A Cup of Cold Water

Billy's friend Eric Geiger tells a super cool story about a life that was changed because someone gave a woman a drink of cold water. I love stories like this.

It reminds me a little of the small country church, Tabernacle Baptist, in the town where my parents live. When I was a teenager, we had been out of a healthy church for a very long time, and we hadn't gone anywhere at all in about a year. The sweet people of the church kept inviting us and giving us their little cards with church information and service times. At first we were both scared and uninterested. But we couldn't open a drawer or cabinet without finding one of those little white cards. Finally we succumbed and started attending the church, which brought about amazing spiritual change in our lives. Ultimately, the pastor and his wife introduced Billy and me, so I owe Tabernacle a debt of gratitude that extends past my time there as a member. I'm forever grateful to people who persisted in reaching out to us when we weren't sure we wanted to be reached out to.

My Valentine

Today I was reading a conversation online about shyness. The point was made—several times—that shyness is really pride and self-centeredness, to which I wholeheartedly say “Amen!” Reading about others’ struggles with shyness made me mentally retrace my journey to freedom. I was shy and socially awkward for many years. (Stay with me, this really is about my valentine.) I made excuses for my lack of social skill (“I just don’t fit in. People don’t like me.”) and blamed all those rude, thoughtless people who didn’t reach out to me, without taking any responsibility for my part. Which was, uh, about 90%.

I was critical and judgmental toward others about a host of issues.

I was also a very fearful person. Not long ago I was looking back at letters and journal entries from 1999. I was so afraid! Afraid of Y2K, meteor storms, invasions of several countries, and a host of other things (not just conspiracy theories). I worried all the time. For the record, none of what I worried about ever happened.

And I excused these things with the statement, “That’s just the way I am.”

In the midst of all this, Billy was God’s perfect gift to me. He loved me unconditionally, and, like God, didn’t look at my outward appearance but instead looked at my heart. I wanted to honor God with my life, I just didn’t know how in so many ways. A lot of my efforts to grow spiritually were just dead-end attempts to make myself good enough for God…But somehow Billy saw past that and loved me anyway.

I had a good life before we married, but after we married it became awesome. Marriage was great for lots of reasons, but one of the greatest was that I became joined with a man who helped me grow. He was not afraid to speak the truth in love. Billy is truly the most teachable person I have ever met. His entire life is committed to allowing God to make him into the person He wants him to be, by whatever means necessary. He is also gifted in helping others become more like Christ, one of the main reasons he’s now a discipleship pastor.

I can honestly say that I don’t know where I would be without him. He has sharpened and encouraged me more than he will ever know. With his guidance, I grew from a shy, awkward, fearful young woman to one who has found security in Christ, the freedom of faith and trust, and love for others. Billy has never been afraid to tell me, “Fear and worry are sin.” And then he’s been willing to help me break fearful thought habits. He confronted me when I made critical comments about people and was a loving example of God’s grace toward others. He loved me when I was too shy and insecure to answer a question in Sunday School or play a new board game with friends, and he continued to love me until I grew past those handicaps.

I’m still a long way from perfect, but I can say that Billy has been God’s greatest instrument for change in my life. He loves me like Christ loves the church. Looking back over the past 8 years, I am overwhelmed at how far I have come, largely because of the wonderful man God gave me. This Valentine’s day it might not sound very romantic to say that I love Billy because he has helped me grow spiritually, but it’s true. Thanks to his discipleship and leadership in our marriage, I know a freedom and hope I otherwise never would have.

I love you, Billy. Thank you for loving me.

Legalism

Ed Stetzer points to an interview with Chuck Swindoll where Swindoll makes this statment:

The problem with legalists is that not enough people have confronted them and told them to get lost. Those are strong words, but I don’t mess with legalism anymore. I’m 72 years old; what have I got to lose? Seriously, I used to kowtow to legalists, but they’re dangerous. They are grace-killers. They’ll drive off every new Christian you bring to church. They are enemies of the faith. Other than that, I don’t have any opinion!

So, if I am trying to force my personal list of no-no’s on you and make you feel guilty if you don’t join me, then I’m out of line and I need to be told that.

