Breathless

I get breathless when I think about the promises of God.

Great and precious promises. Exceedingly great and precious promises. Drink deep, and find them.

I’m originally from New Mexico, and when the horizon isn’t blocked up by a bunch of trees and hills like it is here in the piedmont of South Carolina, and when you live up by the atmosphere at 1 mile, you can see for miles in every direction. You can literally see the curvature of the earth.

And there’s more sky. Deep, blue, endless sky. Which terrifies my husband who feels like he's about to fly off into outer space with nothing to catch him.  (He grew up here in the piedmont, in a nice forest.)

And when that deep blue sky fills up with piles of deep, high, puffy white clouds, you know something is about to happen.

Because the sunsets are incredible. Those clouds turn into fire, gold and red and rose and pink and a thousand shades of vibrant that have never been named.

I flew into Albuquerque during one such sunset. And I’ve never forgotten it. The plane flew across dry mesas and dusty land, and then over the rolling hills that pile up and begin the western rocky mountain chain.  And suddenly the mountains dropped off under the plane in a sharp cliff, and we flew in to a golden, fiery, sunset. The clouds were low and covering the entire city. Rain was pouring down. And it was like flying into the heart of heaven.

Exceedingly great. Vibrantly precious. Mind-blowingly spectacular.

Words can never describe them. Those promises of God.

But we can experience them.

My husband taught on Ephesians chapter 1 the other week, and one thing he said took hold of my heart: “The most enduring promises of God are spiritual.”

Spiritual. Not physical. Because, as Peter reminds us, those exceedingly great and precious promises are given to us for one reason: “That through them you may be partakers of divine nature, having escaped the corruption that is in the world through lust.” (2 Peter 1:4)

I grew up hearing a lot about every thing wrong that I did. Someone was always available to find fault. And now, so many years later, I do it myself.

Many of those old-school theological folks had some incredible things to say. And when we stumble across them again, it’s so freeing.

A friend had posted an incredible article by Timothy Keller titled “When Sin is Grievous and Grace is Stunning.”

I took a breath in. Grace is stunning.

And I read. He had dug up some John Newton from the 18th century and modernized it like this:

“Newton gives us some deeply convicting ways to examine our hearts. Christians, he says, put too little time and effort into examining themselves and seeking to grow in holiness, in the fruit of the Spirit. But does such close examination mean that we are doomed to always feel inadequate, ashamed, and guilty? No, because Newton sees  deeper knowledge of sin leading to richer rejoicing in grace.”

Oh. Rejoicing in Grace. I've always missed that part.

There’s more:

“People often try to fill their hearts with the danger of what they are doing. You can tell yourself, If I keep doing this it will cause problems for me. That may be true and could be good "smelling salts" to get you to recognize your problem. But if that's all you say to your heart, it effectively bends the metal of your heart but doesn't really soften and permanently reshape it. The motivation is ultimately selfish and only brings short-term change.”

I started to understand. So, when I remind myself that procrastinating now will make more work for me later, that doesn't change my heart. And when I mutter in my heart that my never picks up his socks, and then remind myself that if I let that out, I'm just a dripping faucet...I keep the words in, but the bitterness too.  

And when I teach my children that they shouldn't hit or yell or say mean words because it will make them unkind adults, I'm missing the heart of the issue.

And here's what blew my mind in this article:

“We need to go deeper to the only lasting way to change our hearts—take them to the radical, costly grace of God in Christ on the cross. You show your heart the infinite depths to which he went so that you would be free from sin and its condemnation. This fills you with a sense not just of the danger or sin, but also of its grievousness. Think about how ungrateful it is, think of how your sin is not just against God's law but also against his heart. Melt your heart with the knowledge of what he's done for you. Tremble before the knowledge of what he is worth—worthy of all glory.”

A heart that melts before a God of great worth. Isn't that beautiful?

That changes things. I work now, because I have been blessed with life by the One who gave his life. 

I pick up socks after my husband, because my God is picking up after me. And forgiving me. And never muttering about my issues.

And I teach my children gentle ways and right actions because our great God first extended his love, his grace, himself, to us.

And I get breathless. Because these things are deep. 

These are exceedingly great and precious promises. 

