Caffeinated Randomness 03/05/2010
 On Spiritual Activity SonShines, I just have to share a passage I read last night from The Me I Want To Be. John Ortberg addresses a very real struggle so many of us face with feelings of guilt and obligation in regards to our spiritual activities. Mothers, teachers, coaches, mentors, ministry leaders, writers, nurses, doctors, and any number of nurturing roles such as these all share another common bond. We often feel that we are less than devout when we can't set aside an hour here or two there for deep quiet in the presence of our Lord. I'd even venture to say that some of us beat ourselves up about not having the heart that another sister or brother might have for waking up before the sun in order to ensure that quiet soaking in God's glory. Here's what Ortberg says on the matter, take it to heart and take it with you in all of life's moments! "Comparison kills spiritual growth. A mother with three preschool-age children hears her pastor talk about loving God so much that he is up very early every morning to spend an hour of quiet with him. She would love an hour of quiet at any time, but her children simply will not cooperate. What she takes away is that she ought to be doing the same thing, and so she does spirituality by comparison, living under the cloud of guilt. It never occurs to her that the love she expresses to her children might "count" as a spiritual activity." The love you express as you nurture from within the love of Christ is a spiritual activity! Taking Jesus by the hand and introducing every moment, every interaction, every person you encounter to the Truth, the Life and the Way is the very sort of living in the Presence that we must all strive for...not an hour each morning, but a way of living! Keep up The Good Work! ***I want to just add a little note here to be sure to encourage everyone to start your day with Jesus no matter what time that day may begin. I know how much more freely I receive the ongoing direction of the Lord when I've made a point to spend even just 5-10 minutes just kicking it with Christ! Please don't leave here thinking you should leave that time behind! Instead, know that it's the spirit of simply delighting in the presence of God that should drive you to your knees first thing in the morning, not a comparison to what another Christian's morning walk may consist of.*** {added after publishing} On Lamentations I am so looking forward to our time exploring this section of God's Word! I'm just as eager to share the journey with you as I am to get to the other side with a bit more knowledge, wisdom, and security in Christ Jesus! We are in for some deep conversation, some solid soul searching, and some serious laughter, I'm sure! I hope you'll come by Monday as we kick things off in the newest seven days adventure! Everyone who participates in the full seven days will be entered to win a special little something that I'll be revealing soon! {hint::it's wired, it's whimsical, it's bound to be gorgeous} On Compliments I Can't Deny Each of you dear readers who reached out in love to nominate this blog as one of your favorites, I just want you to know that your compliment is one I won't ever attempt to disprove! Our heavenly Father is at the very root of each word I share here and it is His glory and my honor to be among the top 10 daily reads, and the top 100 Christian Women's Blogs of 2009! I'll save the Oscar-esque speech and waterworks, but to say thank you just doesn't fit the bill. I'm touched and honored and humbled and fueled and rambling in true caffeinated randomness fashion!  {Head over to read from the other 99+ awesome ladies writing for Christ!}  I Didn't Get the Memo 01/28/2010
Sometimes, it really is all in the details. I knew going into this whole obedience thing, that one day God would ask me to share more than the already less than comfy surface testimony He is working out in my life. One day was supposed to be blurry. So far in the future that I couldn't even see it clearly. Turns out one day is today. Today is one day, possible of many, that I would be asked to share the details. God equips us for every good work. That's a fact. Nowhere in that promise does He say that we'll be prepared or even alerted. Good thing, because had I known what He had planned, I might have stayed home and hidden from the opportunity to do good. All difficult situations are opportunities to do good, but having a heads up brings with it the possibility of running away. Thankfully, I didn't get the memo that today was going to hold an opportunity I would have undoubtedly passed up. A cup I would have prayed God to let pass, instead of overflow. Sitting at a table made to seat seven women in my moms' group, I felt like a complete reject among the empty chairs. Stepping into this role of table hostess in a ministry I love dearly wasn't a comfortable act of obedience as it was, but when only two ladies sat with me, I felt like I was the reason people stayed away. Even when you're beating yourself up, thinking of yourself