Friday, February 17, 2012
Monday, February 6, 2012
Valentine's Day
What does Valentine’s Day mean to you! For me Valentine’s Day used to be a day where I was either disappointed or angry. Why? Because my expectations were all out of whack. Selfishness and sin crept in and demanded that I be treated like a princess. The problem with that was my heart needed to be changed.
Valentine’s Day is an interesting holiday. Why do we only take one day out of the year to celebrate our mate when there are 364 other days left? Shouldn’t we be treating every day like a day to celebrate our mate. February 14 sets many up for disappointment and heartbreak. Flowers, chocolate candy, and candle light dinner is easy, but is it real. When we get out of bed the next morning are we still celebrating love and putting him first in our lives. In all honesty are you putting Him, God first? Our commitment to our mate should first come out of a heart sold out for God and out of that will flow our daily energy and love to celebrate our mate.
Trust me when I say that I don’t get it right many days. That selfishness and sin still creeps back in many days. But when my heart is right with God and my eyes are on him my husband gets the best part of me, my undeniable love and sacrifice for him.
So this year I challenge you to take the opportunity to celebrate Valentine’s Day every day. Leave notes on the mirror in the bathroom for the love of your life to wake up to, stock the fridge with his favorite things as a surprise, slip notes in the pockets of his work jacket, consult Hallmark for words if you aren’t good with them.
Send Love/Respect mail to his office or place of work so you can make his heart skip a beat. When I say Love/Respect mail I mean speak his language. Tell him that you respect him for x,y,z. Love is our language, and respect is a man’s language. Try it and I promise you it will make him smile. One thing I have found that is big is thanking him for getting up every morning and going to work. I like to be thanked for putting a meal on the table, cleaning the house, and taking care of the kids, so take the opportunity to thank him for his hard work. A man’s job to protect, physically, financially, and spiritually is huge. We don’t think twice when we are in danger and automatically look to our husband for protection. That’s a big responsibility, to be willing to even die for a wife and children. Thank him. Who cares if he looks at you weird. I get that a lot. It's the opening of your heart to him that is important. It's the respect you are showing him that the kids see that makes a difference.
I try to make it a priority to send him out the door in the morning with love at his side. If anything were to happen to him I want him to know that our last connection was that of love. If I'm busy with the kids he comes to find me now. In times past I have literally chase him out the door because he thought it all was silly. It made for a great chase around the garage, sometimes into the yard. It's good for the neighbors to see you kissing your husband in the driveway. They know where your priorities are. You are also learning how to be the same inside and outside the home. The key word being REAL.
I've left in anger before or let him leave with me angry and it has been agony waiting for him to return home to reconnect. We don't part without hugs and kisses. It's become so much a part of our life that the girls attack him before he leaves every morning for at least one hug and kiss, anything less results in crocodile tears. His knees sometimes have unwanted milk smiles when he leaves but my girls are learning how to treat their daddy and the special men in their future. With love, respect and celebration. We also celebrate his arrival at night. I'm always in the kitchen and I announce his arrival. He is to be celebrated. He is the king of our home. The girls always come running to reconnect.
So this year I’m going to celebrate my mate, but it won’t be a day of unfulfilled unreasonable expectations. I have so much to be thankful for that I’ve been given and provided for all year around. I don’t need anything else over the top. My husband makes me feel like a princess and I tell him he’s my knight in shining armor.
Come with me and celebrate life and love as the days fly by. Instead of examining your mate and what you think you deserve, examine yourself and see what God asks of us. Pour out your life as a fragrant offering. Dance in the joys of today.
Valentine’s Day is an interesting holiday. Why do we only take one day out of the year to celebrate our mate when there are 364 other days left? Shouldn’t we be treating every day like a day to celebrate our mate. February 14 sets many up for disappointment and heartbreak. Flowers, chocolate candy, and candle light dinner is easy, but is it real. When we get out of bed the next morning are we still celebrating love and putting him first in our lives. In all honesty are you putting Him, God first? Our commitment to our mate should first come out of a heart sold out for God and out of that will flow our daily energy and love to celebrate our mate.
Trust me when I say that I don’t get it right many days. That selfishness and sin still creeps back in many days. But when my heart is right with God and my eyes are on him my husband gets the best part of me, my undeniable love and sacrifice for him.
