"Where is your faith?"

Our Sunday afternoon was interrupted by another trip into town.  I had no plans and left the decision of "what to do" to my husband.  As we were driving, I got to thinking.  REALLY thinking about faith.  About how I apply faith in my life, and pondering the mystery of how it really came to be that way for me.

Recently we joined a new church, and in doing so our Pastor had us take a survey to help determine what our spiritual gifts are.  I was surprised at my results.  Faith.  I was able to trust highly in something that I couldn't touch, or see.

My journey has been a long one.  It has been chapter after chapter of big events and small works.  It has been spurred on by heart wrenching trials and many celebrations.  But here.  Now.  Another Monday, I sit and read the words of Luke 8:22-25 and am reminded not even 24 hours later about my "faith".

If I had my own photo, I would most certainly use it.  But I don't. More on that to come.  But Google Images provides a great way to put many visuals to a few words.  "SQUALL and BOAT" gives us many choices.  Most images were large ships and big oceans.  But when Jesus calms the storm, I always imagine the boat not a rowboat, but definitely not a sailing ship.  I imagine a boat being easily tossed and lurched and swayed.

http://blueeyedennis-siempre.blogspot.com/2011/01/saturday-third-week-ordinary-time-29th.html

One day Jesus said to his disciples, "Lets go over to the other side of the lake."  So they got into a boat and set out,  As they sailed, he fell asleep.  A squall came down on the lake, so that the boat was being swamped, and they were in great danger.  

The disciples went and woke him, saying, "Master, Master, we are going to drown!"

He got up and rebuked the wind and the raging waters; 

the storm subsided, and all was calm.  

"Where is your faith?" he asked his disciples.

In fear and amazement they asked one another, "Who is this? He commands even the winds and the water, and they obey him."

Luke 8: 22-25 NIV

Can you imagine?  I have a thing about water.  Rivers, mostly.  Their great unseen moving power gives me the shivereeeees and makes my heart beat really fast.  Add a hydraulic dam to the picture and i'm ridden with fear. (This is probably why I'm not able to provide my own photo!!!)  But as I read these words and put myself in this situation, I know that I probably would have been curled in the fetal position, squeezed under anything that would provide me the least bit of protection.  I would be gasping for breath, to weak to even wake the teacher.   

Apart from the power behind and in water, I can honestly say, that I have little fear in life.  Perhaps this is why my faith, my trust in the mighty power that guides our lives, is so great (but not great enough, may I add, to face a storm as as such).  But how about you?  Could you draw a list of more than one thing you fear?  More than five? Ten?  How has your list of fears changed in experiencing life?  What or where do you put your faith? And how, dear friends, do you cope when you are ridden with fear? 

I think back to when I was young, a child.  I was afraid of the unknown of our creepy basement. I was kept awake at night by the thoughts of a house fire, or a bar-time wanderer taking a short-cut through our city yard.  Even in college, I was terrified- TERRIFIED of the dark woods surrounding my now-husband's home.  Slowly, these have melted away, as my faith has been tested, tried, and strengthened.

Where is our faith in these situations?  Where is faith when thinking about our health, the safety of our children, or the stock market?  So what draws us in to fear?  And what is stopping us from drawing from faith instead? 

When is the last time you experienced a great joy?  A moment that you knew was beyond you?  For those of you who have read my other posts... a recent moment for me revolved around a dishwasher.  Another moment for me was when my son and baby and I were protected and spared a few months ago... cars and semi trucks where bumping and slipping and crashing all around us, and we were unscathed.  A moment that clearly my faith and fears were challenging one another!  But this moment was beyond me.  What about the birth of a child?  Or a moment of confirmation during a time of trial, inquiry, or worship?  What joys have been beyond YOU?