I appreciated this, since I come from a legalistic background (much of it self-imposed), and since Swindoll's book Grace Awakening was so pivotal in my understanding of God's grace. It's truly one of the most life-changing things I ever read.

Quite honestly, I feel certain that I would not have been open to correction during my most legalistic days, but I too have reached a point where I don't care to pander to those who add to God's Word with rules He never put there. I put myself under that burden for enough years to know how spiritually lethal it can be.

In Between

I dislike this time of being in between houses, belonging neither to one nor the other. Nerves wear thin about now, when the exchange is almost, but not quite, complete. I've done better this time than last time (just 8 months ago), perhaps because I've always known this place was temporary, perhaps because I've stayed better fortified with the Word, adequate breaks, and decent food. (I lost 10 pounds during our last move and got down to pre-baby sized jeans. I wanted to make absolutely sure that didn't happen this time. Just kidding! I'm pregnant, so it doesn't matter...)

I will miss this charming old house. Our new home is nondescript 1970's style, not my favorite architectural era, but I can look at it as a clean slate just waiting for the addition of our own personality. While we are excited and pleased to be in a place of our own, it is not really what we envisioned. I'm not a fan of neighborhood life. Yet it is so clearly the place God picked out for us. Billy and I were talking the other night about how God often gives us what we need, not exactly what we want. Just following where He leads brings such freedom, because we are not constantly holding out for our own way. I believe with all my heart, like the Bible says, that God chooses the places where we live and I know that He puts us there for a purpose greater than our own. I am excited to see what He has in store for the ministry of our new home.

Here are a few things I really love and appreciate about our new place:

A big laundry room. I prayed for this. It will be a delight to work in!

A small screened in porch. I believe I prayed for this too! I can't wait to find a swing and spend time watching the kids play in the yard or just enjoying the quiet.

A large fenced yard. The kids have a place to run and play for the first time since we've lived here.

A great kitchen with new appliances. I've never had a new refrigerator, and I'm so excited. None of the current appliances worked, so we had to include new ones in our plans. They will be fun to use, I know.

A dining room big enough for our large dining room set. Our big table seats up to 10, so we will be able to have guests easily.

I also really love the layout of our new house, with a fairly open floor plan between kitchen, dining room, and living room. It will easily accommodate many people at one time.

A master bathroom. Haven't had this since our first house, years ago.

Lots of storage. 'Nuff said.

I'm sure I'll discover even more things to love about our new place as we live there for awhile. Right now I just feel thankful.

Now off of my break and on to packing!

We Choose Our Attitude

The other day I was feeling down and overwhelmed and a little snappy. My 6yo asked if I was upset, and I told her how I was feeling. She replied in the sweetest possible way, "Mama, could you please just get over it?"

I remembered all the times she (or the other two) have had bad attitudes or complaining hearts and I've told them that they just need to "get over it." Not to be heartless, but just because we can't always have our way and that is no reason to be mad at the world. We have choices about how we respond, and it's better for us and everyone else if we choose to respond positively.

Well, we have double standards sometimes, don't we? I thought about her request for a minute and then said, "Yes, I guess I can." We can't always choose our circumstances, but we can choose how we respond to them, right?

Let the Little Children Come

As I mentioned earlier this week, we're in the middle of Vacation Bible School at our church. I feel fortunate to have been involved for many years in really wonderful children's work in several different churches that shares Christ's love without being pushy or manipulative.

I used to greatly underestimate the importance of such ministries to children. Parents should be responsible to teach their children about God, I reasoned...And so they should...But some parents don't know Christ and even those who do don't always do what they should. But even if they do, families are designed to live in communities of faith and our children's ministries should reinforce what the children of faithful parents are already being taught. How wonderful for little Christians to have the encouragement and influence of teachers who love Jesus!

I think what convinced me of the importance of children's ministry are the stories of several wonderful friends, all of whom came to know Christ because someone cared enough to reach out to them and bring them to church. Most of these friends are now serving God and raising generations (children and grandchildren) who are making a difference in His Kingdom, all as a direct result of a friend, family member, or neighbor who cared enough to bring them to church and/or share the gospel with them. What a joy to take part in having that type of influence in the lives of children and their families who might otherwise never hear about God's love for them! And likewise, what a joy to help reinforce the discipleship of godly Christian parents and to see their children now growing up and serving God alongside me! I can look back over the years and the children I've taught and it brings such encouragement to see that some of them are grown-up young people who work for Christ and share Him with others.