too much is thinking too much of yourself. I know that. I just forget that I know that. Content in my pity party, balloons and all, I wondered what it was about me that kept them away. It wasn't about me. Big shocker there. No, it was God that arranged the seating today. He just didn't need to let me know that until I could handle it with praise. As I drove home, reflecting on one awesome speaker and one awesome time of discussion, the Lord revealed part of His plan and part of His awesomeness in Sovereignty. Each of the ladies at my table were predestined to sit together, to share together, to be encouraged together. All three of us. Three seemed like such a small number at first glance. Now I am amazed at how our God worked in, on, and through THREE women at one tiny table, this morning! We each needed to hear that God is in control. In our own ways, we needed that covering of Truth. We also needed the details that lie underneath. Sharing first, the overall way that Christ has been at work, then getting deeper into the ways we need to stop our own ideas of what needs to be worked on, things felt really fruitful and wonderful. The intimate setting allowed for digging into matters and for opening up those hidden parts that want to be ignored in us. It also made way for a very personal exchange after the group had dismissed. Today, I shared some details. Details that once held me prisoner and now are part of the beautiful way in which the Lord saw fit to set me free. I'm humbled that they helped another sister in Christ. She was visibly encouraged in a way that encouraged me, but our Father didn't stop there! Her details were offered up as a means of growing me and filling me and refueling me in one of the areas of life I struggle with most right now. I left with a new gratitude and appreciation for the circumstance I'm so quick to feel defeated by. Hope pumped through each bit of me and I would have missed that had we not shared with one another. God didn't send us the memo that today was in fact that one day we'd been secretly hoping might never come and instead He sent us a good and perfect gift in the details of our less than perfect lives! What's In Your Coffee? 01/26/2010
 Curled up in my bed, laptop and coffee in hand, God decided it was time to drop some knowledge on me. There, swimming around in my cold coffee, I found a bit of wisdom and a rabbit trail of thought waiting for me. Just as I sunk into coziness, I went to sip said coffee and realized that a touch up just wouldn't do. If you follow me on twitter, you might have read this seemingly random bit I posted. At some point you've gotta stop touching up your coffee and just pour a new cup. I think my coffee is hinting at something... It seemed random to me, too, at first. I never seem to recognize the work of the Lord right away. As I resolved to roll out of bed for the refill, I realized what the Lord had splashed into my sad little cup of something that started out so good. I mean, Dunkin Donuts Breakfast Blend with a splash of Cinnamon Bun creamer--so divine. Cold Dunkin Donuts Breakfast Blend with a splash of Cinnamon Bun creamer, not so much. It was clear that a touch up just wouldn't do any good that would last to the last drop. In that moment, God found a way to make my coffee truly Divine. Hinting at the frustrations I've been coming up against in my writing and in my life, the Lord was calling me to stop trying to top things off and hope the band-aid makes things all better. As a sweet sister in Christ put it, "God wants us to give up what we already have so He can give us something fresh.. and abundant". Wow. Here, I just thought I was going to hide in bed and continue feeling invisible and frustrated. I don't know what it all means just yet, but clearly my Father wants me to stop primping and adding and pruning and shuffling and topping off the ways I minister and mingle and meander in this world. He's telling me to stop assuming what I have will get better if I just add more to it. Another cup of coffee just as scrumptious as the one before it is what I need to be reaching for! What is our Lord handing you today? Reuniting with My Father 01/22/2010
 Insanely picture perfect photo, isn't it? My favorite snapshot of my parents, hands down. Of course, I only have a handful to choose from, being as they separated when I was five or so. As a young girl, such moments worth capturing in time were my only glimpses of their marriage, which made it all the more difficult to understand why they didn't make it. It wasn't until shortly after my sixteenth birthday that it finally became real for me. Somewhere between my mother's misery and my father's absence and continued profession of love for my mother, I connected imaginary dots that pointed to a reunion. I can remember riding in the backseat of various cars, at various times, my eyes fixed on the sky. My dad, arms opened wide, was waiting for me in a continual fantasy just beyond the clouds. I would stare through the blue and fluffy white until I found him. We'd smile