I DON'T KNOW BETTER

Hume Lake Winter Camp.  10th grade.  Big hair matted down under snow hats.  Pegged jeans a-plenty.

My best friend Kelly and I were in the front row for church camp when the worship leader led us through a familiar song--but in an unfamiliar way.  He sang our church group favorite "Ain't Nobody" in a slightly different rhythm than our youth group band usually did.

Kelly and I looked at each other with wrinkled noses and said, "He's singing it all wrong!"  And then, being the super awesome (and mature!) 15-year olds we were, we began to sing the song the way we were used to singing it.  Loudly.  And only a few feet in front of the worship leader.  

Later, we mentioned to our youth pastor how the worship leader had totally messed up the song. 

"Well, that's interesting, seeing as how he WROTE that song," he replied.

(Cringe.)

How obnoxious we were to try and correct the one who actually wrote the song.  Who did we think we were?

And on a far greater scale, why do I think I need to correct God when I think He's getting it wrong?  I'm embarrassed to admit it, but there are times I think for a split second that I know better, and that God would be wise to operate from my perspective. 


But, good heavens, I do NOT know better.  I do not!! If left to my own ways, I would have things royally botched up in a heartbeat.


When I try to sing God's own song back to Him in any other way than the way He wrote it, I'm putting myself on the throne.  I'm saying I'm wiser than the only wise God, more knowing than the omniscient One.  What bold and brazen arrogance.

We have to trust God alone.  Not our hearts, which lead us astray and deceive us.  We have to trust the LORD.  The One who wrote a glory-drenched story of love and redemption.  The One who wrote our lives into existence.  The One who wrote you and me on His hands.


We get to be in on the song He penned.  We get to sing along.  But let us not be so arrogant as to think we know how to sing it better than the One who wrote it.

As for God, His way is perfect;

the word of the LORD is flawless.

Psalm 18:30

God is God and I am not,
I can only see a part of the picture He's painting
God is God and I am man,
so I'll never understand it all,
for only God is God.
God is God, Steven Curtis Chapman

*  For another post on trying to intervene on God's behalf, check out Messing Up the Blessing.

ALL MY FOUNTAINS

* All My Fountains from Passion 2011.  I can't hear this song without imagining the worship that awaits us in Heaven. 

Among MY gods there is none like You, O LORD (Psalm 86:8).  Yes, I've had gods.  


The home I thought I wanted?  It has lost half its value.


That super cute outfit I had to have?  It takes up residence at the Goodwill now, along with a bunch of other stuff we thought we couldn't do without (but eventually couldn't even sell for two bucks at a yard sale). 

The applause of man that I've sought, and even had?  I've found it to be devastatingly brief, leaving a cavernous want for more.  

My wonderful husband whom I was sure would fill up every empty spot in my soul?  He hasn't been able to.  But he wasn't even meant to, and no other person even could.


Even my children have held a spot on the pedestal of my heart.  But even these precious ones have come up short, disobeyed, and shattered any "My-child-would-never" notions I may have even dared to think.  

But even when I enjoy the home we share, and even when Justin holds me up and loves me as Christ loved the church, and even when my children comply, come through and create the most beautiful expressions of love...

it STILL all pales in light of God's crazy love and goodness.

Every demonstration of love and grace from Justin, every heartwarming moment with my babies, every joyous moment in the fellowship of others, every moment of happiness I derive from something temporal -- every one of these things is small.

Not in and of themselves, but in light of the LORD.

HE does not leave me wanting.

HE does not change.

HE alone is the source of everything that fills me. 

Sustains me.

Heals me.  


HE is the only one.

Beautiful Jesus, all my fountains are in YOU  (Psalm 87:7).

THE POST YOU MIGHT NOT READ

Psalm 40 was my food last year.  I found myself having to let those words bathe my mind and heart--often.  But not until today did I break them down and look at them in their original language. 


It get that it would be easy to click away to "elsewhere" because there's no story, no anecdote today--but please don't miss this.  Don't skip this post because it's "just Scripture" (Yeah, I've done that, too). Just know there might be something here for you.

1. I waited patiently for the LORD;

I looked for, waited on Jehovah,

He turned to me and heard my cry.

He turned to me and considered, was attentive to my crying.

2. He lifted me out of the slimy pit, 

He brought me up, caused me to ascend up from

the horrible, tumultuous pit,

out of the mud and mire;

from the miry mud and clay;

He set my feet on a rock

He made me able to endure 

and confirmed His strong hold on my feet,

and gave me a firm place to stand.

and established my steps and goings.  

3. He put a new song in my mouth,

He has bestowed, added, assigned to me 

fresh, new things,

a hymn of praise to our God.

songs of praise to Elohim.