So this year I challenge you to take the opportunity to celebrate Valentine’s Day every day. Leave notes on the mirror in the bathroom for the love of your life to wake up to, stock the fridge with his favorite things as a surprise, slip notes in the pockets of his work jacket, consult Hallmark for words if you aren’t good with them.
Send Love/Respect mail to his office or place of work so you can make his heart skip a beat. When I say Love/Respect mail I mean speak his language. Tell him that you respect him for x,y,z. Love is our language, and respect is a man’s language. Try it and I promise you it will make him smile. One thing I have found that is big is thanking him for getting up every morning and going to work. I like to be thanked for putting a meal on the table, cleaning the house, and taking care of the kids, so take the opportunity to thank him for his hard work. A man’s job to protect, physically, financially, and spiritually is huge. We don’t think twice when we are in danger and automatically look to our husband for protection. That’s a big responsibility, to be willing to even die for a wife and children. Thank him. Who cares if he looks at you weird. I get that a lot. It's the opening of your heart to him that is important. It's the respect you are showing him that the kids see that makes a difference.
I try to make it a priority to send him out the door in the morning with love at his side. If anything were to happen to him I want him to know that our last connection was that of love. If I'm busy with the kids he comes to find me now. In times past I have literally chase him out the door because he thought it all was silly. It made for a great chase around the garage, sometimes into the yard. It's good for the neighbors to see you kissing your husband in the driveway. They know where your priorities are. You are also learning how to be the same inside and outside the home. The key word being REAL.
I've left in anger before or let him leave with me angry and it has been agony waiting for him to return home to reconnect. We don't part without hugs and kisses. It's become so much a part of our life that the girls attack him before he leaves every morning for at least one hug and kiss, anything less results in crocodile tears. His knees sometimes have unwanted milk smiles when he leaves but my girls are learning how to treat their daddy and the special men in their future. With love, respect and celebration. We also celebrate his arrival at night. I'm always in the kitchen and I announce his arrival. He is to be celebrated. He is the king of our home. The girls always come running to reconnect.
So this year I’m going to celebrate my mate, but it won’t be a day of unfulfilled unreasonable expectations. I have so much to be thankful for that I’ve been given and provided for all year around. I don’t need anything else over the top. My husband makes me feel like a princess and I tell him he’s my knight in shining armor.
Come with me and celebrate life and love as the days fly by. Instead of examining your mate and what you think you deserve, examine yourself and see what God asks of us. Pour out your life as a fragrant offering. Dance in the joys of today.
Thursday, January 26, 2012
Grace
The Ragamuffin Gospel- Brennan Manning
I just love the way Brennan Manning so enticingly and artfully describes grace. It's just so poetic and sends chills up my spine.
"With his characteristic joie de vivre, Robert Capon puts it this way: "The Reformation was a time when men went blind, staggering drunk because they had discovered, in the dusty basement of late medievalism, a whole cellar full of fifteen-hundred-year-old, two hundred proof grace-- of bottle after bottle of pure distillate of Scripture, one sip of which would convince anyone that God saves us single-handedly. The word of the Gospel-- after all those centuries of trying to lift yourself into heaven by worrying about the perfection of your bootstraps-- suddenly turned out to be a flat announcement that the saved were home before they started.... Grace has to be drunk straight: no water, no ice, and certainly no ginger ale; neither goodness, nor badness, nor the flowers that bloom in the spring of super spirituality could be allowed to enter into the case."
Matthew 9:9-13 captures a lovely glimpse of the gospel of grace: "As he moved on, Jesus saw a man named Matthew at his post where taxes were collected. He said to him, 'Follow me.' Matthew got up and followed him. Now it happened that, while Jesus was at table in Matthew's house, many tax collectors and those known as sinners came to join Jesus and his disciples at dinner. The Pharisees saw this and complained to his disciples, 'What reason can the Teacher have for eating with tax collectors and those who disregard the law?' Overhearing their remark, he said, 'People who are in good health do not need a doctor; sick people do. Go and learn the meaning of the words, "It is mercy I desire and not sacrifice." I have come not to call the self-righteous but sinners.'"
Here is revelation bright as the evening star: Jesus comes for sinners, for those as outcast as tax collectors and for those caught up in squalid choices and failed dreams. He comes for corporate executives, street people, superstars, farmers, hookers, addicts, IRS agents, AIDS victims and even used car salesmen. Jesus not only talks with these people but dines with them-- fully aware that His table fellowship with sinners will raise the eyebrows of religious bureaucrats who hold up the robes and insignia of their authority to justify their condemnation of the truth and their rejection of the gospel of grace.
