Broken

So. Much. Broken. Glass.

This week I have broken 3 things--a coffee mug, a juice glass, and a bowl. Normally I can go months, even years without breaking stuff. Not this week.

I grew accustomed to the sound of breaking glass while working in the dining hall & kitchen at Mount Hermon Conference Center back in '99. Seemed things were always getting dropped and broken. Finally, my friend Skye said, "I think we're supposed to pray for brokenness."

The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, You will not despise (Psalm 51:17). And in the Hebrew, the word broken means

crushed

destroyed

hurt

quenched.

So when I broke that juice glass yesterday--the third time this week that I've had to gather up the jagged pieces--Skye's words came to me again and I thought, "It's time to pray for brokenness."

I don't grieve my sin the way that I should. I can easily downplay it in my mind since my rap sheet isn't as long as the next guy's. But my sin grieves the heart of my God, so it should break my heart as well. The selfishness, the pride, the lack of self-discipline and self-control, and the constant battle in my heart to surrender to a God whose ways are not my own (and thank goodness for that)--even one of these offenses created a cavernous void between my God and me, and had Christ not come in on my behalf to die for those sins, they would separate me from Him eternally. A precious price was paid on my behalf, and it had to be paid because of my sin. My rebellion. My "wanna go my own way."

Lord, you do not reject or despise the one whose heart breaks over sin. Instead, You come to put the shattered pieces back together. You are all about binding up the brokenhearted. Thank You for forgiving my sins--I can get so self-righteous and don't thank You nearly enough for doing what I really, desperately needed You to do on my behalf.

Skinned-Up Knees

Lately Aila thinks it's super fun to take off running down the street whenever it's time to load up into the car.

Seeing as how I end up chasing her down said street, I disagree about the fun part.

Today she was already two houses down when she tripped and fell, skinning up those cutie-pie little knees of hers. I scooped up my weeping little one in my arms and loved on her as I carried her back home to bandage up the owies.

How many times have I been running in the wrong direction with my God in pursuit of me? How often have I tripped and fallen along the way? And how often has He scooped me up, loved on me and bandaged up my wounds? More times than I can count.

But here's the thing: Aila still bears the marks of running away on her tiny legs. The evidence is right there beneath her Fairy Friends bandaid--a painful reminder of her run down the road--and a wound I did not want her to have to wear.

Even with my sin, failures, and selfish pursuits, I am clothed with redemption, forgiveness, and love. And yet underneath that robe of renewal, I wear bandaids. And beneath the bandaids, wounds that are healing--evidence that I tried to run away. I am forgiven completely and loved unreservedly. I don't doubt for a moment that He has taken my sin away from me as far as the east is from the west. But there are consequences of being on any path but the one on which He wants me to be.

I hope that tomorrow when we head out to the car, Aila will remember her scraped-up knees and resist the urge to take off running. But far more than that, I hope that as I walk in grace, I will remember the consequences of running away and choose to stay right by His side instead.

I don't want any more bandaids under my renewal robe, but more importantly, He doesn't want me to have to wear them.

Unrecognizable

Sometimes things look nothing like they should.

Today we were at the doctor for Aila's well visit, and they had dot-to-dot worksheets there so I grabbed one to do with Trevor. He needed a lot of help, and he pretty much held the pen and drew lines from number to number. I told him where to go next, and he drew the lines.

Unfortunately, he took a lot of liberties while drawing the lines from number to number, and this was the result:

"What is it?" Trevor asked me excitedly when we finished. The problem was that I didn't know what to tell him. I wasn't able to recognize it for what it was.

Determined to solve the mystery, I grabbed another dot-to-dot sheet on the way out of the doctor's office and when I got home, I did it myself (sans the help of a 4-year old boy). Here was the result:

As I stared at the paper, it hit me. Sometimes we take so many liberties with the commandments we've been given to love, that the end result doesn't look anything like love.