I think a lot about the kids I've taught over the past 10 years, since I first began at 18. They never fail to win my heart. I know I've made a lot of mistakes in my teaching through the years, but I have to trust that God will take even those mistakes and use them to touch these precious children to grow up to be good, whole, people who love Him and others. This week I look at my room full of sweet second graders whom I've come to love so much in the past four days, and I wonder what will become of them. In just a few short years they will be in middle school and high school, making choices that will impact their lives forever. What if they make the most important decision of all because of some small impact I can make? What if they choose to become Christ-followers because I joined with others of His apprentices to tell them Jesus loves them? My prayer each time I get to teach these sweet ones is, "Lord Jesus, let me make a difference."

Worry

I have a history of fear and worry. By the grace of God, I've largely overcome it, but it still raises its ugly head and tries to get a foothold every now and then.

Last night our pastor taught on Luke 12:22-34. He said this about worry:

Worry is a sin directly against God. It says to God, "You are not enough. I do not believe you can meet my needs. You are not big enough to handle my problems. You are not sufficient to take care of me."

Proof Text

Last night I was sorting through some memorabilia and found the folders full of letters Billy and I wrote each other during out courtship, along with the journal I kept. I spent about an hour traveling down memory lane, and in all honesty I could have spent a lot longer than that!

Anyway, I discovered a written disagreement we had about a scriptural issue, and for the first time in my life, he introduced me to the term "proof text" (a term I used in this post about the book So Much More). I can't believe I had been a Christian for so long and no one had told me that there's a right and wrong way to interpret scripture, but I know I'm not alone in this. I have to chalk it up to the lack of personal discipleship in a lot of churches. Stuff like this is important. So if you're interested in the ins and outs of biblical interpretation, Billy is our guest blogger today (unbeknown to him *g*). Here's what he wrote...I hope you enjoy the conversational tone...Remember, this is from our correspondence.

...The real problem is with the Interpretive Principle...It is called proof-texting. [The people we're discussing] are finding Scripture to fit and match their lifestyle and choices. They find a text (Biblical passages) that "proves" what they believe. This is a dangerous principle of interpretation and is absolutely wrong. If there were Scripture passages that deal with [our issue of disagreement] then those passages need to be exegeted to determine God's word on the matter. There are no such Scriptural passages. This form of interpretive principle is wrong every time. It is just like what situational ethics says: "Your choice depends on the situation." [If you approach the Bible like this, the meaning of] each Scripture passage can very with each person. The Bible says Scripture is not of any private interpretation. There is a certain meaning for each passage of Scripture. Following are just two of the many passages that deal with interpretation.


(Gen. 40:5NKJV) Then the butler and the baker of the kind of Egypt, who were confined in the prison, had a dream, both of them, each man's dream in one night and each man's dream with its own interpretation.


(2 Pet. 1:19-21 NKJV) And so we have the prophetic word confirmed, which you do well to heed as a light that shines in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts; knowing this first, that no prophecy of Scripture is of any private interpretation, for prophecy never came by the will of man, but holy men of God spoke as they were moved by the Holy Spirit.


The use of "proof-texting" can lead to any kind of doctrine. This is the way cults are formed, with private interpretation. I could use this method and come up with a doctrine of education in which a Synagogue system would be God's chosen way. A doctrine of clothing--we should only wear the type of clothes God's people wore in the Bible--it is God's chosen way. A doctrine of healing--let's forget modern medicine and just trust God, He is the Great Physician--you are not really trusting God if you use modern medicine, [because it's not] in the Bible. Just trust God, He will heal you. (Those that die didn't have enough faith, poor them.) A doctrine of drinking only water or wine at meals...A doctrine of wealth...You can see where this can lead...

By the way, we resolved the issue of disagreement quite nicely, and here we are today!