Many will see and fear 

An exceeding number will consider, discern, 

and have reverence

and put their trust in the LORD.

and be bold, sure, confident and secure 

in Jehovah.

Awesome God, I praise You for being attentive to my desperation and tears, and for pulling me up out of the most horrible, hellish pit. I love You for having a strong hold on my feet and establishing my goings.  Thank You for giving me fresh praise--new things for which to praise You.  Let people see Your redemption and put their hope in You.

I *WAS* THE TALL KID

 I was the tallest kid in my class in 6th grade.


But who cares.  Because I'm only 5'2" now.  And now that I'm mid-30-ish, I don't anticipate any more growth spurts in my future. 

Sure, I may have grown first.  And initially it probably looked like I'd be towering over everybody.  

But how things looked in the beginning was not how they turned out. The shorter kids eventually caught up with me--and then kept right on going!  These days I find that, in most circles, I'm the shortest one.


We can't figure out how tall someone will eventually stand based on what we see in the beginning.  That means something to me today!

It means that the worthless things that appear to have more momentum than the thing of value I'm working on may not eventually stand quite as tall as this now-short thing of God I'm nurturing. 

Keep showing up.  Keep honoring the LORD.  Keep living love.  

And you might just end up the tallest one.

HIDE THE SPARE CHANGE JAR!!!

If Mark Zuckerberg ever comes to my house, you know what I'm going to do?

Hide all my money.

"Stash the kids' piggy banks!" I'll say.  "We don't want him trying to bogey all our nickels and dimes!"

Of course I'm kidding.  And why?

Because Mark Zuckerburg (Founder of Facebook/Gazillionaire) does not need my money.  No need to try and keep it from him.

The same could be said of God.  He does not NEED our stuff, our time, our money, our anything.  

"I have no need of a bull from your stall or of goats from your pens,  for every animal of the forest is mine, and the cattle on a thousand hills...The world is mine and all that is in it" (Psalm 50:9-10, 12).  


Why do we withhold anything--ANYTHING--from the One who owns the cattle on a thousand hills?  We get this death-grip on our homes, our cars, our checking accounts as though God might come after them.  We even do it with people, forgetting that we are not owners of our relationships, but stewards.  


God sometimes does remove things from our lives--But not out of His need.  He is always motivated by His love for us and the desire to display His splendor.  Our God is constantly compelled by His longing for His glory and our good.

The next time you find yourself with a too-tight grip on something, thinking you're managing to keep something from the God who reigns over it all yet needs none of it, just picture yourself hiding the spare change jar before Mark Zuckerberg comes over for dinner.  

WHAT LOVE DOES

Not even 3 weeks ago, I took out my highlighter and marked these words in the foreword of a new book I was reading:

Wow.  And little did I know just how true I would soon find these words would be.

A week ago I got word that a loved one was going through a gut-wrenching situation.  Once everything came together for a flight to be booked, I had 20 minutes to pack and I was across the country that very night.  

Did I need a book to tell me I needed to be there in such a critical time?  Nope.  But I have realized this week that as much as I think love and feel love and pray love...

 I have been kind of crappy at DOING LOVE. 


I have the best of intentions, but intentions never change anyone's life.  I meant to send that letter, I meant to drop off a meal, I meant to make that phone call, I meant to visit.  But so often I forget, and someone misses out on the ministry of what I was meant to do.  


Too often I love and pray from afar.  But Jesus came near, and sometimes nearness is what is required to demonstrate love.  You can't hold someone from afar.  You can't look someone in the eye and boldly speak truth over them without some proximity.  


This week it's been a constant barrage of the truth that LOVE DOES. This is what I saw love look like this week:


~Love cared for the children by himself so his wife could go do something that mattered.


~Love offered to watch their friends' children so he could wrap up his school year while she was across the country.


~Love dropped off pizza, chicken, spaghetti, muffins, etc.


~Love texted prayers of love lifted up on behalf of someone they had never met.  


~Love booked a flight for someone else.


~Love gave up the convenience of their car for the week for the benefit of someone else.


~Love prepared a bed for someone to lay her head and spoke constant words of encouragement over her to fill her up so that she could serve another.  


Love DID stuff.  Because love DOES stuff!  


I want to look at things this way going forward, and I'll ask you to join me in it.  What would it look like for you to DO love this week?  


It's a new week around here.  Now that I'm home, love looks like holding down the fort while my husband ministers to people in the Dominican Republic.  Love looks like sending two birthday packages off.  It looks like making phone calls and checking in on things in California.  And it looks a whole lot like loving on my children.  And it looks like more stuff I'm waiting for God to reveal, although I'll need his strength to follow through and DO it when He does.  