Love is:

calling to say you'll be late
showing her mercy
rooting for them
using gentle hands

speaking truth

saying, "I'm sorry"
picking up the pieces when their worlds shatter

praying over him

forgiving wrongs

taking the opportunity to say what needs to be heard

building up with words

spending time

motivated by another's good

serving him the bigger piece
speaking well to/about them

Love is not:

making him feel like his efforts aren't sufficient

berating them for spilling the juice
indifference

drudging up the past

sarcastic words

neglect

avoiding that difficult-to-love person

Believe me, I'm anything but an authority on this. This past week LOVE has been on my heart, and surprisingly enough, it has nothing to do with all the Valentine's Day stuff everywhere I go. I think it started when I saw someone who has in the past sapped me and taken, taken, taken without a thing to give. And when I saw her I thought, "I don't have it in me today" and headed in the opposite direction. I am extremely UNPROUD of that. Because yes, boundaries are appropriate, but LOVE is far more so. And as I spent the rest of the day (and this week) considering what love is, I've come to conclusion that love just doesn't do stuff like that.

I can take all kinds of liberties when it comes to the call to love. I can justify all kinds of UN-love. But I don't want my Heavenly Father looking down on my life, thinking to Himself, "That's supposed to be love? I don't see it." Oh, that my marriage would look like love. Especially to Justin. And that the way I treat my children would be recognizable as love. Especially to Trevor and Aila. And that what I have for others would be love--not something so far from it that it's unrecognizable.

I want to love well, but perhaps I have a long way to go.

Lord, thank You for Your example of love--greater love hath no man than the One who gave His life for His friends.

Kickoff Highlights

What a night! Let me first say that when I came down off the platform Friday night, I easily could've curled up on the front row and fallen asleep. Still jet-lagged and weary from preparing, I was exhausted...but elated.
Exhausted is why I haven't yet written an update. Elated is why I'm so excited to do so now.

First, I was in the prayer room when Jodi and several women from Cobb Vineyard came in to pray. And as they were praying (which in itself was pretty powerful), I heard the worship team practicing in the sanctuary. And they were practicing "The Stand." It was several months ago that I was at North Star and heard just the bridge of "The Stand," but the words were SO in line with what God was already putting on my heart that I prayed that if I had the chance to do a kickoff, I would love to close with that song as a call to commitment. So everything was in place to do so, and I knew the worship team would be able to close with that song. But it was amazing to be praying only minutes before the kickoff as that very song was the backdrop of our prayers. It just blew me away that this vision the Lord had given was really coming to pass--He made the way, and allowed us the joy of just getting to walk in it.

Another highlight was after I had spoken--I came down and sat in the front row by myself as "The Stand" began. Beautiful, powerful worship. I had my eyes closed, and then when those words came...

I'll stand with arms high and heart abandoned

in awe of the One who gave it all

I'll stand--my soul, Lord, to You surrendered

All I am is Yours

...I opened my eyes to see the shadows of so many hands raised. I will never forget that image in my mind. I wanted so badly to grab my camera that was at my feet and capture the moment, but then I realized, "Is there even a chance I would actually forget this?" So the camera remained at my feet, but the image is burned into my heart.

Then on Saturday my friend Teresa said that during one of the stories I shared, a girl near her began to weep. Then Teresa saw that at the end during the call to an "Arms Raised" life, the girl held up her hands, but her friend next to her came behind her and held up her hands for her. Awesome.

I really believe the Holy Spirit had his hand in that whole night. Such love was poured into every part of the kickoff--planning, set-up, worship, everything. As an added bonus, my mother-in-law Ali was down from Boston and was able to be there. Other friends were there as well, which meant so much.

There were also previews of the studies being offered, and I had goosebumps watching those. I am so excited to get going on this next season of studies and see what awaits!!!

The Day Before You

Two years ago today, I was DONE. Like, stick-a-fork-in-me done.

I'd felt like I had been pregnant for about a year. But it was just that I was nearing the end of my second pregnancy in a year's time. 10 months earlier, we were blindsided with a missed miscarriage, and then happily shocked 8 weeks later to learn I was pregnant again. And I could not wait to hold THIS child in my arms.