P.s. You can listen to Jason's teaching here: http://calvaryspartanburg.com/teachings.html. Load up "Unknown Blessings" Eph. 1.

You can read the Timothy Keller article here: http://thegospelcoalition.org/blogs/tgc/2013/06/24/when-sin-is-grievous-and-grace-is-stunning/  (I am only linking to thegospelcoalition.com in order to cite this article; they don't know me and I don't know them)

Pinky Swear

Jason and I pinky-swore (can I say that? sweared?) Anyhow, we pinky-promised. And now I can't procrastinate.

I am really good at delaying the inevitable until it's not only happening, it's not fun anymore.  I've cultivated this habit from a young age. And I could call myself an expert now.

I remember in high-school, I would do my homework in class, while waiting for the bell to ring. I turned in reports with the ink still wet. 

And in college I honed my procrastination to a fine art.  Because as my husband says, you can study, sleep or socialize, but you can't do all 3.  

I majored in Journalism, for the simple reason that I am very good at meeting deadlines.  

Meeting, but not beating.

But now I'm many years past college.

I have kids. And I'm homeschooling them. And I cook all of our food from scratch because my son has food allergies. And I do some freelance work on the side to help pay the bills. 

And I still find time to procrastinate.

But I'm running out of time.

And it's sucking my joy out of life. 

And it's taking a toll on my family.  

Because my kids don't want to wear their winter clothes now that it's hot and mommy hasn't done laundry because she had to finish some things.

And we're all getting a little tired of the very dry, nasty rice bread that is the only kind I can buy because I haven't had time to make some because I had to wrap something up.

And I miss hanging out with my family on my husband's days off because I was on facebook and youtube when I should have been working, and now I have to get a bunch of stuff done.

One pastor who was a mentor in my life and my husband's life always said that if you're not having fun, you're doing something wrong. 

This time of life, when bills are high and salaries are low; when ambition competes with our desire for sleep; when children are small and we are their life; this time of life is good but hard. 

And it should be full of fun. Full of joy. Because these are building years. We can accomplish much, and God surely has much to accomplish through and in us. If only I'll work when I should work.

And I pinky-promised I would.

Mind over Matter

I've begun running again recently. I used to be a runner.   

It was my release, my freedom. It was how I unwound. 

And it was different then too. I could skip a week or three, and pick right back up, 8 mile pace, for  3 miles...no problem.

But when at age 36 I decided to run again, my body and I had a little disagreement.  After birthing two babies and adding a few years of life, my body was sure it was time to relax.  I just heard someone say that our bodies have one goal...to become mulch, and I think mine was well on the way.

So I got plugged into a running program and managed to run around the block. And then the neighborhood. And one rainy day, I even ran in a race.  

And then I gave in to my body and went back to holding the couch down for a few months. But now I'm back at it. 

Well, today I realized that I've gotten past the point of sheer effort and anguish.  Now my body is ready to go.

I was told years ago by one of my coaches that running is 85% mental.  I think he was wrong. I think it's 99% mental...give or take.

Because now I can go further, but I'm inclined to stop sooner than I should. I'm getting bored. And thirsty.  And sweaty.  I need chocolate.

Mind over matter. 

I've got a flaw. I love new things. Moving to new cities, trying new foods, starting new projects. Starting to get in shape. But then the new become routine and must be maintained. And that's where I usually start to lose momentum.

I procrastinate. 

Even with the things I love.  

James chapter 1 tells us this in verse 4: "And let endurance have its perfect result, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing."

Lacking in nothing sounds amazing. Being perfect and complete sounds like something I desire. But first I must endure in testing. 

I must persever through the mundane. I must get up, put on my running shoes, and walk out the door, and then, run. And run well.  I must build up strength.

I must let endurance have its  perfect result. 

With the small things. Like words. And attitudes. 

With the details. A job done, or a job done well with a joyful heart. 

With the great matters of eternity and my soul.  I can tag a verse of the day, or dig in deep, in study, in prayer, in worship, and grow my soul. And then water the souls around me.

Endurance. The results are worth it.

And it all starts with mind over matter.  