Greater love has no man than this, that he would lay down his life for his friends.  

JOHN 15:13  

* Love Does by Bob Goff.  One of my new favorites!

HOW SOME OF YOU ENDED UP HERE

It's been a bear of a week, so I hope you'll permit me a "fluff post."  I love reading posts about the seriously random things people typed in to end up at a website, so here's my own. 

MY TOP SEVEN FAVORITE SEARCH TERMS THAT SOMEONE ENTERED TO END UP HERE AT "COLLIDE":

 7. "How to haircut passion"
Ah, passion.  A hairy beast, indeed.


6. "No casserole, divorce"
Wow.  Talk about an ultimatum.  "Make me some Chicken Divan or I'm walking!"


5. (Something in Russian).
I almost actually pasted the phrase here--but seeing as how my Russian is sketchy at best, it'd be just my luck to inadvertently paste something seriously naughty onto my blog.  


4. "Hoarding granola bars"
Understandable.  I mean, who hasn't thought the words "Nature Valley bars, I wish I knew how to quit you"?


3. "Dog collides with runner"
This made me laugh because this actually happened to me--but I know I didn't blog about it!  A few years ago, my Black Labrador Sadie was fast asleep in the room as I told a friend who was over how I think I look like Forrest Gump when I run.  My friend asked for a demonstration, so I backed up to the door, and took off running.  Sadie, sensing sudden excitement in the room, woke from her deep sleep and charged across the room, stopping right in front of me.  I couldn't stop in time and ended up plowing into Sadie, then sailing right over the top of her!


2. "Happy worker apples" 
I've got nothing, folks.


AND THE MOST INTERESTING PHRASE THAT LANDED SOMEONE AT THIS BLOG:

1. "no! no exceptions! i want this job, i need it, i can do it. everywhere i've been today there's always been something wrong, too young, too old, too short, too tall. whatever the exception is, i can fix it. i can be older, i can be taller, i can be anything!"
Eye of the tiger, my friend.  Good luck with making yourself shorter and younger. 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

How on earth did these phrases land people here?!?  No matter.  At least these made me smile. :)

THE BLOGGERS OF BABEL

Bloggers, speakers, writers...I think there's a word for us in the story of the Tower of Babel.

Because there once was one language, one speech in the world.  But then the people started plotting.  They'd build an impressively high brick tower that reached to the heavens, they'd decided, "so that we may make a name for ourselves" (Genesis 11:4).

And how did God respond to those who sought to make a name for themselves?

He confused their SPEECH.  Their words were what He targeted.  No longer were their utterances effective.   And they were scattered all over the earth.


As someone whose passion is the expression of God's Word through blogging, speaking, and writing, I feel an urgency to take notice of this because--and maybe you can relate--this can all too easily shift from prayerfully putting out a word to minister, challenge, and encourage, to getting all jumbled up in numbers, blog traffic, followers, and analytics.  


Yes, I hope people come to read.  I hope they come to hear.  I write and speak out of obedience to God but I hope the words mean something to someone.  We share our words because we hope there will be impact, and there's nothing wrong with that. 


But it can very easily cross over into a "Let us make a name for ourselves" kind of thing.  Our blogs or our teachings can become this impressively-high-brick-tower kind of thing that we look at with great pride, believing somehow we have made it ourselves.  Self-promotion kicks in, and we find ourselves fed by others' responses to our words.

I wonder how many people whose (written or spoken) words that used to come across clearly are now less effective...

Simply because it became about making a name for themselves.

LORD, I feel great caution in this story.   Turn my heart so that I hunger for YOUR name to be made great rather than mine.  Isaiah 26:8 keeps running through my head this morning: "YOUR name and renown are the desire of our hearts."  Keep the ministry of our words safe and effective as we seek to elevate YOUR name.  Forgive me for the times I've tried to make a name for myself. 

MY SON DID A FIREWALK

My son did a firewalk.  Or at least he may as well have.  

"Trev, you're going to need shoes.  This pavement will burn your feet," I warned as I grabbed the pool bag from the car.  

"It's warm, but it's not burning my feet," he called to me over his shoulder as he ran on ahead onto the pavement.

And he was right.  Kind of.  It wasn't burning his feet.  

Not yet, anyway.

I called out for him to come back for his shoes, but again he said he was fine.  But about halfway down the pavement path, he began doing what looked like the potty-dance.  And I knew it couldn't be that--We're pretty well past the potty-dance phase.


No, he was doing the "Holy-shnikeys-this-asphalt-is-burning-the-flesh-off-my-feet" dance.  


A few early steps on a hot path may not seem to have an effect.  But a seemingly safe path can get hot in a real hurry. And in no time at all we find ourselves stuck out in the middle with nowhere to go, getting burned with every new step we try to take.