I have to say, since this was all new to me, and I was already a tiny bit intimidated by his pastoral position, I felt a little...How shall I say...At a disadvantage against his seminary training. What I didn't understand at the time is that you don't have to go to seminary to learn how to interpret scripture. A couple good resources:

How to Study the Bible by Kay Arthur (I must admit with some consternation that Billy go this for me and I haven't read it yet. Shame, shame.)

The Christian Research Institute also has some excellent resources for learning to interpret God's Word for yourself. I like what Hank Hanegraaff says, "You can do it as well as I can and probably better." CRI ministered to my family in a wonderful way as we recovered from errant "Christianity" prior to my marriage.

God is Love

Yesterday sweet Cherry mentioned the love of God. Her statement started me on a train of thought and brought to my heart an overwhelming thankfulness for God’s love for me. I thought of these verses from the Bible:

For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.

John 3:16

The Lord your God is with you,
he is mighty to save.
He will take great delight in you,
he will quiet you with his love,
he will rejoice over you with singing.

Zephaniah 3:17

The thief does not come except to steal, and to kill, and to destroy. I have come that they may have life, and that they may have it more abundantly.

John 10:10

I’m so grateful that God loves me so much that He came to rescue me from my own brokenness in a broken world. I’m overjoyed that because of His love, I can live a victorious and abundant life. I delight in my knowledge that the depth of His love has changed me on the inside, given me a fresh start, and redeemed me from a dark pit. I’m grateful that I’m not merely religious, but that I am called His friend. And I’m awed that He wants me to join Him in sharing His love with a wounded world so that they, too, can experience His redemption and healing, now and forever.

Now I Understand

When I was little we had these friends with 10 kids. They were rowdy and hospitable and we loved to go to their house. It was always happy chaos. There were kids of all ages everywhere and it wasn’t unusual to find toothbrushes in the commode and the like. One time one of their kids had spilled a bag of cheet-os on the carpet and hadn’t cleaned it up. The little kids were walking through the mess and picking cheet-os up from the floor and eating them. We were mortified.

Now I understand.

Once my sister and I babysat for a family with 4 boys while their parents went on a date. When we arrived the house was a disaster, according to our standard. Now our house wasn’t perfect, but it was never allowed to get like this. They also had a purple piano which seems really cool now, but then just seemed weird. (I was a lot more judgmental in those days about life and death matters like peoples’ paint choices.) Their boys were terrible, probably because we wouldn't let them watch TV. I was beside myself.

Friday night as I ran around trying unsuccessfully to get the house clean before the baby sitter arrived so Billy and I could go on a date I remembered how critical I had been.

Now I understand.

One time when I was a kid, my mom and us 5 kids were grocery shopping. We did it regularly so we had learned to be reasonably mannerly when out and about. Out of the blue a woman we had never seen before ran up to us and accused one of us of scratching her screaming son, who had been nowhere nearby. Then she shouted at my mom, “YOU THINK YOUR FAMILY IS SO PERFECT!!!!!!!”

At the time I was horrified (it was pretty shocking), but now…Well, there have been days that my kids were horrible in public and when I saw a family with well-behaved kids it made me just want to cry. She was probably having a really bad day.

Now I understand.

Contentment

There have been things to hate about every place I’ve ever lived. Sometimes I succumbed to the temptation to hate those places. I really hated Texas for a lot of years. I know that extenuating circumstances influenced my feelings, but honestly, those circumstances never really had anything to do with Texas or most Texas people. I just made up my mind that since I wasn’t happy (for good reason) about a lousy situation, I’d take it out by hating the state where I had to live in said situation. Later, I changed my attitude, but I think an unbearable situation would have been a little easier if I’d chosen to enjoy my surroundings. (For the record, I love Texas now, and it tops my list of places I’d like to live.)

Loving where you live really is a choice.

Billy and I joke that we somehow always end up living in places no one else wants to live.

When we married we lived in a tiny town in the Mississippi Delta. Most people I knew who had moved their from other places never grew to like it, although most locals were fiercely loyal to their community. It was so remote that the farming segment of the population were a very tight-knit community, old-fashioned in many ways. Their July 4^th celebration could have happened 100 years ago. It was like stepping back in time.