Bucket list

Everyone has a bucket list. Or so I've heard. In all honesty, mine currently includes having a maid come clean my house, a fairy to do my dishes, an au pair to watch the kids for a bit. 

Then, while all those good folks are working hard, I'll crawl into bed and sleep. My ambitions aren't all that big these days.

My kids have a bucket list too.  Every day as they go to bed, their dad is at work. And they ask, "Does Papa work tomorrow?"  Because their bucket list is shorter than mine. For both, there are two items. 

1. Spend time with Papa

Every Papa is a Superhero...

2. Spend time with Mama

"Mama" as taken by the kids

We've been working on their bucket list. And that's calmed down my restless drive to go somewhere on Jason's days off.  Instead, we've been planning family days at home, and peppering them with fun projects.  

Like this one from Homemade Modern.  If you love DIY, modern design and concrete, this blog is for you!  (http://homemade-modern.com/ep8-2-revisit-bucket-stool/)

So, we started our day with a trip to Lowes for Quickcrete and posts, and a trip to Nana's house for a bucket.  An hour later we were home and ready to go.

We love stirring cement. And pouring water. 

In all honesty, the kids helped measure the concrete, pour the water, stirred for a minute and then decided to dig mud holes in the front yard.  

And in all honesty we were ready to get annoyed at their lack of interest in the project, and make them keep participating. Because that's what family bonding is all about, forced interactions, right?

But we talked and decided to let it go and finished out ourselves...

Ahem...himself, that is...

Everyone cleaned up and had popsicles. And even though the kids were done about 5 minutes in, all they talked about through dinner and bed was "their stool" that "they built."

And they rushed outside to see how it was doing the next morning.  It's hard to wait 24 hours for it to cure.  

And when it came time to remove it from the bucket, all hands but Papa's (he was at work), were on deck...

Jumping Jacks

It took a bit of work to get it out of the bucket...but those tenacious kids didn't give up...

"You ride it like a horse while I pull..."

And eventually...

Ta da!

We had our stool.

And they were so proud.

Once I read that when we major on minors, it's like moths are in our lives, eating holes in the fabric that weaves our days together.  

I'm so glad we swallowed our words of frustration at the kids who weren't spending the time as we intended.  I'm glad we left the fabric of that day whole.

Because now all that's left is a beautiful memory of a fantastic day.  Together.  Two bucket lists, complete.

Til next time!

No Regression...

So, confession time. I've been noticing my jeans were a little tight. And I thought to myself, "gee, I really need to start running again, now that it's warm."

And to make myself do it, I gave myself a goal...no new jeans til I run regularly.

Well, I've managed to do just that...you know, run once or twice in the four weeks since I decided it was warm enough.  (and for all my friends in the north, I know, 50 degrees with no ice or snow is warm...)

And then I went to the doctor who had to take my weight.  Oh.  Reality check.  The one or two pounds I thought I'd gained were actually ten.  In four months.  

I'm a fairly active person, my son has food allergies, so we eat really well, and I've always been in decent shape.  Until now apparently.  

What startled me was that I hadn't changed anything. I wasn't eating more or worse or exercising less.  And this kind of gain had never happened to me before.

Here's the reality.  There comes a time in life when your regular routine will actually cause regression.  

Ouch.

It's time to change things up.

That's a picture of the chocolate chip cookies I made tonight (and yes, they're dairy free, gluten free, egg and nut free and even gluten free...). But a cookie is a cookie.

So instead of snuggling with my handsome husband on the couch, eating cookies, I went for a run. And I ran further than usual, feeling that lovely jiggle with each step.  Sigh.

Half of America has learned from that P90x guy that you gotta change things up to build up and maintain strength.

Because things change. Life changes. Our age changes. Our bodies and metabolisms and appetites change.

There are people I admire so much.  People that live life that looks the way I want my life to look. People that talk the way I want to, with so much grace and warmth and love and wisdom. People that laugh and cry and dig in. People that are strong.  

They love and serve God with a grace and fervor that I hope I have.  And when I wonder how they've managed to maintain through the kids and jobs and dogs and cookies...

The answer is always the same.  They've all gotten there by changing it up. 

And that's how I want to live...No Regression.  