I ran and scooped my son off the hot ground and carried him to the relief of the cool grass nearby.  His feet were tender from the hot pavement path he'd just voluntarily taken.  


There are paths that don't seem perilous at first.  We don't feel the heat, so we proceed as though no harm awaits.  


Paths of acquiring debt.


Paths of dishonesty.


Paths of inappropriate relationships.


Paths of pornography.


We don't feel the heat from one conversation with that cute guy, one twisted truth, or one swipe of the credit card.  Which is probably why we take another step.  And another.


And eventually our loving Heavenly Father--the very One who warned us about the path--is the One who comes in, lifts us off what is burning us, and tends to our tender feet.


What's the path that seems safe--but you've received a warning about its ability to harm you?  There have been times in my life when I knew God was shouting warnings at me about a path that did not initially concern me.  And the same loving God was the One to eventually rescue me.  But not without me getting my feet burned.

Can a man scoop fire into his lap

without his clothes being burned?

Can a man walk on hot coals

without his feet being scorched?

PROVERBS 6:27-28

Thank You Father that Your warnings come from Your great love for us.  I pray if anyone is perceiving that these words are a warning--perhaps even another warning--that You will strengthen them to TRUST YOU in it.  Thank You for Your grace and mercy in the times when we disregard Your warnings, but keep us seeking You so that we'll listen and sidestep the very things from which You are trying to protect us.  
 

THE Reason (Like There Was Only One)

The once-predictable path of my life was about to take one very sharp turn.  

I had my post-college plans all mapped out when, through a barrage of prompts, confirmations and peace, it seemed God was leading me away from California.

To Boston.

As in "never-been-there-before" Boston.

Like, "3,000-miles-away-from-everything-I'd-ever-known" Boston.

I'm talking "Don't-know-even-one-person-there" Boston.

Let's just say the whole thing sounded like a big slice of Crazy Pie.

But I went.  Just 4 months after I felt God was getting me ready for a move, I boarded a Boston-bound plane.  

And just 7 months after I got off that airplane, I met a young man named Justin Nelson.  I married him the next summer.  

It was almost as though I could hear a huge collective sigh of relief coming from California.  "So THAT'S the reason you were supposed to go to Boston!" I heard.  A lot.  Honestly, I think people were just comforted that something good came out of what they thought was a bat-crap-crazy plan on the front end.  


But THE reason?  Like there was only one?


Seems like when we're in a good situation or even a bad one, people are quick to say, "You're there for a reason."  But I kind of think nothing could be further from the truth.


You're not there for a reason.  You're there for all kinds of reasons.  


How strange to conclude that my 16 months in Boston could be summed up in one reason.


Don't get me wrong--Justin is, by far, the best, most wonderful thing that came from my time in Boston.  But I believe I was also meant to be there for the day-in, day-out stuff, too.


I was supposed to be there for the family I worked for and lived with for a year and a half. 


For the boy I helped raise.


For the sermons I heard at the church I attended there.


For the friendships that were made.


And even for the lonely times so far away from family and friends that forced me to press into Jesus and soak up His Word.


For a million different reasons, I was supposed to go to Boston.  


Before you glaze over at another quoting of Jeremiah 29:11, permit me to point out something I'd never really taken notice of until today:

For I know the *plans* I have for you, 

declares the LORD, 

plans to prosper you and not to harm you, 

plans to give you a hope and future.

Plans.  Plural!  


I don't know where you find yourself today.  But consider the plans--big AND small, that He has for you there.

There's not one reason why you are where you are today.

There are too many to fathom.  

FANFARE FOR THE SANDWICH MAKERS

"Time for the Summer Lunch Program!" the email announced.  "We've got lots of spots to fill, so sign up today!" 


I went to the site and saw they still needed LOTS of people to make sandwiches, put carrots in baggies, and send in juice boxes.  Very few of the spots were spilled.


But ALL the spots were filled for one of the tasks:


DELIVERING the lunches.  

Of course.  Because the person delivering the lunches gets to see the wide eyes of the children and take in their beautiful smiles.  They get the applause, the chorus of "Thank you"s, and the fanfare.  They got to see the fruit at the end of the process.  

There's no fanfare for the family slapping cheese, meat and bread together in their kitchen.  No one is standing in the Costco aisle cheering on the woman loading her cart up with juice boxes for kids she'll never meet.  And a group of friends bagging up baby carrots won't make the 6:00 news.  

And if we'll dare to be totally honest, there's something in you and in me that appreciates the accolades.  We want to serve, but we gravitate toward the more visible tasks, and question the worthiness of what won't be seen.  