On the other hand, our neighborhood had deteriorated into a crack town. We could throw a stone from our front porch to three street corners where cocaine was sold in broad daylight. Drunks and drug addicts walked by our house at all times of the day and night, and we once had a gang fight in the street in front of our house which left someone laying in the street. When I called 911, no one responded. (That happened more than once.) The sheriff couldn’t even carry a gun—he was a convicted felon who was elected to his second term from prison. The local judge was named one of America’s six worst judges by Reader’s Digest.

We were an hour from the nearest Wal-Mart, which was located in a city that had the highest murder rate per capita in the nation that year. The church had actually had ministers turn them down because it was too far from Wal-Mart. (That blows my mind to this day.) I had to drive an hour and a half to the hospital where I had my first baby, like all the other women in the community.

The previous “pastor” had murdered his wife in the church parsonage (where we lived) and passed it off as suicide. He came to trial while we lived their and was sentenced to life in prison without parole.

But in spite of all the drawbacks, we loved where we lived! We cried a lot of tears when we had to leave. Some of our sweetest memories are of that place. When we got married we knew that we wouldn’t be there forever, and we determined to enjoy our time there. That was the sweetest little church I’ve ever seen. Someone described it as an oasis, and that’s exactly what it was. The people were beyond wonderful. They loved us in spite of our many faults, and welcomed us into their families since our own families were so far away. We still miss our Mississippi family! We enjoyed the farming culture and endless fields (which most outsiders hated). The pace of life (for us) was slow and idyllic. “Ministry” happened on the field, or perhaps I should say in the fields. Billy had great hunting opportunities in some of the nation’s best national forest. We got to live in an amazing, unique culture.

It was all about attitude. Although there were many drawbacks, we chose to see the good. And there was plenty of good. I’m glad that we chose to have that mindset, because we’ve been able to take it everywhere we’ve gone. We’ve loved each place that we’ve lived, even though we do usually end up in places no one else wants to go, places that are considered less than desirable. Our last location wasn’t as undesirable, but we had plenty of other challenges that made it a tough assignment. Our new spot is another one that most people don’t want to come, and most who do don’t want to stay. It’s not always easy to choose to see the good, but each time we have, God has honored it. (I don’t know how else to explain it.) Instead of focusing on all the reasons to hate where we live, He’s enabled us to enjoy the wonderful benefits and unique culture of each location. We’re strangers, missionaries, sojourners. And that makes us international tourists of sorts, able to enjoy God’s best about any place He sends us.

“For here we have no continuing city, but we seek the one to come.”

Hebrews 13:14 (NKJV)

Veils Christians Wear, Part 4

Yes, just one more masked hero.

The final mask Ray Steadman discusses in his book Authentic Christianity:

But perhaps the most common veil employed by Christians is remoteness--the practice of keeping feelings and attitudes completely to oneself. Remoteness arises primarily from fear--the fear of being known for what one is. Often, though, it is described defensively as "reserve," "privacy," or "reticence." It is clearly a veil to keep others from seeing a fading glory [like the glory of Moses which faded over time after he came down from Mt. Sinai] and is a direct violation of such biblical commands as "confess your sins one to another and pray for each other so that you may be healed" (James 5:16) and "Carry each other's burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ" (Galatians 6:2).

The flesh, or natural life, likes nothing better than to hide or disguise itself. We all tend to fear rejection if we are seen for what we are. The satanic lie is that in order to be liked or accepted we must appear capable or successful. Therefore we either project capability (the extrovert) or we seek to hide our failure (the introvert). The new covenant offers the opposite. If we will admit our inadequacy, we can have God's adequacy, and all we have sought vainly to produce (confidence, success, impact, integrity, and reality) is given to us at the point of our inability. The key is to take away the veil.

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3

Veils Christians Wear, Part 3

OK, OK, I promise this is the last picture of a creepy masked superhero! My 4-year-old little boy thinks it's cool though...

Here's another excerpt from Ray Steadman's Authentic Christianity, about "veils" Christians wear:

An impatient spirit can be a veil to hide the reality of what we are. It is often manifested to indicate importance or busyness. It frequently appears as a mark of zeal or dedication. But to be easily irritated, to frown readily, or reply sharply is a form of pride usually used to cover insecurity or a deep sense of inferiority. A self-justifying habit by people who can't stand to be misunderstood but who are forever explaining their actions reveals something similar.