I knew I was at least close, but at the end of this high-risk, too-many-concerns-and-scares pregnancy, "close" just didn't feel close enough. My due date was 15 days away, but I really, truly, honestly didn't feel like I could go that many more days before holding my baby girl. I spent that day praying and crying and worshipping, but I was READY for her. I told the Lord, "I honestly don't think I can wait any longer to have her here in my arms."

And the next day, she was.

I think of January 23rd as my "Day Before You" with Aila. I've got one for Justin (July 13, 2000--the day before I met him), and for Trevor (February 13, 2005--the day before I found out I was pregnant). With Aila, it was the day before her birth. Because we'd been on a long road. A long road.

Some of us are still in the "hope deferred" category, or to put it simply, we're in a WAIT. I was there on July 13, 2000, February 13, 2005, and January 23, 2008. But I was ONE DAY AWAY from being in the "longing fulfilled" category and I didn't even know it.

I love that about hope. We can be in the middle of a WAIT, but we never know when we might be walking through a "Day Before You,"--Just one day shy of our wait ending. We never know when God is primed and ready to blow things wide open and FULFILL. And always in ways that are "immeasurably more than all we could ask or imagine" (Eph. 3:20).

Happy birthday tomorrow, my beautiful Aila Grace. You were absolutely, positively worth the wait!

(Last two photos by Jeff Hayes, Turlock, CA -- jeffstrade.com)

Hot Potato

Lord, let me ascribe to You the glory due Your name. You have so clearly shown me that Your glory in my hands is as a hot potato; If I quickly pass along all praise to You, I will be kept safe. But should I hold it too long...

...it will burn me.

You are awesome, God, and You are too vast, too immeasurable, too majestic to share Your glory with another. Keep my hands from grabbing at Your glory.

Time to Ask For Prayer

Good morning from the West Coast!


Okay, I'm going to ask for some prayer. Cobb Vineyard Church's TWL Kickoff is in 6 days and even though I've really been preparing, I have SO MUCH these next few days and will have far less opportunity to go over my teaching--the days when I would most want to be able to prepare.


And so I'm calling out for a God Stretch.


Would you be so gracious to just stop right now and call out for my efforts to be sufficient--for Him to take what I've offered up and what I will offer up and allow His favor to rest on it all? I really have a heart for these women--most of whom I have never met--and I feel burdened to share this teaching with excellence. I just don't want to get in the way. I actually praise Him for this feeling of weakness, because I know it's a chance for HIS power to be shown perfect. And yet I don't like this feeling of wishing this week held more opportunities to prepare. So I'm calling out for prayer.


I'm in California for a few days, having an awesome and important time with loved ones. I know I'm right where I need to be in these days. But I also want to feel ready for the task at hand. This time of rest is legitimate, and this time has truly been blessed. But "next week" has become "this week" and I want to do what I've been given the opportunity to do in a way that brings glory to His name.


Thanks for your prayers. :)

Roddy's Story (Worth your time, I promise!)

Need some inspiration and encouragement today? Keep reading! This story SO stirred my heart yesterday, and I just HAD to share this with you.

Yesterday in church a guy named Roddy Chong came to play violin. I did the announcements in church so we were all in the green room ahead of the service, but I didn't have a chance to formally meet him. So we all went out for the start of the service, and Roddy opened the service with an AMAZING performance--that's when I realized this wasn't some amateur violinist.

Next, he shared a few minutes of his story. His mom made him start playing the violin at age 2, and now he sees how the Lord was using those tedious lessons and practice sessions to unfold His will in Roddy's life.

SO...at a particularly low time, Roddy had prayed and asked the Lord to be his "agent," so to speak, to open doors for him to play since he didn't have an agent. It was 2am and Roddy was driving in his car when he heard a song on the radio--a beautiful voice and a violin. Roddy had never heard the song before, but was moved to tears as he sat and listened. And when the song was over, Roddy felt like the Lord was giving him a glimpse of things to come:

"YOU WILL PLAY THAT SONG WITH THAT GIRL."