so big that our cheeks hurt and as he knelt on one knee, I'd run to him just as fast as I could. Lifting me in the air, we'd spin and grin and then hug a hug filled with all the love we had. Of course, there came a day when that dream faded and in its place grew Parent Trap-esque notions of how to heal this broken marriage--this broken home. It was surely a simple misunderstanding or an issue of pride and would all be swept away if I just tried hard enough. When I discovered that my parents had never gone through with an actual divorce, I was convinced they were deeply in love and that I could convince them of the same. I was in sixth grade then and had not heard from my father in months. Months became years and the dream didn't fade. Seeing the loving relationships between childhood friends and their daddies made it all the more worth hanging onto. With my father no where to be found and my mother down for the count emotionally, I found love where I could. Innocently enough, love from the parents of a best friend helped for many years. There were two families, in particular, that took me in and loved me to bits and saw something worth loving in me. Church and chores and dinners together and I was loved. For a few years, this kept me feeling worthwhile and special.  After not hearing from my father in five years, he called us shortly after my sixteenth birthday. On his own birthday. That day, my imaginary father died. My hope for family died. As an adult, I've learned the details of their split and I get it. I get the defeat. I get the struggle. I get the misery. I get the bitter resentment. I get the bridges lying in ashy ruins. I get it. What I don't get is how all of that mattered more than the four children they shared. I will never get that. My marriage has survived some ridiculous hardships, not dissimilar from the ones that plagued my parents. I'm not still married simply because I don't give up. No, my marriage is still going because God asks me to give it over and I do. I've stopped wondering why they didn't give their marriage to God, I get that, too. Instead I'm just so thankful to be spared that hopelessness. I give it all over to my real and true and trusted and faithful Father. The one that sent His only Son to save me from despair. To make me special and love me. To meet with me in the sky and spin me round and hug me with all of His might. To wipe away my tears and the heartache of a girl broken by a broken home and mended by the Living God! You are Christ's body, that's who you are! 01/21/2010
It's so funny what we do as children. I was in the 5th grade and preparing for a paper that I had to write on what I wanted to be when I grew up. I hate that. The pressure on children to decide their entire lives is just a waste of youth and it distracts from the fact that it is God who calls us to what we'll be. Being a mix between a free spirit and a perfectionist, this was really stressing me out. I was 11, I had no clue what I wanted to do with my life other than love God and do good things. As the deadline approached, I prayed to God for the answer to that all too big question. I asked Him what I should be when I grew up and I heard Him say that I should be a doctor. From that day on, I was going to go to Duke University and be a doctor. Well, as I grew older in years I lost sight of God and soon I was 16 and in college with 2 jobs and no faith to keep me going. After my aunt died, I had a breakdown of sorts and fast forward a couple of years and I was 18 and pregnant. What could have been disastrous was a miracle and I've been an at home mother since. I've never looked back and wished I had ended up being a doctor, but I've always wanted to have followed God's calling. A few years ago I took a spiritual gifts assessment test and was actually surprised to see teaching was my strongest gift. I truly expected to see healing due to that moment with God, but teaching was the strongest by a landslide and I started to connect some dots. As far back as I can remember, I've been teaching of God's glory and on nonspiritual levels, as well. I've been a peer mediator and a tutor. I've led Bible classes for younger children and as a mother, my entire life is about teaching. I've been told time and again that I have a natural way with words that teaches people on a level they can grasp. Looking back, I see that knack for teaching is really a gift from above, just like all things good and perfect. It's a recurrent theme for a reason. I'm being called to teach on a broader level. We're all being called for something. But what does that mean for the moment when God spoke to me? Well, that's the best part of my story! I discovered that in biblical times the word for "doctor" referred to those who were Spiritual teachers! I'm just now beginning to embrace this spiritual destiny of mine, and I can't wait to fully live by my belief that God wants to act as a teacher through me. I've been taking baby steps, but I'm ready to leap and not worry about the confines of this world. The restrictions, the