Part 1
Part 2
Part 4

Veils Christians Wear, Part 2

Again, from Authentic Christianity by Ray Steadman:

Another common Christian veil is sensitivity or touchiness. People who are touchy or excessively sensitive are easily hurt by the words or actions of others. They must be handled with kid gloves lest they take offense. And when offended, they suffer agonies of spirit and tend to wallow in a morass of self-pity. Their explanation of such agony is always the "thoughlessness" or "rudeness" of others, but in reality it is their own protest at not being given the attention or prominence that they're sure they deserve.

P.S. I don't think Batman really embodies the style of this blog very well, but he sure had a secret identity, didn't he?!

Part 1
Part 3
Part 4

Veils Christians Wear, Part 1

In his book Authentic Christianity, Ray Steadman talks about the "veils" Christians wear--those things we hide behind to disguise what is really going on inside.


Here's one veil he discusses:

Self-righteousness is a particularly noxious form of Christian pride. It seizes upon some biblical standard of conduct and takes pride in own ability to measure up externally while conveniently overlooking any failure of the inner life to conform. The end result is a smug, patronizing, and even nasty attitude toward anyone who does not meet the standard. Self-righteousness is also the sin of the person who nags another, for the nagger is focusing on a single point of conduct and ignores the areas in his or her own lifewhere a similar failure is occuring.

Part 2
Part 3

Smart or Wise?

Recently I was in a social gathering where intelligence was highly regarded. Much of the conversation revolved around who was the smartest, who had the highest GPA in high school and college, who had attended what university, and so forth. By the end of the conversation the “less smart” people were apologizing for their supposed lack of intelligence and their community college attendance. (Those who hadn’t been to college at all didn’t dare speak up.) The sad part was that this was a Christian gathering, where, of all places, everyone should feel welcome and valued, regardless of IQ or education. Being “insane smart” shouldn’t even make the brag list.

I thought of I Corinthians 1:26-31, which says,

Take a good look, friends, at who you were when you got called into this life. I don't see many of "the brightest and the best" among you, not many influential, not many from high-society families. Isn't it obvious that God deliberately chose men and women that the culture overlooks and exploits and abuses, chose these "nobodies" to expose the hollow pretensions of the "somebodies"? That makes it quite clear that none of you can get by with blowing your own horn before God. Everything that we have—right thinking and right living, a clean slate and a fresh start—comes from God by way of Jesus Christ. That's why we have the saying, "If you're going to blow a horn, blow a trumpet for God." (The Message)

Now there’s nothing wrong with intelligence or education. In fact, getting a good education is important for lots of reasons. I’m married to a very smart guy, and I’ll be pleased if my kids are smart. But it’s not the most important thing. You can be as smart as can be, but lack wisdom. You can have all the education in the world, and no common sense. I know some people whom most people would consider ignorant who have great wisdom and good sense. While I believe intelligence and education are some of God’s good gifts, I’d far rather have God’s kind of right thinking, the wisdom He promises to give if we just ask, with a heart of humility and love.

I Corinthians 13:2 says,

“If I…know all mysteries and all knowledge…but do not have love, I am nothing.” (NASB)

It’s good to know that God loves and values us all equally, whether we’re “the brightest and best” or whether we come from humble circumstances, whether we are smart or dumb, whether we’re well educated or not. It’s good to know that He loved the world, not just the smart people of the world. It’s good to know that He came to earth to be raised in a simple, common family, just like many of us. It’s good to know that when he looks at us, He’s not looking at our IQs, but our souls.

My House

Before we moved, when Billy suggested the idea of renting for a few years, I sat down and cried. I so wanted our own home. But I gave it to God, saw wisdom in the idea, and accepted it, even though I figured we'd have to downsize and live someplace less than ideal.


Well, God surprised me and gave us a home better than I could have imagined. I love this place, and I'm not anxious to leave. Sure, we'd like to buy a place some day, but for now, I'm loving it here. Here's a little peek at a couple of my favorite features in the living room.