So he practiced that song and prepared just in case he ever had the opportunity to do so. Now TAKE A LOOK AT THIS (it gives me chills)--Praise God!

I talked to Roddy after the service and tried to communicate just how powerful his story had been to me. I don't even know why it hit me so much, but I felt the Holy Spirit stirring in my heart like crazy. And he told me that just 2 weeks ago, he wasn't even sure if he should still make the trip (he flew in from Chicago). But I KNOW the Lord ordered Roddy's steps. I was meant to hear his story yesterday, and I'm sure I'm not the only one.

This is where Justin would jump in and quip, "Do you think you're supposed to audition to play violin for Celine Dion too?" Um, no. And I don't know why I was so moved by the story. But I was.

Hope it blesses you today!

I Didn't Want This!

I remember the first time I colored my hair. Not fondly, I might add.

My friend Megan used to color her hair all the time, and tried for months to convince me to color my hair. A few months later I caved and said she could color my hair, but I sneakily chose the hair dye that most closely matched my natural color. After all, I was born to be blonde!

So back at Megan's house, she applied her hair dye and then proceeded to help me with mine.
I SHOULD HAVE BEEN ALARMED when, after applying the color to my hair, Megan turned her head to the side and had a strange look on her face as she stared at my hair. But then she shrugged and went off to rinse out her own hair, so I assumed everything was okay.

It was NOT. So when Megan emerged from the bathroom after rinsing her hair, she took one look at my hair and her eyes got just way too big . The next thing I knew, she grabbed me, threw my head in a sink and began rinsing and apologizing...just rinsing and apologizing.

So it turns out that somebody had opened my BLONDE Loreal hair dye box at the store and swapped the dye out for some BURGUNDY-ISH Clairol hair dye. And we never even noticed until it was too late.

We drove way too quickly over to Walmart to try to get some sort of a refund, and I was so upset that when I got up to the customer service desk with my still-wet burgundy hair, all I could bring myself to do was point to my head and cry, "I didn't want this!" And the lady behind the counter said sympathetically, "Oh, Honey--I don't want that for you either!"

It took well over a year until my hair was somewhat normal again, including my hair being dyed a highly unnnatural looking platinum blonde color to strip the burgundy color, and then a brownish auburn color at one point to deal with the roots. It was just one really big catastrophe, to say the least!

I think of the times when my ignorance or negligence or even my conscious decisions have left me with a mess, sometimes with lingering consequences. And I've taken my big mess to the Lord and tearfully declared, "I didn't want this!" And you know what He always seems to say in response?

"My beloved, I didn't want that for you either."

So what DOES He have in mind for us? I'm sure you've read this a hundred times, but please try to read it with new eyes. This is His heart for you and for me:

"I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." Jeremiah 29:11

All Set to Save the World

This morning Jack tried to squeeze behind the couch and got stuck, so Trevor ran into the kitchen, and grabbed a Target plastic bag to use as a super hero cape so he could go rescue Jack. He asked me to help him put it on, and after I tucked his arms into the handles I said, "Now you're all set to save the world!"

Oh, how my heart is compelled to gird that boy up with what he needs to go out into this world. I know he's not the one to save the world, but I am hungry to see him speak of the One who came to save the world, and to proclaim Him by the way he lives.

I wish I could be the perfect mom. I am so NOT. But I am desperate to give both Trevor and Aila everything they need (read: JESUS) in these years that I have them under my roof, that they may go out that door one day to spend the rest of their days bringing glory to our God and knowing Him intimately. And when they go out from here, I want to kiss them goodbye completely covered with the peace that I showed them Jesus and covered them with everything they'll need to make an impact on their corner of the world.

Slow Cooker

This morning I was putting some chicken in the crockpot for tonight's dinner. I love my crockpot because I can stick a bunch of ingredients in it, walk away, and--voila--dinner's ready several hours later. And the chicken is so tender, you could cut it with a plastic spoon.