This passage should be read, reread, and memorized. Every Christian generation tries to dim the blinding brightness of its meaning because the gospel seems too good to be true. We think salvation belongs to the proper and pious, to those who stand at a safe distance from the back alleys of existence, clunking their judgments at those who have been soiled by life. In the name of Grace, what has been the verdict of the Christian community on the stained life of the late Rock Hudson? To the disclosure (the $4.5 million settlement to his lover Marc Christian notwithstanding) that he called a priest to his deathbed, confessed his sins, and cried out to God for forgiveness?
Jesus, who forgave the sins of the paralytic (thereby claiming divine power), proclaims that He has invited sinners and not the self-righteous to His table. The Greek verb used here, kalein, has the sense of inviting an honored guest to dinner.
In effect, Jesus says the Kingdom of His Father is not a subdivision for the self-righteous nor for those who feel they possess the state secret of their salvation. The Kingdom is not an exclusive, well-trimmed suburb with snobbish rules about who can live there. No, it is for a larger, homelier, less self-conscious cast of people who understand they are sinners because they have experienced the yaw and pitch of moral struggle.
These are the sinner-guests invited by Jesus to closeness with Him around the banquet table. It remains a startling story to those who never understand that the men and women who are truly filled with light are those who have gazed deeply into the darkness of their imperfect existence. Perhaps it was after meditating on this passage that Morton Kelsey wrote: "The church is not a museum for saints but a hospital for sinners."
The Good News means we can stop lying to ourselves. The sweet sound of amazing grace saves us from the necessity of self-deception. It keeps us from denying that though Christ was victorious, the battle with lust, greed, and pride still rages within us. As a sinner who has been redeemed, I can acknowledge that I am often unloving, irritable, angry, and resentful with those closest to me. When I go to church I can leave my white hat at home and admit I have failed. God not only loves me as I am, but also knows me as I am. Because of this I don't need to apply spiritual cosmetics to make myself presentable to Him. I can accept ownership of my poverty and powerlessness and neediness.
As C.S. Lewis says in The Four Loves, "Grace substitutes a full, childlike and delighted acceptance of our need, a joy in total dependence. The good man is sorry for the sins which have increased his need. He is not entirely sorry for the fresh need they have produced."
I just love the way Brennan Manning so enticingly and artfully describes grace. It's just so poetic and sends chills up my spine.
"With his characteristic joie de vivre, Robert Capon puts it this way: "The Reformation was a time when men went blind, staggering drunk because they had discovered, in the dusty basement of late medievalism, a whole cellar full of fifteen-hundred-year-old, two hundred proof grace-- of bottle after bottle of pure distillate of Scripture, one sip of which would convince anyone that God saves us single-handedly. The word of the Gospel-- after all those centuries of trying to lift yourself into heaven by worrying about the perfection of your bootstraps-- suddenly turned out to be a flat announcement that the saved were home before they started.... Grace has to be drunk straight: no water, no ice, and certainly no ginger ale; neither goodness, nor badness, nor the flowers that bloom in the spring of super spirituality could be allowed to enter into the case."
Matthew 9:9-13 captures a lovely glimpse of the gospel of grace: "As he moved on, Jesus saw a man named Matthew at his post where taxes were collected. He said to him, 'Follow me.' Matthew got up and followed him. Now it happened that, while Jesus was at table in Matthew's house, many tax collectors and those known as sinners came to join Jesus and his disciples at dinner. The Pharisees saw this and complained to his disciples, 'What reason can the Teacher have for eating with tax collectors and those who disregard the law?' Overhearing their remark, he said, 'People who are in good health do not need a doctor; sick people do. Go and learn the meaning of the words, "It is mercy I desire and not sacrifice." I have come not to call the self-righteous but sinners.'"
Here is revelation bright as the evening star: Jesus comes for sinners, for those as outcast as tax collectors and for those caught up in squalid choices and failed dreams. He comes for corporate executives, street people, superstars, farmers, hookers, addicts, IRS agents, AIDS victims and even used car salesmen. Jesus not only talks with these people but dines with them-- fully aware that His table fellowship with sinners will raise the eyebrows of religious bureaucrats who hold up the robes and insignia of their authority to justify their condemnation of the truth and their rejection of the gospel of grace.
