be a culprit. If you are not "prosperous", you must be doing something wrong. We have a warped view of prosperity which dictates that it must show in the year and make of our vehicle, our neighborhood, our clothing. Yet, my God shall supply all my needs according to His riches and glory. My husband and I have learned that there are times to pull the tent pegs in and times to expand them. God always provides for the season. Our goal is to pursue Him in everything we do, acknowledging His grace in the season we find ourselves in. If we make that seem easy, don't be fooled, its not. We're just finding our lives held to a higher accountability than what the world tries to cram down our throats, and reaching for the society of heaven.

LIttle People

2009-07-22T06:17:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was one of those days. I don't know what really sets them apart, but I just wake up feeling funny. All day things went fine. I had a doctor's appointment, good report. I went to work at the office, no hang ups there. Then it was time to go home, uh oh. I realized I didn't want to go home. What exactly awaited me there? My four girls had been home alone since the morning and I just knew I'd be walking into disaster central. Sure enough, trash overflowing the can, apple core on the office desk, unfinished laundry. Now before you begin to think that all I do is complain, the first thing I did before I set in to put every thing to rights, was just sit down with the little tiny. Emari followed me into my room, sucking her thumb and twiddling her hair like she does and requested to do my hair. Of all my babies, she's the one who loves my hair. She sits on my lap and holds it or rubs it on her face. With that moment I gave her I was reminded once more how precious these times are. My house will always be dirty, there is no escaping that, but it will not always house tiny people who just want to be close to me. They are going to grow up and live in houses that they have to keep clean without me there. I will eventually come home to one that doesn't have someone eagerly awaiting my return to make everything right again and then in some weird and sad way I will look back at these frustrating times and wish they had lasted just a little longer.

Don't Call Me Organized

2009-07-20T14:11:00.000-07:00

Don't know if its the nesting instinct kicking in early, or the fact that I'm stuck at home more days than not that's got me riled up in an organizational dither. All I know is that the more I organize the more I realize just how hopeless it is. I love opening a closet and not having to worry about things falling on me. I love finding things were they should be. I absolutely adore falling asleep at night and not hearing the nagging of all the things that should be done, but aren't. Such is not the life for a mommy of almost six. Back in the early years when it was just Tony and Becca, things were simpler. Two kid rooms, two toy boxes, two dressers. Simplicity at its finest. Did I appreciate it, no. Enter Serena, who even in her earliest stages just couldn't be content to play with her own things. Suddenly everything was common property except for special things which had to be placed in an undisclosed location under surveillance at all times, lest they be tampered with and destroyed by tiny hands. Every couple of months I go through jags where I work through each room separating and folding and organizing. This time I'm at week two, week one was completed while my three girls were on vacation in Kentucky. When I take a break to catch my breath and grab a snack I run across various items that were part of the process, already in disarray. Or even worse I come downstairs only to find every dish I own in the sink. I so envy other women who can keep it all together and maintain a well-organized household, but I am learning that as for me and my house, well, its just not happenin'.

Mrs. Congeniality

2009-07-16T06:52:00.000-07:00

My morning started out as usual today, with a cup of coffee and my Bible. I'm reading, or in all honesty, attempting to read, the entire Bible through once more this year. Today was filled with some stockpiling of supplies for the construction of the temple, some reminders from Paul that the Bible wasn't written for everyone else, but for our own instruction, and a Psalm praising the Lord for His pure words. Okay, but what really reached out and grabbed my attention today was the Proverb.

Proverbs 19:14 (The Message)

14 House and land are handed down from parents,
but a congenial spouse comes straight from God.

Being the nerd that I am I looked it up on the internet and found this definition:

con·gen·ial (kn-jnyl) adj.
1. Having the same tastes, habits, or temperament; sympathetic.
2. Of a pleasant disposition; friendly and sociable: a congenial host.
3. Suited to one's needs or nature; agreeable: congenial surroundings.

Of course, I'm asking myself, "Am I the congenial spouse that was delivered from God to my husband?" Maybe there's nobody out there who asks this, but I do. Sometimes with all the things I am striving to be I neglect the most important one. Its something special to claim coming straight from the Lord as a gift to someone. That's what God calls children and yet not everyone accepts them as such. But as it is in my power to maintain my worth as a gift, I really want to hold fast to that. Breaking down that definition I can see an easy fit into the first part. Joshua and I have been married for 14 years. Many of our tastes and habits are identical by now. We've kind of melded into each other and can't really remember which one of us brought what to the table of individual tastes in the beginning. That makes for ease in decorating and food prep. Superficial things really when you think about it. Now look at part 2. Ooooh, pleasant disposition, yikes. Friendly and sociable? Good habits for a pastor's wife to have but not the first words you would use to describe me. Character flaws are immediately apparent. Now on to part 3. It really brings to mind the description of Eve in the Garden of Eden. She was made just for Adam, as a help mate for him. She was fashioned by the hands of God from the same material as Adam. Actually she was made from Adam, and yet she still got him into trouble, didn't she? In the end we come to the conclusion that while some parts of being a congenial spouse come more naturally, others require work. Day by day, it is ultimately my decision to remain a good gift for my husband with all of God's help, of course.