The day is unfolding before each and everyone of us.  I remind my children, daily, that we have a choice.  We have a choice to cloud our minds and pout over "stinkin' thinkin' ", or to choose to be loving, thoughtful and kind.  If you read nothing else today, let this one thing settle in your heart and mind, for that is what prompted me to write this morning.  It is this: Let your faith overide your fear.  Give it a chance.  Let it go out before you, under you, above you.  Journal your joys and your fears.  Friends, when we give way and let the faith that rebukes winds and raging waters, and hold loosely to fear we will experience God's gentleness and faithfulness, His protection, provision and love in, what I believe, ALL situations.

...let us draw near to God with a sincere heart in full assurance of faith...

Hebrews 10:22

***I would love to hear from you today.  How have these questions challenged you?  Please share in the comments section about your perspective of faith and fear.  Lastly, I want to share that I'm just a mom on a journey of my own.  I love to read these old translated words and apply them in my life.  I'm no expert, and perhaps I might even speak of things out of context.  But that is the beauty of the living, active words- they speak to us all in different moments and different ways.  Above all else, I want to be a source of encouragement through my transparent faith-filled life.  Now let the comments roll!!!!***

Throwing Snowballs

We are all guilty of it to some degree.  Some more than others, but who am I to compare?  I'm guilty.  I'm guilty of missing moments that shouldn't be missed.  I'm guilty of putting housework and text messages before staring into the eyes of my baby for more than a minute.  I'm guilty of not taking time to throw snowballs.

My sleep last night was not sound, and I woke up this morning feeling that throbbing pain in my right sinus cavity.  My body was a bit achey, and when I stood upright I groaned out loud.  Then and there I decided the girls would ride the bus because I knew I would want to crawl back into bed and rest.  My oldest scolded me for being mean.  My middle child thrashed at the thought of having to get up.  I cringed at having to brave the cold with body aches if they missed the bus.  My determination to push MY agenda came across as "mean".  And I was guilty.

Because of my insistency that they hurry hurry, they were dressed and ready 15 minutes before the bus was even coming around the corner.  So I pulled my 6 year old up on the couch next to me and we spent a few minutes talking about how the definition of love really is many different characteristics.  The verse today is the famous 1 Corinthians 13:4 "Love is patient, love is kind..." I apologized for being "mean" and we exchanged a few more ideas on love, and being thoughtful before they ran out to wait in the cold.

And I did.  I did crawl back into bed. My son was still sleeping and I was expecting to hear the marching of his awake feet before I even felt the warmth of my favorite fleece blanket around me, but he slept.  He slept much much longer than usual.  It was just the baby and I, wrapped in that warm fleece.  She was wide awake and content to be near me.  I was really feeling yucky, but laying there and looking at her.  The way she would turn her head almost as if she was shy but then find my eyes again and smile with her whole body melted my aches away.  My son eventually did find us, and we loved on our baby until the morning hunger pains pulled me out of bed once more.  I left the dishes in the sink, quick cleared the counters and back to bed we went.  I spent the next two hours just there.  Not sleeping, or wishing something different.  I spent that time watching my baby smile, anticipating a laugh, and singing a familiar Sara Groves melody over and over and over.  

I eventually looked at the clock, and began thinking about what I'd fix for our early lunch.  The three of us (Son, baby, and I) would take a short walk around noon.  All morning I was wondering if I'd have to excuse myself from an afternoon gathering, but my rest time and a hearty lunch gave me just the strength I was hoping for.  

We headed out for our short walk, and though the ground was snow covered, the sun felt so warm on my face.  I am also guilty for hibernating in the winter.  But I will not get started on that just now.  That feeling of winter sun, you know, the kind when you tilt your head back and let your lids fall, and then- only then, can you begin to feel it warm your cheeks.  Thats the kind I felt today.  Then I felt the small pang of guilt once again.  Why on earth would I with hold such a luxury from myself just because I find the combination winter gear and whiny children so challenging that I give way to hibernation!?!  