The beauty of the crockpot is that you don't have to think about it all day, but for some reason, I did. Several times today.

I kept thinking about how that slow, multi-hour process yields something tender. I can certainly cook chicken in a lot less than 6 hours, but it's not nearly as tender.

I can be a pretty impatient person. Mostly with my own "work-in-progress" status. I don't like waiting, I don't like going through the process. I'd rather skip the steps, rush the deal, and fast-forward through it all. And at the end, I just want to be the woman God wants me to be. I just don't want to have to wait for it.

And yet I know that the long process, the waiting--these things make my heart tender. One of the longest waits of my life was for our second child. I was ready for Baby #2 when Trevor was about 6 months old. Well, 2 years, a miscarriage, and a high-risk pregnancy later, I held Aila Grace in my arms. The waiting process held everything from praying to crying to hoping, and required of me a level of trust and faith that didn't come naturally to me. But the waiting, the slow process, produced a tenderness in me that couldn't have happened any other way.

And it couldn't have been sped up with the same results.

Think back to the things that came to you without a wait. Now think of that "something" or those "somethings" that required you to hang out in a wait. And think of how the Lord was able to do a work in your heart through the process that just plain had to unfold over time in order to accomplish what He purposed to take place IN YOU. Have you ever noticed that when things come quickly or easily, it's easier to take them for granted? But when something costs you a long wait, it seems the outcome is a tender heart that cannot contain its gratitude. When Aila was born, I got to hold her for a moment, and then they took her for a few minutes to wrap her up and take care of her, and I just sat there saying outloud, "I am so grateful. I am so grateful." Words that flowed from a heart made tender while walking the long road of a "wait."

Let patience have its perfect work, that you may be perfect and entire, wanting nothing (not lacking anything). James 1:4

So when you and I are hanging out in the smack dab middle of a slow-cooker kind of process, it won't work to try and crank up the heat to speed things up.

Because the results just aren't the same.

On the Doorframes of Your House

This is my front door. You might completely miss what's above it, but it's been there for the nearly 7 years that we've lived in our house, so if you've been in our home, there was a blessing over you when you left...

And here is the close-up version. My January 2nd post, Her Legacy, was all about my friend Evelyn and how she (literally) wrote truth on the doorframes of her house.


I remember when we were house hunting, I was totally ready to buy this one house that was itty bitty and in an odd location--all because it had Scripture all over the place in there. We didn't buy that house, but I have always LOVED Deuteronomy 6:5-9 (see below). I was thinking about all of this today and it made me wonder what truths I've scattered around our home, so I went on a hunt and this is what I found.


The living room...

...the kitchen...

Trevor's room...

Aila's room...

...our bedroom.

Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength. These commandments that I give you today are to be upon your hearts. Impress them on your children. Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up. Tie them as symbols on your hands and bind them on your foreheads. Write them on the doorframes of your houses and on your gates.

~ Deuteronomy 6:5-9~

Be glorified, Lord, as we set Your truth before our eyes in this house.

Why Isn't it Working?

Just in time for my New Year's resolution of continuing to drop the baby weight (especially since my "baby" is about to turn 2), I got Jillian Michaels' workout DVD "30 Day Shred." I brought it home and put it with my other DVDs and waited for the pounds to melt away and for my rock-hard abs and my buns of steel to emerge.

And yet nothing changed. "I spent eight bucks on that workout DVD. Why isn't it working?" I wondered.

Turns out you have to pull it off the shelf and USE IT in order to see results.

Sounds like a no-brainer, but there's something else that we tend to think will bring about a transformation just by having it in the house. We feel good having a Bible on the bookshelf for some reason, as though its truth will be able to penetrate our hearts as it collects dust.

So anyway, I finally took the DVD off the shelf and began my journey to having the perfect body (Okay, I'm laughing out loud right here). And the first time I did that video I gasped for breath and cried out to Justin, "Tell the children I love them!!!" Okay, I'm being dramatic. But it was a stretch for me, I will say. But it's becoming less of a stretch, more normal. And I'm seeing a transformation.