Jesus spoke pointedly about such things, and it made people uncomfortable.

Be careful not to do your 'acts of righteousness' before men TO BE SEEN BY THEM.  If you do, you will have no reward from your father in heaven.  So when you give to the needy, do not announce it with trumpets TO BE HONORED BY MEN.  I tell you the truth, the ones who do this have received their reward in full.  But when you give to the needy, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.  

Matthew 6:1-4

Look, someone has to deliver the meals.  That too is an act of service.  But no more so than what the sandwich makers, who are busy planting seeds. 


When you serve the least of these, you may not experience much fanfare. 


But the applause of heaven is yours. 
 

CAN'T AFFORD TO PAY YOU

Recently I blogged here about the heartwrenching day when my 4-year old collided with a YOU BREAK IT, YOU BUY IT pottery store policy. 

But this morning as I thought back to that moment, I had a different take-away.

What if I hadn't been there?  What if I hadn't walked over to the counter with my wallet to make it right?  My little girl didn't have $16.  She couldn't exactly pony up the cash for that fragmented figurine.  It wasn't like she had anything to offer that could compensate for what she had broken.  Or what if I hadn't been willing to pay for what she broke?

It's kind of like this: I broke something, too.  And the price tag was somewhere in the billions to replace.  If I couldn't manage to come up with the payment to settle the score, it would mean an eternity apart from God.

But I couldn't pay it.  I had broken God's law and even if I worked my fingers to the bone until the day I died, it wouldn't be sufficient to make it right. 

And so just as I pulled out my wallet in that pottery store to pay for what my daughter broke, my merciful Heavenly Father paid for what I have broken. 

There's nothing Liley could have done if I hadn't been there.

And there's nothing I could do, were it not for my Heavenly Father paying for my sin. 

Don't miss this.  My sins and your sins required a payment.  They had to be dealt with.  We cannot take that lightly--we just can't.  There would be no way for us apart from what He did.  How gracious, how beautiful, how loving, how good is the One who paid!

You are the treasure

I could not afford

so I'll spend myself

'til I'm empty and poor

all for You...

You revive me, LORD.

-Christy Nockels

  



BUSTED

When I was in college, a group of my friends got quite a surprise one night while out to dinner at a local brew house.  They arrived ravenous and couldn't wait to place their orders.


While they waited for their server, one of my friends noticed that the group who had been sitting at the table next to them had taken off and--Oh, look!--had left several hardly-touched delicious looking appetizers!

Apparently the mozzarella sticks and chicken wings beckoned my famished friends.  They looked this way and that, grabbed the plates of deliciousness from the next table, and passed them around their own.

You can imagine, then, how mortified they were when they realized the people at the next table hadn't actually left--they were simply taking a quick tour of the brew house before they decided to return to their appetizers.

Busted!


My friends sheepishly admitted helping themselves to their neighbors' food and ordered them some replacements--and thankfully, everyone was able to laugh about it.

There's something about being caught, being found out, that is just cringe-inducing to us.  There are things in our hearts we hope never get uncovered, things we've done we hope stay in the dark, struggles we face that we don't care to confess.  I don't want you to know that I fight hard to stand up under certain temptations.  I want you to think I'm strong enough not to struggle at all.  


But I also know that it's actually a blessing to be busted--a gift to be found out.  The battles we face by ourselves have a far, far greater chance of bringing us down than the ones we bring to light.  


So tell on yourself.  Confession is critical in our walk with Christ.  Let yourself be found out, and find that what held you in the shadows has somehow lost its grip on you in the light.  


We don't need to live in fear of being found out, being caught.  We have already been caught in the sweetest, most freeing net of the grace of Jesus Christ.

Confess your sins to each other

and pray for each other, 

that you may be healed.

The prayer of a righteous man

is powerful and effective.

James 5:16

 

CALL IT WHAT IT IS

"Come check out our SPEEDY-SIZED stores!" the cheery announcer chirped on the Ace Hardware commercial my husband and I were watching the other night.


I scoffed out loud.  "Yeah, but that's just a nice way of saying 'Come check out our tiny hardware store that's easier to navigate than Home Depot or Lowe's because we have far less of a selection!'"


But I'm certainly guilty of sugar-coating myself.  I downplay my sin by calling it something more acceptable.  Maybe you do it, too.


But stubbornness is pride, even though we ask it to wear the more agreeable term "sticking to your guns."


And gossip is still gossip, even if you dress it up in a "prayer request."


And that growing friendship with the opposite sex?  It's not really "being there for someone while his marriage crumbles."  It's called a pre-affair, y'all.  


Let us look with honesty at our actions--at our sin.  Even the word "sin" seems a bit too much at times, as though "mistakes" and "weaknesses" feel a little less heavy.  