On our way back home, my son got to kicking the snowbanks alongside the road.  The snowplow left a perfect mini mound of snowballs- the kind that a 4 year old boy cannot resist kicking.  So as we approached the intersection on these country roads, he just stopped moving forward, and began picking up the ice chunks and throwing them down the ditch.  After a few minutes he began to backtrack, because there were no "good ones" left to throw.  I was kicking at the bank loosening up chunks for him to throw, and we both watched as he launched them and they crashed through the branches.  He was so happy.  So content to be throwing snowballs.  In that moment, I looked back at where I had been so far that day.  How I awoke thinking only of myself, and then gently reminded to spend a few extra minutes giving my middle child what she loved best.  How I crawled back into bed and instead of allowing frustration that I couldn't sleep sink deep into my bones, I was rejuvenated by a baby's smile and a familiar melody.  In that moment of watching my son throw snowballs, I was reminded again that it isn't about me.  Why does becoming a mother steal away that childlike wonder?  Why does being a grown up mean snow is only cold?  Thats it- just coldness.  Not a medium for the coolest fort on the block.  Why must we always hurry hurry?

I pulled out my phone and captured on video how he threw his entire body to loosening a chunk of snow, only to throw it down the ditch, and I was reminded that yes- I am guilty of being selfish.  Emptying myself is a daily discipline, not a one time task.  But at the same time, I was also grateful- so extremely grateful that I had three moments already that day where time seemed to stand still and I could recognize the worth of those moments.  Where I was able to pour into a tired body before the bus swept her away for a busy day.  Where I was able to lay in bed and feel my pains melt, see this baby thrive.  Where I was able to kick at the snow and realize my agenda HAS to allow more of these moments.  If I had taken him by the hand, and pulled him through the intersection, I would not have had that moment to observe his wonder, and to truly receive the blessing of allowing more love, more margin and less of me.

Like a Big Fat Monday

I've always loved mondays.  Well, I guess not always.  Let me rephrase that.  Now that I'm an adult I love Mondays. There is something about a clean slate.  New opportunities, chances to do things right.  Chances to do things better.  There is a new week ahead to seek, and to find.  To uncover parts of the bigger plan, and to reflect on how far I've come.  However, today was not Monday.  Today was the first day of a new year.

The last four years or so I get excited about New Year's Eve.  I gave up long ago trying to plan a night on the town, or a nice meal out.  Its a good thing too, because now I enjoy nothing more than getting cozy with the ones I love and talking about "the list" or goals or dreams.  No two years have ever been the same.  Sometimes we ring in the new year with dear friends, and other years (like last night) everyone is tucked in bed while me and the baby wait out the second wind, and listen to sisters slip and slide with their 'footies' on in the other end of the house... hoping that they don't wake our tired guests.

But this year I did something different.  I did something with even more intent.  I didn't just pull goals out of the clear-blue-ten-degree-below-zero-sky.  I took an entire afternoon to reflect on the last year along with my husband and our brand spanking new wood burning stove.  It. Was. Delightful.  It was like a big fat Monday- the first day of a whole new year ahead.  We finished, and I gathered my shopping list and headed to the store.  In my rare alone-time shopping I found myself giddy knowing that it was an afternoon REALLY well spent, and I was excited to get started, to welcome 2013 with open arms and no fear.  I realized I had never taken ANY time to reflect on the year behind in order to prepare for the year ahead.  I realized that the goals I had loosely chosen before this time of reflection were spot-on, and I couldn't wait to get started.  I uncovered some truths, and some answers to some useless anxieties I've been experiencing.  I learned that when we press into our anxiety and seek answers, the anxiety melts into a clear answer with confidence to try something new.  I learned that when we draw our strength from Him, we really can move mountains.  I learned that being completely transparent with your spouse uncovers profound statements that prepare our hearts and minds for what is to come.

So this big fat "Monday" is drawing to a close.  The rise and fall of baby's breath is at my side, and the sound of a passing car on the highway reminds me that life continues.  That I have the privilege of living this life.  I have the choice to walk in obedience with excitement, or I have the choice to walk with only determination to do things my way.  The two paths will not end at the same destination, and I only have interest to walk in obedience.  But today is the first day of the year.  A big fat "Monday" that has me ready to dig deeper, relish longer, listen more closely, surrender more fully, and look up always.