The same thing happened when I started to drag myself out of bed to get into the Word in the mornings. It was unpleasant at first to get up earlier and sacrifice that "warm under my covers" time in the morning that I so cherish. But in time it became normal. And then normal turned to NECESSARY. I can't NOT be in the Word now--I am too hungry for the collision between my heart and His truth.

And I'm seeing a transformation.

Her Legacy

13 years ago today, Heaven welcomed Evelyn, a woman who was all about making Kingdom dents in this world as she passed through. She suffered with Chronic Progressive Multiple Scelerosis for 7 years, but in the few months I knew her, her only "complaint" was that at times her eyesight wasn't sufficient enough to read her Bible.



Shortly before her death, I spent a lot of time chatting with her, and listened to her longing to leave a lasting legacy. But I think one of the things I'll remember most about Evelyn was her front door.



Her front door? Isn't that kind of an odd thing to remember about someone?



Well, with MS, Evelyn had good days and bad days. And by the time I met her, a good day was one where she felt strong enough to be removed from the hospital bed that had taken up residence in her bedroom, and taken out to the living room to sit in her wheel chair. And on one of her "good days," she was out in her living room and took out a sharpie and wrote a blessing right onto her front door. Her handwriting wasn't quite as lovely as it had once been, but the words she wrote were beautiful:



"You will go our in JOY and be led forth in PEACE.

The mountains and hills will burst into song before you,

and all the trees of the fields will clap their hands.

Instead of the thornbush will grow the pine tree,

and instead of briers the myrtle will grow.

This will be for the Lord's renown,

for an everlasting sign which will not be destroyed."



Isaiah 55:12-13



She wrote these words to be a covering and blessing over her husband, son and daughter every time they walked out the door. But her whole life was about praying over them, serving them, and loving them. What a legacy.



It made me think about the legacy I want to leave. Guess that will be my next post.

"What Do You Say?"

It's one of my missions in life to raise children who say their pleases and thank yous. Aila says her little "Kick-you, Mommy" when I hand her her breakfast, which warms my heart. And Trevor is great with the "please" part of the deal, but then the moment he has what he wants, he's off like a flash, and I have to go after him with those token parent words: "What do you say?" Then he thanks me and is off to, I don't know, play with trains probably.

Makes me think of the way that I (maybe we) pray. We're SO good at the petitions, but lacking in the praise that should follow answered prayer. Please Lord, help me. Please Lord, heal me. Guide me Provide for me Bless me Protect me Show me Defend me Make a way for me. Boy, I can rattle those requests off like rapid fire, can't you?

And yet we're told to ask--even that we have not because we ask not! But when the Lord helps, heals, guides, provides, blesses, protects, shows, defends, and makes a way, sometimes I find myself so eager to get back to the stuff of life that I forget to be in awe of the One who delights in giving good gifts to His children. I think of myself of being mindful of what I have, and I feel very content. I don't at all spend my life wishing for more. But do I actually camp out and sort of dwell in a place of gratitude? Maybe not as I should.

I included this picture because I think I can be a lot like my 4-year old--quick to ask, politely even, but perhaps slower to thank.

Lord Jesus, fill my heart with thanks so that it can't contain it all and pours out of me. Let gratitude overwhelm me, and let me speak words of praise for every single providence.

"You turned my wailing into dancing,

You removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy,

that my heart may sing to You and not be silent.

O LORD, my God, I will give You thanks forever."

Psalm 30:11-12

525,600 Minutes (Ministry)

That song from "Rent" is running through my mind today (and now yours, too!)--and I'm just considering how I spent the 525,600 minutes of 2009 as it pertains to ministry outside my family--I'll do my family assessment over on our family blog. So was the Kingdom advanced in the way I spent my 525,600 minutes? At all?