The beautiful news is that the story doesn't end with us broken over our sins, but with us being bound up by the One who forgives every one of them. 

We've got to call our sin what it is--and then bask in the joy that it's all been forgiven. 

Search me, O God, and know my heart,

test me and know my anxious thoughts.  

See if there is any offensive way in me

and lead me in the way everlasting.

Psalm 139:23-24

RIGHT 100 WRONGS

Can I make a confession here?

I am borderline-horrible as a homemaker.

Let's just say this is not a photo of MY pantry.  No, my house is more like stacks of clean laundry that stay on our dining room table for way too long.  Cluttered kitchen counters.  Closets in serious need of a clean sweep. 


But then there's Titus 2:4-5:

 Have the older women teach the younger women to love their husbands and children, to be self-controlled and pure, 

to be BUSY AT HOME.

There is a command and a call on us to be busy at home.  Busy about the things that build up our homes.  We could easily be busy about a thousand different things, but this is where we should be busy.  Busy creating order.  Busy making these places a sanctuary.  Busy ensuring things will run smoothly.  Busy blessing the people who live in it by doing all these other things. 


One day when I was feeling particularly overwhelmed, these words kept running through my mind:

RIGHT 100 WRONGS.


And so I began to do that.  For example, right this moment from where I'm sitting, I can see the following WRONGS:

* a pair of shorts my son dropped on the floor
* a sheet of stickers sitting on the other couch
* a book on the floor
* a school assignment my son needs to finish
* a comb sitting on the table
* a stuffed cat on the floor
* a pair of shoes sitting out
* a coloring book that didn't get put away
* a toy train car sitting on the floor
* a pen on the floor


See what I mean?  And that's just my view from the couch where I'm typing this!  I can get totally overwhelmed very quickly, and feeling overwhelmed makes me want to shut down and do nothing.


But if I will RIGHT 100 WRONGS every single day--putting away that book on the floor, wiping up that spill on the counter, straightening the towel in the bathroom, changing the paper towel roll, making that bed--each one of these things counted as a wrong that's been made right--I know I am being busy about the things of my home. 

Now that I can do!  

I want to be a good steward of the home God has given.  Off to Right 100 Wrongs. :)


Father, please strengthen us to be busy at home.  It is SO easy for us to be busy about SO many other things, but this was a priority to You, so it just plain has to be a priority to us.  Keep laziness far from us and bless and multiply our efforts to restore order to our homes, that it may serve our families well.  We love You!

THE WORD WE NEVER USE

Today the unbelievable happened.  I found myself applauding the words of a Kardashian.  No, seriously.


Khloe Kardashian-Odom was interviewed about how she and her husband have had to fight for their marriage in the limelight.  And then she said something that, unfortunately, doesn't get said often in Hollywood:


"Divorce is not an option."

Well said.  And I actually think it MUST be this way--which is why Justin and I have completely omitted this one word from the vocabulary of our marriage:  


DIVORCE.


It just does not get said.  Not in reference to us, anyway.  Not even on the toughest days.  I've been a selfish, stupid idiot at times but not even in my most selfish seasons did he utter it.  Not even on our worst days have I threatened it. We've been together for 12 years and we've never even mentioned the possibility of "us" not being "us."


It's not something that has ever been on the table.  I'm broken over the fact that, in a lot of marriages, it's a word that just sort of gets dangled out there.  Perhaps to try and inspire change in the other.  Perhaps as a threat.  Perhaps because people have already begun to think about a Plan B.  


Is divorce on the table for you?  Please--and I pray this comes across with the love in which it's intended--Get it off.  Like, right now.  Has the possibility of a split been thrown out there?  Let me plead with you to make a fresh commitment with your spouse to remove that option from your marriage.  Stop using the word.  No more making a back-up plan.  When we even begin to think along the lines of a Plan B scenario, it erodes our Plan A.  It eats away at a marriage.  The moment it even appears that that option exists, it's too easy to end up going that route eventually.

My own parents' divorce became final just 2 days before Christmas my Kindergarten year.  It has always been something I NEVER wanted to personally experience.  Banning the word "divorce" from our conversations was just one of those proactive decisions made on the front-end in the name of protecting our marriage. 

I committed myself to Justin.  For life.  Good.  Bad.  Tough.  Beautiful.  Funny.  Not funny.  All of it.  He married me for the same.

We have no plans to be anywhere else.  I am his Plan A.  He is mine.  

There is no Plan B.

LORD Jesus, please guard our marriages with love and diligence.  I pray specifically for anyone who may be in need of Your healing over their marriage.  Remind Your child today that against all hope it's still fitting to believe You can restore even the most broken of things.