This passage should be read, reread, and memorized. Every Christian generation tries to dim the blinding brightness of its meaning because the gospel seems too good to be true. We think salvation belongs to the proper and pious, to those who stand at a safe distance from the back alleys of existence, clunking their judgments at those who have been soiled by life. In the name of Grace, what has been the verdict of the Christian community on the stained life of the late Rock Hudson? To the disclosure (the $4.5 million settlement to his lover Marc Christian notwithstanding) that he called a priest to his deathbed, confessed his sins, and cried out to God for forgiveness?
Jesus, who forgave the sins of the paralytic (thereby claiming divine power), proclaims that He has invited sinners and not the self-righteous to His table. The Greek verb used here, kalein, has the sense of inviting an honored guest to dinner.
In effect, Jesus says the Kingdom of His Father is not a subdivision for the self-righteous nor for those who feel they possess the state secret of their salvation. The Kingdom is not an exclusive, well-trimmed suburb with snobbish rules about who can live there. No, it is for a larger, homelier, less self-conscious cast of people who understand they are sinners because they have experienced the yaw and pitch of moral struggle.
These are the sinner-guests invited by Jesus to closeness with Him around the banquet table. It remains a startling story to those who never understand that the men and women who are truly filled with light are those who have gazed deeply into the darkness of their imperfect existence. Perhaps it was after meditating on this passage that Morton Kelsey wrote: "The church is not a museum for saints but a hospital for sinners."
The Good News means we can stop lying to ourselves. The sweet sound of amazing grace saves us from the necessity of self-deception. It keeps us from denying that though Christ was victorious, the battle with lust, greed, and pride still rages within us. As a sinner who has been redeemed, I can acknowledge that I am often unloving, irritable, angry, and resentful with those closest to me. When I go to church I can leave my white hat at home and admit I have failed. God not only loves me as I am, but also knows me as I am. Because of this I don't need to apply spiritual cosmetics to make myself presentable to Him. I can accept ownership of my poverty and powerlessness and neediness.
As C.S. Lewis says in The Four Loves, "Grace substitutes a full, childlike and delighted acceptance of our need, a joy in total dependence. The good man is sorry for the sins which have increased his need. He is not entirely sorry for the fresh need they have produced."
Gospel of Grace
The Ragamuffin Gospel- Brennan Manning
The gospel of grace calls us to sing of the everyday mystery of intimacy with God instead of always seeking for miracles or visions. It calls us to sing of the spiritual roots of such commonplace experiences as falling in love, telling the truth, raising a child, teaching a class, forgiving each other after we have hurt each other, standing together in the bad weather of life, of surprise and sexuality, and the radiance of existence. Of such is the kingdom of heaven, and such homely mysteries is genuine religion made. The conversion from mistrust to truth is a confident quest seeking the spiritual meaning of human existence. Grace abounds and walks around the edges of our everyday experience.
The gospel of grace calls us to sing of the everyday mystery of intimacy with God instead of always seeking for miracles or visions. It calls us to sing of the spiritual roots of such commonplace experiences as falling in love, telling the truth, raising a child, teaching a class, forgiving each other after we have hurt each other, standing together in the bad weather of life, of surprise and sexuality, and the radiance of existence. Of such is the kingdom of heaven, and such homely mysteries is genuine religion made. The conversion from mistrust to truth is a confident quest seeking the spiritual meaning of human existence. Grace abounds and walks around the edges of our everyday experience.
Thursday, January 19, 2012
God’s Forgiveness
This is a section from a book by Angela Thomas called When Wallflowers Dance that really resonated with me. This woman is proclaiming such beautiful truth.
"Here’s how I have come to feel about the pursuit of a clear conscience. Either the forgiveness that God has promised to us is halfhearted and conditional, based on some unattainable, unknown standard of self-flogging and sustained guilt, or His forgiveness really forgives—instantly, eternally, and completely.
Either I believe that forgiveness is what God said—free, available to any who would call on His name, and completely able to cleanse the impure heart—or I don’t really believe God. Either God can make you clean or He is not God.
I am staking my whole life on the belief that God is who He says He is. Jesus is really His Son, my Savior. His death was enough to pay the penalty for every sin. His resurrection was the proof of His divinity. The Holy Spirit is His promised gift to you and me for day-by-day, moment-to-moment guidance. And for some reason that doesn’t make any sense to anybody, God is so crazy in love with His creation that He freely forgives any who would ask. In case you haven’t thought about it lately, when the God of heaven and earth forgives there is nothing that can happen to make it less, and there is nothing you can do to make it more. Forgiven in the name of Jesus means your conscience is clear.
