The Favorites

I have a favorite fork, spoon, & knife I like to use in our home. I know it sounds weird, but I do. They're solid whatever they're made out of (as opposed to the plastic attached to something colored silver that we have so much more of) and I don't know...more solid? As in, I don't have to worry about the fork breaking when I use it to cut a bite. Last night, I found myself ecstatic to be able to eat my cottage cheese with my favorite fork. Again, yes. Weird. I find myself only wanting to use these specific favorites, too. I thought about how much I enjoy these and then realized how glad I am that my Father doesn't have favorites. He uses every one of us and the talents He has given us! He uses us even when we're not quick to use our talents. He uses us even when we forget to use our talents. He uses us even when we don't know what those talents are. THIS is love, my friends. True, true Love.

Psalm 19

May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be pleasing to you, O LORD, my rock and my redeemer. Psalm 19:14 (NLT)

I've had the words to this song going 'round & 'round in my head the last few weeks, for more than a few reasons, I suppose. I've been singing to Caleb when trying to get him to sleep and this is one of my favorite standbys. I've been trying to teach the boys Scripture through song. I've been praying these words in trying to purify my words & thoughts. This last part is what has me coming back everytime, though and wow, is it convicting.

I do pretty well with my words. Well, for the most part. Except for those days when the kids get me goin' by not listening, doing things they know they're not supposed to do, and just pushing my buttons in general. What? That's everyday? Crap. OK, so maybe my words aren't so hot. Honestly, though, other than raising my voice to get three boys to listen, I might be okay (not saying this is ideal, just trying to be honest about where I am). I try to not say things I haven't thought through because words.can.hurt. The part that gets me here, though, is that my thoughts get the best of me. "The meditations of my heart" can be full of anger, judgment, and laziness. Oh how I long to make them pure & pleasing to Him. What would be better if my words & thoughts were all pleasing to God? My friendships? My mothering? My marriage?  So, so much more...

I've got work to do. How 'bout you?

"For Crying Out Loud!"

Yesterday, Colby was outside playing with our little daycare friend and I heard him saying, "For crying out loud!" (Yes, he is his mother's son.)  This morning, he said to Justin, "Are you kidding me?!" Of course, he doesn't really know what these phrases really mean but what made me laugh was to see him mentally prepare to say these phrases out loud, say them, and then feel more comfortable to say them over and over again. 

I remember, as a child, being intimidated by my dad. If Dad said "No", there was no turning back so I usually tried my mom first. I grew out of this eventually and became more comfortable talking to my father...it felt a bit more normal each time I did.

Both of these thoughts have something to do with prayer and worship habits, don't they? Raising my hands in worship is still a bit out of the norm for me but each time I do becomes more and more comfortable. Asking my Father for outrageous things seems selfish sometimes...but each time I do, I'm reminded that He wants to hear these requests from me and I'm encouraged to do it again. I'm always grateful He hears my prayers, but I wonder...does He smile & chuckle when I finally try to worship or ask Him something in a new way? :)

Sweet Babblings

Our Dub has a language all his own right now. Sometimes you know what he's talking about, most times you have to try to glean little bits from the words that come out. He'll come up, talk for minutes at a time sometimes, (most of it baby gibberish, if not all) and walk away confident in what he has told you. Those who are around him often know that "d" means he wants a drink, "guk" is milk, and "kiki" would be his beloved blankie. Of course, that's not always possible...he occasionally has a babysitter who hasn't spent a lot of time with him and has to spend time trying to decipher the babbling. I get a text randomly from these people..."What's he talking about?" and can usually help them on their way.

I do this sometimes with my Father. I don't know always know how to pray or the words come out all jumbled as if I can't process what's in my heart. Those moments of grief when you can't put into words what you're feeling? Yep, those have come, too. God has an interpreter, though! I am so thankful that in those times where I can't compose the words to pray, the Holy Spirit does it for me...passing on my cares to the Lord. Praise the God who hears every one of the prayers we pray!

Quiet Mornings

I love, LOVE my quiet morning time...time before anyone else in the house is awake, before extra kids arrive, before needing to communicate with the rest of the world. Some days I workout first, some days I just relax on the couch or in bed...get my drift?

I thought this morning about how peaceful that time is--time when I can talk to God about what's going on in my heart, pray for my husband, my family, for friends' requests, for wisdom to know what else I can do to honor Him and those I love.

Then came the craziness. :) Two kids came for the day, we ate breakfast, Colby got up & ate, kids started playing (LOUDLY, I might add...didn't get that Veggie Tales' in the player in time), husband left for work, Caleb got up...frustration comes & goes despite the "Joy of the Lord is my strength" song going 'round & 'round in my head. Oh, how I long to go back to that time just an hour or two before.

But that's not how it works. In all of my selfish desires for constant peace, it doesn't happen and it can't happen--God didn't create us for that. It makes me smile (and honestly, inwardly groan at times) to know that true peace comes from knowing that God has the "not so peaceful" times in His hands and works every.single.one out for His glory. Praise God for that!

"Moooooom, I'm still HUNgry!", he says. "Yes, child, let's find another snack, (right after I sing that Joy song a few more times again today)..."

Great Post

I found this link somewhere on Facebook today and would invite you to read it...

Open Letter from a Pastor's Wife

In case you've ever wanted to know!

It's a Battlefield Somedays

I went to workout early Friday morning. (And when I say early, I mean early early, as in workout starts at 5:30 in the morning early and I have to get up early enough to wake up and eat breakfast--among other things--before I leave.) It was a great workout, a hard workout that had me really contemplating if I honestly chose to put myself through that torture before the sun came up. Somewhere in between the 12th and 13th set of squats and 3rd set of burpees, I heard the lyrics to "Battlefield" by Jordin Sparks and I truly felt myself having to battle whether or not I could finish. The words were Why does love always feel like a battlefield, a battlefield, a battlefield? It replayed over and over in my head throughout the rest of the set and during the next short rest session, I was overcome with emotion. A picture played in my head--the young man talking us through the workout that morning perhaps, my brother, or pictures we see on the news everyday--of a soldier in battle gear fighting for my freedom. Then I thought of how hard I felt I had it...working my body to get in shape and be healthy, battling temptations of overeating. Finally, a picture of my Savior battling and pleading with his Father the night of his arrest.

I don't battle. Not like I think I do and probably not as much as I'd like you to think I do.  Physical battles, nuh-uh. My physical battles don't compare to the fights our heroes fight daily on the warfront. They would probably be offended to hear my comparison to battle through my workout and their efforts for my freedom. Oh, there are temptations that creep up--whether or not I'll succumb to the temptations to eat things I don't really want to, doing good instead of ignoring the opportunity, having joy instead of choosing bitterness--but do I really, I mean really battle anything close to the spiritual battle Jesus endured? Nope.

This is mostly a lot of word vomit (as my friend Amy would call it), lots of rambling on, but I guess one thing I thought of tonight as I'm trying to get it out of my head is that no matter the battle I'm enduring, God still cares. I sought to start memorizing this verse this week: 1Corinthians 10:13-"No temptation has seized you except what is common to man. But God is faithful." What hope!  What promise!  I'm tempted to stp there because it's so reassuring and peaceful. But!  Paul goes on--"He will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear.  But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can stand up under it."  He does care and God doesn't want us to sin when we're battling against it--whether "big" or "little" sins, He gives us a way to endure.

So, needless to say, I finished the workout and was, of course, glad I did. Kind of like when I choose God instead of that sin I'm battling. Thankful for His Word, His Promises, and the daily reminders of what a real battle looks like.

Just a little of what's going on in my head this week. :)