necessities, or the chance of failure. What are they when up against God? Have you found your place in the body of Christ? Have you opened the gift you were naturally given by the Spirit? Have you answered His call? 1 Corinthians 12:27-30 paints the perfect picture of how we are each wonderfully made, and why we aren't all wired exactly the same. You are Christ's body—that's who you are! You must never forget this. Only as you accept your part of that body does your "part" mean anything. You're familiar with some of the parts that God has formed in his church, which is his "body": apostles prophets teachers miracle workers healers helpers organizers those who pray in tongues. But it's obvious by now, isn't it, that Christ's church is a complete Body and not a gigantic, unidimensional Part? It's not all Apostle, not all Prophet, not all Miracle Worker, not all Healer, not all Prayer in Tongues, not all Interpreter of Tongues. I hope you'll take a closer look at your own God-given talents, and share some time with Him in prayer to find the pattern that points to what He is asking you to do with this life. I'm praying for your journey! Way Back When{sday} :: But the Waves 01/20/2010
 What have I left But the waves of doubt of guilt of remorse How fitting now Since you left so coldly so unmistakably so readily I'm alone again Without you without a will without a friend But the waves the waves call to me the waves reach for me the waves cover me and carry me home I wrote that four years ago. Most days, the pain is mercifully kept at bay. We have such a loving Father, to heal us that way. Sexual, emotional, physical, mental, verbal--abuse tears at the spirit. Broken to bits over the years and miraculously put together again. Once, I found peace in the fact that I wouldn't live forever. Now my peace lies in the eternal life given me in Christ. Way back when my heart was breaking, it wasn't my life I considered taking. God had a plan for me, way back when the world began, that He's fulfilling. God has a plan for you, and He can fill you, too! Don't take my word for it; take His! "In Christ we have also obtained an inheritance, having been destined according to the purpose of him who accomplishes all things according to his counsel and will, so that we, who were the first to set our hope on Christ, might live for the praise of his glory. In him you also, when you had heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation, and had believed in him, were marked with the seal of the promised Holy Spirit; this is the pledge of our inheritance toward redemption as God's own people, to the praise of his glory" (Ephesians 1:11-14 NRSV). self, serpents and orbs...oh my. 01/19/2010
 ...and lemons, too... I've been thinking about our sin nature this morning. More specifically, our ease in despair. Or at least my own effortless decline into doom and gloom. For a girl who has eternal hope in her Savior, I sure can sink into self-fulfilled hopelessness. Self-involved. Self-centered. Self-entitled. Self-loathing. Self.ish.ness. I suppose that's really what being so fixated on oneself is at the root. Being all about self doesn't allow much room for hope. I get it--spiritually, logically--I get it. Now, if my heart and mind could only send my silly flesh the memo... As I sat sipping my room temp coffee, every harsh word ever spoken to me seemed to swim around my mind in some sort of violent current, ripping at my very soul. Ripping at, never out. The enemy just isn't that strong, and he only gets weaker with each moment we stand in the presence of our almighty God. Still, how can something so powerless have so much power over me? Over us? At first, that question repeated among the daggers of deflation that would have me reduced to a heap if I let them. It was more a statement of surrender than an actual question, truth be told. The Holy Spirit, He has come to dwell in me {and in you, sweet sister} for many reasons. As my declaration of defeat echoed in my head, the Spirit spoke out to prove my self wrong about sin. and righteousness. and judgment. "And when he comes, he will prove the world wrong about sin and righteousness and judgment: about sin, because they do not believe in me; about righteousness, because I am going to the Father and you will see me no longer; about judgment, because the ruler of this world has been condemned" (John 16:8-11, NRSV). Suddenly, I began to actually ask myself how something so powerless could have such power over me. Over us. I saw a serpentine covering wrap itself tightly around my entire person. Twisting and constricting and holding every bit of goodness trapped inside. Every righteous desire, bound by this serpentine flesh concoction that had replaced my skin. My claustrophobia began to kick in, my heart began to race in its place, and my palms began to sweat. Before my automated response to such binding {even socks make me nervous} had a chance to move past the beginning stages, I saw something else. A light began to shine from inside the flesh that would squeeze