I invited people to church, but they never came. I didn't lead anyone to Christ outside my family. But I was very intentional. I used phone calls, emails, Facebook, and these blogs to speak words of encouragement and truth over believers and those who have not yet chosen to follow. I prayed the Lord would show me who needed a word of blessing, and then I spoke it. I asked who needed a word of truth, and then I spoke it. And I asked the Lord to multiply my offerings in all of this. But the hard thing about this is that, at the end of the year when I am trying to see what the worth of this is, it's kind of hard to even know. It's not something that can be measured, I guess--at least not by me.

Maybe you're like me and can feel discouraged if this year came and went, and nobody decided to come to church with you, and you didn't lead anyone to Christ. But that doesn't mean that Kingdom stuff isn't happening.

I will say that 2009 was the year that I became reacquainted with my Bible and fell in love with the Word in a new way. And I know that is priceless. I am equipped with truth in a way I wasn't a year ago, and hopefully I can say the same a year from now, too--that I will have hidden even more away in my heart, and that I will have shared it with others, too.


"525,600 minutes...525,000 journeys to plan.
525,600 minutes, how do you measure the life of a woman or a man?
IN TRUTHS THAT SHE LEARNED
or the tears that she cried
in the bridges that burned
or the way that she died."

"Seasons of Love" from the RENT soundtrack

Oh, Great. A Front Yard Veggie Garden.

I remember it far too well--the scene that still gives me nightmares. Several months ago I looked out the window and saw Justin and Trevor planting vegetables. In our front yard.



It's not like we live on a farm. No, we live in a normal neighborhood with a very picky Homeowner's Association. I just didn't see this going well. I was told that soon we'd have tomatoes, squash, even pumpkins sprouting up right next to our front walkway. Ooh, marvelous--a pumpkin patch in our front yard. I could just envision families coming to take pictures--all we needed was a tractor for hayrides!



ANYWAY, I secretly kept hoping that nothing would grow from those seeds. And at first I was optimistic, because nothing was popping up. Until one day I saw little green sprouts, and my heart sank. It wasn't long before there were big, huge veggie vines in my front yard. Veggie vines! Couldn't have been daisies or daffodils or tulips--had to be veggie vines.



And why wouldn't there be? After all, vegetable seeds were planted, so vegetables were growing. Why should I expect any other outcome?



And yet there are times in my life when I scatter sinful seeds of things I hope won't take root, won't yield anything. But then I wait expectantly for everything to come up roses. How my heart will sink when I see those little green sprouts that are anything but beautiful. Those seeds HAVE taken root, and they're producing something.



And yet in the same way when I pray for Justin or when I speak the Word of God over my children, I'm casting seeds there, too. And I can trust that we will see the evidence of that sowing process. Isaiah 55:10-11 say, "As the rain and the snow come down from heaven and do not return to it without watering the earth, making it bud and flourish, so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater, so is my word that goes out from my mouth; it will not return to me empty, but will accomplish what I desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it." All of this sowing of seeds--it will yield something. It won't return empty.

That Won't All Fit on a Nametag

When we meet people, the first thing we do is tell them who we are.

But that's just a name.

What if we had to expound a bit more? What would we say?

I have believed a very specific lie about myself over the last 10, 15 years. It has been a battle, it will be a battle. But it's a battle to be fought with the truth. Though the lie is specific, I'll be a bit more general and say that I have believed that I am not "enough," I guess, to reflect well on others. But I was wrong.

The Lord brought me to Isaiah 60-62 to tell me who I am. But I'll be honest, exposing those hurts to the truth was a bit like pouring peroxide on an open cut. A year ago I was going through Beth Moore's "Breaking Free" study and when I came to a day about how the Lord thinks we are beautiful, I didn't even want to do that lesson. My family had always made me feel lovely, but I encountered 3 people in high school and college who had told me otherwise. Loudly and emphatically, each in his own way. I had listened to lying lips who had told me all that I am NOT, and so I wasn't sure I even wanted the light to meet the darkness that had been there for so long. But finally after 3 days of avoiding it and the Lord beckoning me gently to seek His truth on the matter, I sat down and read the words, over and over. I had to (and still have to) choose to no longer believe I am less than "altogether lovely." And I cried. It DID hurt to face it. But then healing began. And so even though the beauty of these truths can still be hard to receive by one who has believed otherwise for far too long, this is truth. And I need to say it outloud, daily, and over and over again.