ARE YOU EVER GOING TO ACTUALLY *DO* ANYTHING?

Pinterest.  Gotta love it.  It's one of those things that you can spend all the live-long day pinning organization ideas, free things to do over the summer with your kids, cool decorating ideas, or your choice of about a thousand chicken casserole recipes....and keep them in a handy place where they'll probably never be used.  Like, ever.

But just today I thought, "Enough!"  I have 409 pins and it's time to finally do something with them.  

So I decided that until I actually bake/make/apply something that I have already pinned, I don't get to pin anything else.  Time to put into action what I've already taken in.

I can totally do this with the Word of God, too.  I can sit and take in and read and study and absorb.  But at some point I've got to get up and GO DO IT.

I've got to actually encourage someone.  I've got to actually meet the needs of the poor.  I've got to actually forgive.  Actually share the reason for the hope I have.  Actually love.  Actually tithe.  Actually serve.  Actually deny myself, take up my cross, and follow Him.  

Recently I heard a speaker say, "Your feet have to touch the ground once in a while."  I typed this into the notes section of my phone, and it was promptly auto-corrected to "Your feet have to touch the groin once in a while."  Awesome.  :D

But it's true.  The rubber has to meet the road.  We have to do the thing.  Apply the truth.  Live it out.  Do something.

After all, our example is the Word who was made flesh and dwelt among us.

Do not merely listen to the Word 

and so deceive yourselves.

Do what it says.

James 1:22

DEAR SON: WHEN YOU GET MARRIED

My son is getting married.  Someday.  And "someday" is going to be here sooner than I think.


Last week I subbed in an English class that has been reading Romeo and Juliet.  The homework assignment that night was for the students to write out the type of qualities they hope for in their future spouse.  Then they had to predict what their parents would say they want in a future spouse for their son or daughter.


As I passed out the homework assignment, I chuckled and said, "I bet my son could fill this out--and he's only six."


Not because he's some prodigy who can do high school English.  But because I already talk to him about the type of woman I hope he marries, and the type of husband I want him to be.  By the time he has a girl in mind for whom to purchase a ring, he will know my heart on the matter.  And I pray he will take it to heart.

These are some of the conversations we're having now:

* You get to practice how you'll treat your wife one day in the way you treat Mommy and Liley.  If you don't plan on treating your wife poorly, then don't treat us poorly.  We are your training field.  Practice now treating Mommy and your sister with kindness, so that treating your wife with love and consideration one day will just be the natural extension of what you've practiced all along.


* Read your Bible.  I want you to attract the heart of a young lady who LOVES that you read your Bible--and that you do what it says. 


* Watch what Daddy does.  You have been BLESSED to have the example you have in him.  Of course nobody's perfect--but he's getting it right.  He is an awesome husband and father.  Follow in his footsteps.  


* Have a teachable heart.  Please, please do not be stubborn--that will never serve you well long-term. I promise.  Own up to your brokenness, selfishness, and your need for the LORD to refine you where it's needed.


* Say you're sorry.  Not saying you are sorry when it's necessary will be a snare to your feet.  Humble yourself when you've been out of line.  Ask for forgiveness, and be willing to give it.

* Be a gentleman.  Open doors.  Use your finest manners.  Tell her she looks lovely.  Bring her a flower.  Seriously, this stuff still really works.  


* If she doesn't love Jesus, she is not an option for you.  Period.  You are a follower of Christ.  Pursue another follower of Christ, or no one at all.


* She must LOVE you, Trev.  I hope she makes you laugh until your sides hurt.  I hope she's considerate of others.  I hope she wants to be a mom who builds into her children for the long-term.  But more than anything, I hope you choose a girl who loves Jesus and loves you. 

I'm having these conversations with him now, because time is flying by.  This covered-in-green-finger-paint little guy has become this:

  And it won't be nearly long enough before he goes on a first date.  And then another.  And eventually he will have his last first date.  And then that tiny hand I held will take another hand in marriage.

So I'm starting the conversation early.  

EVEN MORE UNDIGNIFIED

"Oh my gosh--that is so embarrassing!" my best friend Kelly and I used to say whenever "she" raised her hand during worship time.


We couldn't believe our fellow church member was so demonstrative in her worship.  After all, we grew up in a pretty conservative church.  And this was 20 years ago.  Even her one-raised-hand was one gutsy move in that environment; that sort of thing just didn't really "happen."  If you really, really wanted to get down with your bad self, you clapped to the beat.  And usually ON the beat, not that super-edgy-off-the-beat kind of clapping.

And yet so many years later, a lot has changed in my own personal worship.  I find that my body wants to reflect the posture of my heart.  Not every time, not every song, not every prayer.  But more than I feel comfortable doing so. 