Monotony...brings freedom

I just washed out my cast iron dutch oven for the third time today.  Rubbed oil in, put it in the oven to cure.  

Rubbed the oil over my dry hands.  And looked at my cleaned kitchen.  

I've cleaned it at least 4 times today. 

I don't like to.  I'd really rather be doing something else.  

But a lot happens in my kitchen.

Food. School.  Food.  Crafts. 

The kitchen is the hub of our home. And as such, it gets a workout.  And when I don't keep up with the dishes and floors and whatever else is happening, a little bit of stress and decay creep in. And they begin to take our joy.

I cook everything from scratch.  Just about.  Not because I've ever aspired to be an amazing kitchen diva (although I'd settle for a baking diva).  But because my son has a bunch of severe food allergies.  And when your kid has them, you can't buy pre-made food. I don't really like cooking meals.  But I do it. Every day.

And I make all our snacks.  And breakfast cereal. And so forth.  It's monotonous.  It's hard.  I stay home a lot because our lives revolve around my cooking schedule.  

I've learned a lot about food.  And cooking.  

I would have never chosen this for my son or our family.  It's really hard sometimes.

But the monotony has brought freedom into our lives.  

I'm learning how to be content at home.  Caring for my family.  

We do less, and enjoy each other more. 

And there are little joys like helping other families as they learn to negotiate life with food allergies.

I've always heard that discipline brings freedom.  And I'm learning that it's hard to be disciplined.  But I love the freedom of tasks completed and not waiting; of food ready to nourish; of a family whole and healthy and strong because of the long road of sameness; I could call it monotony.  

But I think I'll own it and name it freedom.  

Sunbutter turkey wraps

GF, Egg free, dairy free, nut free cinnamon rolls!

Taught my husband how to make gravy...

School!

   

Fruit Flies....

I have fruit flies in my kitchen.

And one or two in the far back bathroom.

And one that likes to sit on the tv screen, right in the middle, no matter how many times I shoo him away.

I have spent a week trying to eradicate them.  I moved the compost bin outside to freeze.  I put all ripening fruit in the fridge.  I've washed and scrubbed everything I can think of.  

And still, every morning, fruit flies.  By the dozen.

They're making me feel a little bit crazy. I keep thinking there's some amazing thing that I am completely overlooking that will get rid of them.  

Nothing has turned up on Google yet.

And it makes me think.

My life has some fruit flies. Flaws.  Habits.  Issues.  Things that don't seem to change, no matter what I move or scrub.

They make me feel a little bit crazy.

I want an instant cure.  Some magical solution that will rub them out.  

I've been touring Ephesians lately. Chapter 4 in the New Living says this:

"Since you have heard about Jesus and learned about the truth that comes from Him, throw off your old sinful nature and your former way of life which is corrupted by lust and deception. Instead let the Spirit renew your thoughts and attitudes.  Put on your new nature, created to be like God--truly righteous and holy."  (v. 22-24)

Ok...there it is.  Throw off the old. Put on the new.  

How?  Let the Spirit.  

It almost sounds magical.  Ethereal.  How does that happen?  Well, v. 25 has some ideas: Stop telling lies... and v. 26...and don't sin by letting anger control you.  v. 28. If you are a thief, quit stealing.  Instead use your hands to do good. 

And so forth.

Step 1. Throw Off.  How?  By doing different things.  

Step 2. Let the Spirit renew your thoughts, your attitudes.

So a bit of elbow grease, and a lot of the Spirit.  

Getting rid of fruit flies in our lives takes more than a magic eraser.  

The difference is, the elbow grease required for a life change comes complete with the help of the God who keeps the universe in better order than I can keep my kitchen.  

That means that the fruit flies in my kitchen have a better chance of lasting than the flaws, habits and issues of my heart.  

And this is what I'm writing down and tucking in my pocket today: 

"Who will free me from this life that is dominated by sin and death? Thank God! The answer is in Jesus Christ our Lord... and because you belong to Him, the power of the life-giving Spirit has freed you from the power of sin that leads to death." Romans 7:24, 25- 8:1 NLT

Goodbye fruit flies!

P.S. I completely chopped up the Romans scripture...look it up! Chapter 7 is amazing!