French doors

Front door, inside the covered porch

Front door stained glass

I'm reminded of this poem. My home is certainly not a trial, but the trial was letting go of what I wanted and accepting what God wanted. His provision is so much better than anything I could have forced on my own!

In Acceptance Lieth Peace

In acceptance lieth peace, 0 my heart wilt thou be still, Let my restless worries cease, and I'll accept His will; Though this test be not my choice, It is His, therefore rejoice: In acceptance lieth peace, In acceptance lieth peace.

In this plan there cannot be Aught to make me sad; If this is His will for me, I'll take it and be glad, Make from it some lovely thing To the glory of my King, In acceptance lieth peace, In acceptance lieth peace.

Cease from sighs and murmurings, Sing His wondrous loving grace; Every trial brings furthering, For my celestial place; From my fears take His release, Joys and happiness increase; In acceptance lieth peace, In acceptance lieth peace. By Hannah Hurnard and Alberta Knoch

Out and About

The Dangerous Book for Boys is now available at Sam's, and we have our very own copy. Woohoo!!! Check out the video here. Love it.

Lindsey has a great 3-part article about learning to be content at home.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Anna has a short but oh-so-encouraging piece about homeschooling. She doesn't talk about homeschooling very much on her lovely blog, but recently her 15-year-old son Giles got a 33 on his ACT and received a full scholarship for this fall. This post was in response to some questions she received regarding her success as a homeschool mother. One of the most helpful things I've read in quite awhile.

Giles plans to be a photographer. You can see his amazing work on Anna's blog, and also on his own, here.

I met Mrs. Mobunny several years ago on a parenting message board (which I no longer visit; that's another story). Although we frequently "locked horns" in disagreement, I couldn't help but love her. She was always gracious and so likeable. She sent me a big box of little girls' patterns one time, which I still use. And recently she wrote a wonderful bit of teaching your sons to have a good work ethic. She begins:

We have been surrounded by cement for a majority of our married life. This means that our children have also been surrounded by the same thing. We have never lived on a farm, by a farm, or anything like a farm. We don't have a 2 acre garden, we don't raise llamas, we don't build fences for cattle and we don't have barb wire fences that need attention. We've never had chickens that needed a hen-house or a goat that needed a shed. The closest we've come to having 'animals' has been two bunnies in our back yard. And yes, when we had them, Daniel took care of them.

So, what do you do with boys that are not in an environment that causes them to run in flowery meadows with collie dogs, dig holes for fences or paint boats? You FIND things for them to do.

Near the end, she says:

So, don't do your boys a disservice by letting them lay around and read, watch TV, play video games, be idle, whine about the heat, or try to have them do domestic things to expel their energy. Boys need more than that. Don't cause them to be soft, don't allow them to prefer somebody else do the hard things.

The middle is worth reading. (By the way, I assume the part about tying sisters up is tongue in cheek...I can sure see my guy trying to do that...LOL)

I'm re-reading my battered softcover copy of Mama's Way by Thyra Ferre Bjorn. Beg, borrow, or steal--no, better not steal--a copy. It's a short and easy read, but one of the sweetest faith-building books I've ever read. She gets to the heart.

Last night I ran into a lady from church while I was trying to find my 6-year-old shoes that look like they should belong to a little girl and not like a, well, um...don't want to attract unsavory google hits...so I'll just say that I didn't want them to look too grown up, much less like something that should belong to an unwholesome grown-up. That started a conversation about modest dress, a passion we apparently share. This sweet young grandmother said, "Once, just out of curiosity, I googled 'modest clothing'. My word, it looked like something for the Amish!" She's right. It's hard to find something in the middle...Modest, but up-to-date. Here are a couple lovely companies that have stylish, modest options. Beautiful.

Christa Taylor (This company gives 30% of profits to Christian missions.)

Shade Clothing

On Dying and Living (Spiritually, That Is)

I absolutely love Debra's post, "The Mornings After You Die". She's such an inspiration as someone who is letting Jesus change her to look more and more like Him. Here's a snippet to whet your appetite.

Silly me... I think I forgot to tell you that I'm dying...

...to Self, that is. A slow, lingering death, actually.