Finding the Floor

2009-07-08T08:22:00.000-07:00

Since Monday the kids and I have been working feverishly to get the house clean. Every room that has a carpet has been thoroughly gone over. "What dignitary is coming to visit you to warrant such cleaning?" you may ask. No one is coming to visit, we just really need to get our carpet cleaned. With a large family who entertains as much as we do I really should get it done more often, but the preparation is just so exhausting. Maintenance is easy for the downstairs as my husband and I live down there and generally we don't lower ourselves to throwing candy wrappers under the bed or dropping kernels of popcorn into every crevice in our room. The children however dwell upstairs and dad and I rarely have to venture up there. I make the trek more frequently to drop things off in the kids rooms. However, dad had to do some work up there in Tony's room this weekend, and boy it just wasn't good. He couldn't find the floor to walk through the girls room. What he was doing in there I still don't know, but the result was instantaneous. Instead of carpet, he found a sea of clothing and other girl items. Cleaning promptly insued and we have the victory as we have found the carpet and it indeed needs a very good cleaning.

No Mo' Status Quo

2009-06-24T12:49:00.000-07:00

Have you ever listened to someone who put into words what you were going through? Last night I watched the conference that my kids and husband are at right now. Damon Thompson was preaching and I always love to hear what God is giving to him, but wow. He talked about how God is raising a generation of people who are made to do things differently in the kingdom of God. They are the ones who are not content with the way things are right now. They are creative and called, but they must be careful to make sure they keep covenant with their God. Otherwise, their uniqueness is nothing. Since early last year I've been feeling this restlessness in my spirit that things just have to change. Lately I've really found myself struggling with the idea that maybe my feelings were just of a rebellious nature. I love it when God responds to your heart's cry and directs you in the way to go. The message last night was a prodding on for me that I'm not feeling wrong things, I just need to keep my hand in His. I know that there are so many out there that God is raising up to shake the foundations of religion and Christianity. However, we must remember to honor the work of those who have gone before us and prepared the way as God directed them. Without them we would not be poised where we are today.

Love of Your Life

2009-06-23T14:02:00.000-07:00

This Sunday I found myself listening to one of my all time favorite preachers, my husband. Now I know I'm a little biased, but you see I've had the unique privilege of watching this particular man of God develop his gifts over the years. My point in all of this is that as I sat there this last Sunday and listened to him preach, I began to think back over our years together. The very first time I held his hand it was actually in youth group during prayer, not on a date or anything and I somehow new that it was right. That was all before he ever asked me out. Love is so intense to start out and your whole world is about spending as much time as you can with that person. You make plans together and you begin your life as a couple. Time goes by and life just moves on. Pretty soon you find yourselves knowing each other so well, but just maintaining life. Love does not cool, but its business as usual. You know his favorite foods, he knows what movies you like, but when you really stop and think about it when was the last time you just enjoyed being together doing nothing. Is it even possible anymore or must you talk or plan or whatever? I love it when I just stop and bask in the time I have with my husband. All that we've withstood together, all that's ahead of us just melts away and its the "now". I realize that its the same way with the lover of my soul, Jesus. How much time do I spend asking Him for things, or telling Him about my problems? All the while its so rich to just spend time with Him. When I stop and just rest my spirit, I walk away from my time with Him so much more fulfilled. And when its all said and done as much as I like to think that my Joshua is the love of my life, Jesus has more of a claim on that title than anyone can. He has always known me and loved me, even before I knew He existed. Now that's the love of a lifetime.

Out of Danger

2009-06-17T08:11:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, I had my ultrasound to finalize if I was going to have to have a scheduled c-section. Obviously, I entered the doctor's office with much fear and trembling. Someone asked me the other day if the anxiety of childbirth goes away as you have more children. I assured the seeker that it definitely does not. Each pregnancy like each child is unique and different and holds the potential for so much to go wrong or right. Just as every other labor I have gone through, I knew that one way or the other the Lord was going to be right there with me, but I still fear the unknown that awaits. I've had normal labor and induced labor, but never a cesarean. From the beginning this pregnancy has been oh so peculiar and I thank God for the blessing of a long awaited second son, but fear has washed over my heart and soul more times than I would care to admit. The ultrasound showed that all was right again in my womb, my child is growing soundly and all obstructions to a normal delivery are removed. I know this is the direct result of God's hand and am so relieved. But at the same time I am ashamed that my faith in Him was ever shaken. I find myself not really taking a stand either way because I'm afraid to be disappointed. It would have been alright had the c-section been prescribed, but its so wonderful to know that it doesn't have to be that way. How much of the joy do I miss because I play it safe and don't ask God for the big things? Or does He just enjoy surprising me when I don't ask? He knows He can make it work either way, but prefers to show up in my life in the miraculous. I believe I have felt most loved by God when unexpected things shook my life and He showed up in a way that only He can to set everything right.

Children Are Inconvenient

2009-05-19T06:18:00.000-07:00

I know that sounds so mean, but its true. Just yesterday I was driving my girls home from school and complaining in my head about how much work children are. I hate, absolutely hate, helping with homework. My mom used to tell me that she did her "time", and I would get this mental picture of her behind bars. Child rearing is not convenient to my lifestyle at all. My car could be clean and it wouldn't be a dreaded mini van. I could buy things for myself and not feel the least bit guilty about the things I didn't buy them. I could feel like my toothbrush was safe and the sink would not have clumps of unused toothpaste in it. What about feeling like maybe once the diapers are gone, you've taught them how to do dishes, cook and clean and do their own laundry, that maybe, just maybe it will be smooth sailing. Oh no, teenagers are even more work. You have to outsmart them. I've been finding myself pulling out my entire arsenal, you know the big guns, with my two oldest. Granted they haven't even skimmed the surface of what my husband and I did at their ages, but you sure need to be able to put yourself in the place of the truant and the guard. This is the age for choosing your battles, otherwise I go around like a private eye waiting to find them in some indiscretion. Certainly not convenient at all, but God says that if I raise them right, they will turn out okay. Man, gotta put your trust in that.