Will you join me in falling in love with Mondays?  You have a whole new year ahead (and 52 Mondays!).  What do you think He will have you do THIS year?  I can't wait to hear...

Do you need some help reflecting on 2012?  Its not too late!  Click here to download the questions that we reviewed this afternoon.

Landscape

Last week at my bible study, our teacher reminded us that God has given us everything we need for this life.  He has shaped us and planted in us the character that we need to fulfill the plan that he created us for.  However, we need to leave sin behind us.

I wasn't even out of the parking lot before I sent my husband a text message to share with him the simplicity of this matter.  So often we STRIVE (and i really hate that concept) to be better.  Better planners, better super moms, better doctors, better everything.  But FIRST we MUST evaluate what our sin patterns are.  When those are stripped away the true person that God made is beautifully revealed.  Did you catch that?  It isn't that we shouldn't become better, but it is in the way that we accomplish improvement that makes a big difference:  In our own will, or the opening of our hands, the surrendering of our will.  In the throwing away.

This simple message hit me so hard, because there are many days when I know I need to better.  Take this last weekend for example.  Over the course of Saturday and Sunday I had loaded and unloaded all of my children at 4 different establishments that make a point to sell food to consumers.  Now it was beyond my control that the specific ingredients I was shopping for were unavailable due to their popularity on that particular day.  So now, here it is, Monday morning.  I'm "supposed" to have a plan for the week of what to feed my family, and I don't.  The anxiety and frazzeledness of feeling like I'm not in control still looms before the sun is even up.  And I'm stressing about it.  It is really stupid, I know.  So when i flipped open to James this morning and read the following passage, I was ever so quickly reminded of what our teacher told us this last week.

James 1:19 (the Message)
So throw away all spoiled virtue and cancerous evil in the garbage.  In simple humility, let our gardener, God, landscape you with the Word, making a salvation garden of your life.

Let our gardener, God, landscape you with the word, making a salvation garden of your life.

I love words.  I love the images that come into my mind as adjectives move and change the visuals behind my eyes.  And this verse is no exception.  Did you hear it in there?  Did you SEE it?  What does it look like for you to throw sin into the garbage and be landscaped?  I know what is going into the garbage today: trying to do it all, and the lie that I'm not enough.  And already, I'm seeing something beautiful.

The NIV says the same verse a bit different, of course:
Therefore, get rid of all moral filth and the evil that is so prevalent and humbly accept the word planted in you, which can save you.

I'd like to point out that there is a different tense used in each verse.  The message says "landscape", which I take as work to be done.  The NIV says "planted", which i take as work yet to be accomplished.  But aren't both truth?

What is planted in you?  While knowing that, what lies, deceit and sin need to be PURPOSEFULLY placed into the garbage?  Let God work on you today.  He has made you so beautiful.  A garden is is in the process, all you need to do is rake up the old rubbish.

God Really Does Care About Dishwashers

It all started a year ago.

Well really, my story begins many more years ago.  As does yours.  But I must pick up somewhere, and this is where I begin: with the dishwasher.

It was December 1st, 2011.  My husband and three children picked me up from the airport.  I had just spent an entire month overseas.  Zimbabwe.  AH... yet another story.  Anyhow.  My husband brought me home to a new home.  While I was away, he had moved us into a new house that we closed on literally the day before I left for Zim.  It was a foreclosure home, and needed much work.  We had big plans.  But the top priority was new flooring, check.  Reposition the basement staircase, check.  And appliances, check.

So with a blindfold, I entered into my new home, starting in the kitchen.  I opened my eyes and with my husband in full beam behind me, I laid eyes on the most beautiful set of matching used kitchen appliances: Gas stove and dishwasher, glimmering stainless steel.  We had purchased the refrigerator before I left, so that was set.  My husband was so excited to show these to me, because they all matched.  Same steel, same brand, everything.  Craigslist had provided a sweet deal, once again.