Yep, I've been dying since 1994, the year I finally began allowing God to kill whole trash piles inside me. You know, those ugly, lopsided stacks of believing I know best... and speaking without thinking first... and being the grandest procrastinator upon Earth... and laziness, fearfulness, shyness... rebellion, discontentment and unforgiveness. You know, all that stuff which holds you down and back and makes God look bad if you're going around telling everyone you represent Him.

Go read it! So encouraging!

Fear Not

I’ve been thinking for the past couple weeks about how much God tells us to “fear not.” I’ve heard (though I haven’t actually counted myself) that the Bible tells us not to be afraid 366 times, one for each day of the year and an extra one for leap year.

I’ve always been given to fear. When I was a child it was a crippling, demonic, oppressive fear, and if you don’t believe in such things, all I can say is that you haven’t experienced it. God helped me to break free from this fear in my mid-teens and it’s only tried to come back a couple of times. A little of what TSK calls “spiritual kung-fu” sent it packing. If that sounds mystical, I don’t know how else to say it. It was worse than regular fear, something that could only be taken away supernaturally.

In addition to this creepy, satanic kind of fear, I had many other fears. I was afraid of invading armies (Russia? China? Muslim nations? I didn’t know, but I was scared of them.), economic collapse, persecution of Christians, death by fire and drowning, illegal aliens, being kidnapped, meeting new people, and doing pretty much anything that involved even the slightest amount of risk. I had many lesser fears about small, silly things. Fear pretty much ate up my whole life. I spent lots of years planning for all the what-ifs because I was so scared of what might happen. I was so afraid of the future that I totally missed the present in many cases.

I had an epiphany right after Billy and I got engaged. Billy asked me to marry him on December 4, 1999, right in the midst of the Y2K frenzy. I was terrified that we’d be separated forever and we’d never get to marry. I even bought us matching flip calendars so that if we couldn’t communicate we’d at least be reading the same thing each day. (Of course, if the end of the world ended as we knew it, both of us would be very concerned with making sure we flipped our little calendar each day. Yeah, that would be the most important thing on our agendas. That’s sarcasm, in case you couldn’t tell.) I know it sounds silly, but it’s a good illustration of how far my irrational fear had gone.

We were sitting on the porch talking about my fears and worries one day, when Billy gently said, “You know, that’s sin.” My word! The nerve of him! I was sure steamed. For a little while anyway. Then I realized he was right. That gentle confrontation helped me start to climb out of the fear pit I’d lived in for so many years. The Bible says that whatever is not of faith is sin. Fear and worry stand in direct contrast to faith and trust.

As it turned out, Y2K didn’t happen anyway, and we were married in March and lived happily ever after.

Except that after we married I was struck with a new kind of fear. Fear for Billy. And then for our babies, as they came along. That something would happen to them. Gory images filled my mind about all the “what-ifs”. I fretted constantly.

My fear became much less as I treated it as the sin that it was, but it still tried to show up in these and other areas.

Then my sweet friend Valerie sent me the little book Mama’s Way. I don’t know if I’ve ever told her how that book changed my life. In the first chapters, the author tells of her mother’s simple, childlike faith, that if she asked God for something, He would grant it. She told how her mother rested in the goodness of God, and how peaceful her life was. She painted a picture of the kind of person I want to grow into.

I still struggle with fear, but I can say that it doesn’t rule my life. When I’m tempted to fall into patterns of fearful thought, I remember that “God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power, love, and a sound mind.” If we are assaulted with fear, that is not of God. Fear doesn’t come from our Father, it comes from the father of lies, Satan, and it’s simply wrong to give into him. This is an area of growth for me. I hope that one day I’ll be free from it altogether; in the meantime, I look at it as an opportunity to become more and more like Jesus. This is part of my spiritual formation, an area in which God desires continued change. I lived in intense fear for so many years, that complete victory is taking time to achieve. Yet I’m so grateful that fear doesn’t have the stranglehold on me that it once did. Years from now I hope to look back and see how much improved I am compared to the way I am today.

A little P.S. If you struggle with fear or paranoia, do have a physical examination and research physical possibilities. Paranoia and anxiety are one symptom of hypothyroidism (and perhaps other ailments as well.) Sometimes a simple physical correction can help us become whole in emotional areas.