I'm Thea Sayers Sperry Nelson, but I am so much more...

* I am a branch He has planted, the work of His hands, for the display of His splendor (Is. 60:21). That means that I was planted and established, basically put here to show off His glory.

* I am an oak of righteousness, a planting of the Lord to display His splendor (Is. 61:3). Again, for whatever reason, I am here to reflect His splendor. He has not kept me hidden in a corner or been ashamed to be seen with me, but has made ME to show who HE is.

* I am a crown of splendor in the Lord's hand--a royal diadem in the hand of my God (Is. 62:3). Once again, His splendor is displayed on me!

* He summoned me by name and said to me, "You are Mine" (Is. 43:1). He called me by name and said I am His own. He didn't reject me--He claimed me!

So when I meet someone and tell them who I am, they'll get the nutshell version: "Hi, I'm Thea." But in my heart I know that, in Him, I am so much more. A lot more than I'll ever be able to fit on a nametag.

Pardon Me, But There's a Roach in My Happy Story

I remember when Cheryl, a woman from my old church, told me how she had met her husband. It certainly wasn't your typical "Boy meets girl" scenario...

Apparently, she was at a restaurant and saw a roach crawl across her salad. Not being a fan of bugs, she screamed, jumped up, turned around to run away and plowed into some guy who happened to be walking behind her chair at that moment.

She ended up marrying that guy.

When I heard this I said, "I cannot believe there is a roach in your happy story!" But she didn't seem to care. After all, she was pretty happy with the ultimate outcome.

So tonight for no particular reason I was thinking back to all of this and realized that pretty much ANY story I've heard of blessing, redemption, providence, and God's mercies has included waiting, hardship, and pain--a "roach" in the mix, so to speak.

What about Hannah, who waited years without bearing a child, all the while being taunted and tormented by an unkind (and super-fertile) woman? Even one of those things would be plenty to endure, but she faced both. But God remembered Hannah, and she bore a son.

Or how about Job, who suffered the loss of his livestock, his family, and was afflicted with sores from head to toe--sure, the Lord blessed him with double at the end of it all, but what devastation he endured! I'm sure it seemed nothing good could come from all of that being part of the story.

Even the story of the end of Jesus' life had a "roach" in the mix, to put it mildly: Accusations, crucifixion, and ultimately the death of the One in whom many had come to believe. Everyone was left standing there wondering, "What just happened?" But Sunday was coming.

Perhaps you're on the other side of a wait, a hardship, a trial, and you can look back at the "roach" in the salad. And NOW you can recognize it as the thing that ushered you into a place where you could receive the mercies, the providence, the blessings.

But maybe you're not there yet. Maybe you're sitting down to a roach in your salad, and you can't see how anything good can come from it, and the whole situation is just crappy, for a lack of a better word.

I know it's hard. But be on the lookout for your story to change--perhaps when you least expect it to. That roach in your salad might just send you running smack dab into something immeasurably more than all you could ask or imagine.

A Little "Seen" and a Lot of "Unseen"

Today Trevor was playing in the front yard and drew my attention to a weed by the tree. "Don't touch that," he warned. "It's thorny!" So I went inside and got something with which to dig up the weed. I kept pulling and pulling and pulling to finally end up with a 2-inch weed with a 77-inch root!!


I just feel like there are so many spiritual connections here:


* Sometimes a thorny weed has far more fueling it than we could ever begin to imagine.


* What is seen (this life and all it encompasses) is so very small compared to what it unseen (eternity). So why on earth do we live life according to 2 measly inches when 77+ await us?


*There are times that the Lord is up to great things--wide, long, high, and deep things rich with His love and His glory. And yet we assume He's up to nothing as we stand there staring at a stump of a weed.



Any others? Post a comment! :)