That truth is why we get down on our hands and knees and worship the only One who is able to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. That’s why we show up at church and persuade our friends to come to Bible studies and try to rearrange our lives around God. That’s what makes God amazing and takes our breath away at His generosity. That is why we sing and lift our hands to thank Him for the gift of being forgiven. When God bends down in His mercy and forgives a helpless, little, beat-up woman like you or me, then no matter what anyone says or how many voices you hear in your head or how long it takes you to believe it, you have been made clean.
You are forgiven.
It’s time to hold your head up.
It’s time to dance."
"Here’s how I have come to feel about the pursuit of a clear conscience. Either the forgiveness that God has promised to us is halfhearted and conditional, based on some unattainable, unknown standard of self-flogging and sustained guilt, or His forgiveness really forgives—instantly, eternally, and completely.
Either I believe that forgiveness is what God said—free, available to any who would call on His name, and completely able to cleanse the impure heart—or I don’t really believe God. Either God can make you clean or He is not God.
I am staking my whole life on the belief that God is who He says He is. Jesus is really His Son, my Savior. His death was enough to pay the penalty for every sin. His resurrection was the proof of His divinity. The Holy Spirit is His promised gift to you and me for day-by-day, moment-to-moment guidance. And for some reason that doesn’t make any sense to anybody, God is so crazy in love with His creation that He freely forgives any who would ask. In case you haven’t thought about it lately, when the God of heaven and earth forgives there is nothing that can happen to make it less, and there is nothing you can do to make it more. Forgiven in the name of Jesus means your conscience is clear.
That truth is why we get down on our hands and knees and worship the only One who is able to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. That’s why we show up at church and persuade our friends to come to Bible studies and try to rearrange our lives around God. That’s what makes God amazing and takes our breath away at His generosity. That is why we sing and lift our hands to thank Him for the gift of being forgiven. When God bends down in His mercy and forgives a helpless, little, beat-up woman like you or me, then no matter what anyone says or how many voices you hear in your head or how long it takes you to believe it, you have been made clean.
You are forgiven.
It’s time to hold your head up.
It’s time to dance."
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
Happy Birthday Beautiful
My first born, my big bright eyes, mischievous smile, my test every limit, skip to her own beat beauty is turning 4 today. Can it really be only 4 years ago I held our miracle in my arms for the first time. In some regards 4 years has felt like a very long time, but it really has been just a blink of an eye. My Katelyn Marie has tested almost every fiber in my being over the past 4 years, but that has been a good thing. It’s challenged a soul that needs trials to grow. It’s brought Chris and I closer together because we have had to learn to work together as a team and figure it out.
My Katelyn Marie can be a rough and tough little girl. It’s a miracle she hasn’t been to the ER yet with her antics (knock on wood). And when she’s not up to something she’s teaching her sister to do what she’s not supposed to do, keeping a wary eye over her shoulder for her mothers, moi. But then on the other hand she has the tenderest heart. A willingness to serve and look out for her sister first. She shows a verbal sense of gratitude far above her 4 little years. When someone is hurt or in pain she’s always right there to lend a word of comfort or a soft pat on the arm.
My little Katerbug has taught me invaluable lessons over the 4 years she’s been in our lives. She’s taught me that everyone has a chance to be a good parent if they chose to make the right, loving, kind, respectful and God honoring decisions in life. I was convinced before I had Katelyn that I was genetically predispositioned to fail and only cause pain in my child’s life. But she helped me find truth. She has brought healing to the broken parts of my life. She has challenged me to be the best person, best mom and best wife so that she has the best shot in life to be ALIVE, and have HOPE and PEACE.
She deserves it all because she’s a miracle and a gift from my heavenly Father who has given me a precious token of His love for a moment in time. I can’t wait to see what the years ahead have in store, because these past 4 have been so full and overflowing with lessons learned. My heart is full because of my little butterfly.
Thursday, December 8, 2011
Sock Monkey
Sock monkeys are so easy to make and lovable. I wouldn't exactly call them cute, but they are adorable in a unique homely way. It's my nephew's first Christmas so I made him a sock monkey I dubbed Curly.
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