Washing dishes is my least favorite household task.  I've come to embrace it out of necessity, but I really would rather scrub a toilet or organize a bookshelf.  Seriously.  We have moved every two years for some time, and with our growing family I've always had one "no budge" piece of criteria in our home: Must. Have. Dishwasher.  Well in this case, my husband went out of his way to pay extra for matching, ripping out the dishwasher that was left in the house, to provide me with one that was "extra good".  One problem: it didn't work.  Now, my husband worked his tail off while I was gone... He didn't even have kids to look over- just his chiropractic practice.  Once I arrived, he made the house livable and we've been pounding away little by little ever since.  I should really say "he" not "we".

So this beautiful dishwasher, all shiny and "new", it even came with a few nice spatulas and sippy cups left over inside!  Ah! Bonus!  So the cupboards flung open, the dishwasher shimmied into its perfect little spot... and the hoses don't fit.  At least two trips to Menards and many hose clamps later, it still didn't work.  I went for four months with out a dishwasher.  I didn't complain, but on that day that the appliance repair man left in his aqua colored Dodge truck, I jumped for joy!  I proclaimed that He was my new best friend!  I couldn't wait to load it up, and press START.

So it hummed along and washed dishes for a few loads, and thats when the mold came.  The heating element had burst before we even purchased the dishwasher.  The dishes where getting washed while the dishwasher was getting nasty.

So why am I on this seemingly pointless tyrade about dishes?  Oh just wait.  I started a blog because of this story, so you must read on to the end.

The heating element was bought and paid for at SEARS.com, and now we have paid more in repairs than we did for the machine.  It took a few months for the element to be installed, but once it was the inside was scrubbed down and again, I was on cloud nine because of this modern day convenience.

Then we began to smell it.  Something hot.  Then... nothing.  No lights on the front panel. No hum, no swishing and circulating water.  Nothing.  Much to my surprise, dishwashers are hard wired, so my husband did sort of chuckle when I was riding on the hope that it had just become unplugged.  Nope.

So yesterday, my husband was in fix it mode.  With a big grin on his face he said, "Lets just say a little prayer that this thing will work."

"Dear God" I said, "Please let the dishwasher work.  Amen."

We both laughed, and then I said "I don't think God cares about dishwashers. (Long thinking pause)  But then again... he cares about spice funnels (another story)."

"He cares about US." my husband replied.

So I sat nursing the baby, and I still don't know the diagnosis, other than it it still doesn't work.

I saw I had missed a call from a friend.  So after a few more story books with my son, I dialed her up and left her a voicemail.

A bit later, around lunch, she called back.  She wanted to ask me if I needed any help.  She had known that my dishwasher broke, and she stated that she loves doing dishes.  She wanted to offer a hand, and had about an hour to give.  I have a seven week old baby... and this is what us 'sisters' do.  We help.  She is an amazing woman who gives to so many people.  She gives her time and talents.  I was humbled.  I didn't want to accept the offer.  Sometimes us ladies can be territorial over our kitchens.  It might be that we don't want others to even catch a glimpse of our mess; thinking that they will judge us.  It might be that we only wash dishes in a certain way.  Or, it might just be that we don't know how to accept help.  We think we need to be wonder-moms and do it all ourselves.  I've been working to dispel this "do it all perfectly" mentality.  With gusto and giggles I replied, "Yes.  I would love your help.".

As she was asking to come wash my dishes, I couldn't contain the giggle.  I couldn't believe it.  God heard my somewhat snide remark.  I didn't say it to be sarcastic, I just don't usually find myself praying over a dishwasher.  The fact that this all came together in one morning, within a few hours just reminds me how our amazing God is right with us every step of the way.  He really does care about dishwashers.  So much so, that he sends them not only in human form, but in the form of a dear sister willing and ready to serve.