the life out of me. This solid orb of growing brilliance shone so intensely that the serpentine covering couldn't keep it under wraps. The Holy Spirit can't be kept under wraps, sweet sister! "For God has done what the law, weakened by the flesh, could not do: by sending his own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh, and to deal with sin, he condemned sin in the flesh, so that the just requirement of the law might be fulfilled in us, who walk not according to the flesh but according to the Spirit" (Romans 8:3-4, NRSV). When the devil wants to make lemonade out of your very being, remember our God created the lemon! The enemy can't create a thing, so he uses everything he can to build himself up. Don't be deceived! I love you, SonShine. You give me a reason to look beyond myself and see the truth. Thank you. Let the Son shine,  I Dream of Jesus 01/14/2010
***I'm re-sharing a dream I had and can't stop thinking of lately. I'm guessing God has been bringing it to mind for a reason, so as I revisit the visions that danced in my head, I thought I'd take you along for the ride, sweet SonShines! In dream I journeyed from Jerusalem to Caesarea and from there I traveled the road to Damascus, arriving finally, at the street called Straight. A new student of the Word, these places had been merely words on a page, locations lost in time. That was before the journey of Biblical discovery that began upon my waking. It’s gorgeous what a dream can start. "While I was on my way and approaching Damascus, about noon a great light from heaven suddenly shone about me. I fell to the ground and heard a voice saying to me, 'Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me? 'I answered, 'Who are you, Lord?' Then he said to me, 'I am Jesus of Nazareth whom you are persecuting.' Now those who were with me saw the light but did not hear the voice of the one who was speaking to me. I asked, 'What am I to do, Lord?' The Lord said to me, 'Get up and go to Damascus; there you will be told everything that has been assigned to you to do.' Since I could not see because of the brightness of that light, those who were with me took my hand and led me to Damascus” (Acts 22:6-11, NRSV).  I had watched as a man appeared from within the walls of my mansion home, literally walking through the wood, plaster, and paint. He smiled a knowing sort of smile, gentle and warm, as if to say that he knew I would be following wherever he might lead. His molasses eyes were lit with rays of honey, and his smooth skin fell somewhere between those hues. Shoulder length locks of a deeper shade, gently brushed the jacket of his nearly tattered, quite dust-covered burnt sienna suit. Before I knew it, I was making my way to the sea from amid the dunes of a crowded beach. The suited man who had led me here, now beckoned at the shore. We shared a pleasant conversation, though the rush and crash of the waves muted the exchange. The sun hung from the sky as a chandelier, its light drenching the scene in soft rays of warmth. Without words he looked up from the board he had been waxing all the while and gestured to the left and I knew he wouldn’t lead me astray. As I trekked through the clean white sand, feet sinking beneath the grains, a continual peace washed over me as the tide to the shore. The people faded with my travels, quickly going from few and far between to absolutely nonexistent. I journeyed alone, along that empty beach, full of wonder and anticipation. Over time, the sand became more and more compact beneath my feet. Glancing down to see the change that was taking place, I no longer saw the soft mounds of loose sand that once required my careful attention to each step. I now stood on solid ground. Dust swept across the road of flawless, cream-colored dirt. Clean and bright, dirt seems a lacking term. Looking up, I found myself surrounded by ancient buildings of white clay, dotted by square windows that were rounded at each edge. I wasn’t surprised as much as bewildered, like a child on Christmas morning and a blood-bought saint on Judgment Day all wrapped up in one. Taking in the beauty and the wonder of it all, I opened the doors of what turned out to be a gymnasium. Polished wooden floors shined like gold, filling the room with light that shone bright enough to blur the walls from my view, though not so brilliant that I might need to look away. It was a comfortably overwhelming brilliance that seemed to invite one to stay awhile—an eternity if they wanted. Basketball in hand, other players scattered about the room, Paul greeted me, saying, “I knew you’d make it. I just thought it wouldn’t be for another year.” His letters so suited his demeanor that I couldn’t help but recognize him right away. I’m not sure whether I told him about the suited-surfer that had led me there, but it was plain to see he had known. Whether either of us had spoken His name or not, it was clear now, that it had been Christ I was seeking. Barely able to contain my bubbling excitement, I asked if he knew where I might find Jesus. From behind