I want to be able to lift my hands sometimes, but I feel reserved in doing so.  Probably because, at my church, the majority don't raise theirs.  And there's a tremendous pull in me to just simply...well, blend.  I'm not exactly looking to stick out like a sore thumb.  And so--even in my expressions of worship--I just want to go with the flow and not attract attention.  


But I can't help thinking of King David who, in 2 Samuel 6, got a little....how shall I say....Pentecostal-errific in his worship.

When the Ark of the Covenant was brought into the tent David had prepared for it, Scripture says he leaped and danced before the LORD with all his might.

I'm sure that was quite the scene.  We're talking *way* beyond the one raised hand or clapping on the off-beat.  Maybe even jazz hands were involved.

Well, his wife was watching all of this from a window above, and she was mortified by David's undignified worship.  Once she had a moment alone with him, she chastised him and rebuked his actions. 


"That was before the LORD who chose me and appointed me," King David replied, "and I will celebrate before the LORD.  I will become even more undignified than this, and will be humiliated in my own eyes."


King David was unapologetic about his response of worship.  Even when it made others uncomfortable.  Even when those closest to him didn't get it.  He simply said his actions were before--and FOR--the God who had chosen him and appointed him, and he would willingly become more undignified, more humiliated, if that's what a response of worship warranted.


I wish I was even half as bold in my own worship.  No, I've never felt compelled to leap before the LORD, nor dance with all my might (although that is a pretty funny mental image).  But there are times I want to respond MORE with my body.  Sometimes I want both hands stretched upward.  Sometimes I want to kneel.  Sometimes I want to sit and let His love fall on me.  


But instead, I usually just stand.  Dignified.  A well-behaved worshipper.


LORD God, our worship is for YOU, and You alone.  It is not for others--not even the ones with whom we share a sanctuary.  Keep our eyes so totally fixed on YOU, Jesus, that we cannot help but respond in whatever way You lead, no matter how it may look.  Let us be more undignified, more humiliated, if You might be lifted up in such an offering. 


* For a humorous take on hand-raising in worship, click *HERE* to check out this post from Jon Acuff's Stuff Christians Like.  Makes me laugh every time--and now when I'm in worship I picture myself holding a pound cake--or a watermelon!  :D

inCONSIDERate

Yesterday I witnessed a blatant act of inconsideration.  My daughter and I were eating lunch at the food court in the CNN building, and the table beside ours was occupied by several high school age girls.  I didn't notice them leave, but I did notice the enormous pile of trash they left behind.  And then I noticed a dejected CNN employee approach the table and begin to clear off the hamburger wrappers, half-eaten cartons of fries, and slurped-down soda cups. 


"Did those girls really just leave all that trash for someone else to clean up?" I asked the woman.


"Happens all the time," she replied as she wiped down the table.  


I wasn't okay with that.  I made a lesson of it with my daughter, and the two of us made sure we left our table spotless.  


Fast forward to today.  

Today I wanted to be inconsiderate.

Not because I wanted to actually be inconsiderate;  I just felt momentarily inconvenienced by the thought of doing the considerate thing.  And so I wanted to do the thing that would have been inconsiderate.

I picked up an item at the grocery store, and then found a better price on a similar item at the opposite end of the store.  I was a little stick-a-fork-in-me-I'm-done at the end of that grocery run, and the other end of the store seemed a million miles away.  I reeeeally wanted to just stick the first item on some random shelf and head to the checkout lanes. 

And then I remembered the inconsideration of those girls yesterday.  
And I thought of that worker at CNN who had to clear away what they should have.  

I knew if I didn't put that item away, someone would have to.  Someone else would have to pick up that displaced item and return it to its rightful place.

I know that wouldn't have been the end of the world--but to me, it just would have felt like an inconsiderate thing to do.


Because CONSIDERation means considering others instead of just yourself.  And, in stark contrast, inCONSIDERation means refusing to consider what your actions will mean to others.  

So what does consideration look like?  It's getting up with the baby so your spouse can rest.  Inconsiderate is pretending you don't hear the baby so your spouse will have to get up.  They're every bit as tired as you are. 


Consideration means letting someone else have the best parking spot (why is this one SO hard for me?) because a mom with five kids or an older gentleman whose legs aren't working as well anymore might need it more than I do.  Inconsideration is not even thinking someone else might be needing that close spot. 

Consideration is rooted in humility--and inconsideration, in pride. 

Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, 

but in humility CONSIDER others better than yourselves.

Each of you should look not only to your own interests,

but also to the interests of others.

PHILIPPIANS 2:3-4

* What does consideration look like for you in all your comings and goings today?