a lovingly amused sort of smile, he pointed me toward a quaint and somewhat ran-down house that stood out immensely among the much larger buildings that lined the road. As he pointed, his smile now a medley of gladness and sorrow, he said “No one wants to see Him anymore,” as if to say that my visit would be a welcomed one, but also to say so much more. Looking back to my dear friend before leaving, with no idea when we'd meet again, I can remember feeling that I should soak up every drop of the moment. It wasn’t easy to walk away, but the hope of what lie ahead called my name. My dream has placed a sense of urgency on my heart. I want to encourage you in your walk with the Lord today, sister. Even when it seems no one wants to see Him anymore, look for Jesus. He’s waiting around to be gracious to you…or He could be out surfing the waves of Caesarea…or shooting hoops in Damascus…or any number of activities that couldn’t drag Him away from you. What is keeping you away? Is it worth His waiting?  God Knew She Hadn't a Clue 01/12/2010
 She stood at the water’s edge, hands trembling, mind racing, heart eagerly anticipating the cold rush of submersion and the purity of spirit it all symbolized. Her years gave no hint of the depths of her love for Christ and the moment bore no sign of the time to come. God knew all along and called her to Him all the same. Baptism in youth often allows for a time of wandering thereafter, and her life would prove it isn’t a working tool, that pool of water. No, it was an outward showing of the indwelling Spirit, not a miracle cure for one’s sin nature. She had that part figured out, but the battles ahead would be permitted as a means of solidifying the commitment that should have placed her in those waters. God knew she’d given the gift of baptism all she knew to give, and He was prepared to teach her all she was missing. As she watched her older sister take that faithful plunge, she wondered if she, too, would cry upon exiting her life prior. Washed of sin in the name of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, tears of freedom streaming down her cheeks. She had never seen this side of the sister she’d fought with so many pointless times. She was beautiful. Lit by the Lord. God knew the answers to each inquisitive bit that circled in her mind. Would they be baptizing her if they knew how poor she was in this church filled with well-to-do onlookers? How would they react the next time she sinned and turned to them for guidance? Could she? After professing to be a girl after God’s own heart, could she ever let them see her slip? Was she supposed to close her eyes or leave them open? The water—was it cold as the chill sweeping over her nervous little body or would it be warm and soothing as it swished over her? As the pastor spoke his introduction of the step she would soon take, her knees began to knock one another and her mouth became parched. His hand reached for hers and soon, she took that first wet step into the waist deep waters. His arm wrapping around her tiny, shaking frame, he asked several questions, she replied. What had he said? How had she responded? Was the water warm or chilled or there at all? God knew. She hadn’t a clue. It was simply Jesus. And her. Standing on the brink of a change she couldn’t foresee. God was preparing her, protecting her, marking her as His own in a way to remind the heavenlies that this spirit was taken, no matter the battles ahead. Slowly, her pastor laid her down and the world grew silent. The moment swam around in time, yet ended far too soon. She felt Jesus in those waters. Engulfing her. Washing, covering, and setting her out into the world. God knew she would have to live in this fallen place, but He had made it so she would never have to be part of it.  Fast Times at Let the Son Shine 01/08/2010
***edited to include some reasoning...I felt it seemed vague and a tad more opinionated than I actually am on such things*** I thought I'd let you all in on how I'm fasting starting Sunday! 21 days without: Indulging in various foods and beverages that are about satisfying urges and not actual need of fuel...taking time to prepare and spending time enjoying such luxuries is keeping me from tasting and seeing that the Lord is my food! Food really consumes a day... Splurging in my spending...as a way to become a better steward of my blessings and appreciation for my husband's efforts to provide and God's faithfulness to do so. Wearing make-up and using skin care products to feel pretty...simply to remind myself that my beauty is in Christ. Activity that takes away from truly being active in my faith and my life...nothing too specific here, just over indulging in activities that aren't furthering the gospel blatantly or subtly. Basically, if it is indulgent, I'm not doing it. For 21 days. Wow, God is going to have a field day with all the free time, thought, and room this makes for Him to shine! Please pray with me over this time! Thanks so much! |   Loading
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