16 Aug
80-six
Spent this week preparing for the new school year.
Our middle son is a sophomore in high school, and our youngest is in 6th grade.
Today’s preparations involved haircuts.
The youngest proclaimed, after getting his hair only trimmed a little around his ears, that he will not be getting another haircut until his big brother comes home. He wants his hair cut like his. No drama. Just stated very matter-of-factly.
I think the high schooler is waiting on his big brother to teach him to drive, too.
Incredibly moved with every single quiet pledge noticed in excited anticipation of the three to be united in just eighty-6 days!
12 Aug
NINETY-1
Welcome to the countdown!
90-One is a perfect number. Way better than the 710 of yesterday.
Today I’m camping out in Psalm 91. Click HERE if you’d like to read it, too.
I can’t help but smile when I read:
“He will cover you with His feathers;
you will take refuge under His wings”
As I have felt a great desire to protect my family, and have experienced great relief and comfort in having my children nestled under the roof of our family home, IMAGINE how far greater the desire and love of Our Heavenly Father as He continually feathers us and keeps His protective wings around us! How much greater does The Father love than we?!
Today I am keeping NINETY-1 close to my heart in thanksgiving for all of God’s promises and His truth, as I celebrate the start of this long-awaited countdown.
11 Aug
Day 710
Seven Hundred Ten is a nice, even number, don’t you think?
That’s 1 year, 11 months and 10 days, exaclty.
Or 17,040 hours, approximately.
Wow, that hours number doesn’t freak me out as much as the almost 2 years number.
My gifting is in colors, not numbers, and in the case of moments away from home (which is 1,022,400!), that’s a good thing.
710.
Nice, round, evenly divisible number.
Also a great stopping point, don’t you think?
Many of you have followed my “count up” since Day 1.
(On this blog, that would be since Day 19, the first public post of the count up)
In doing so, you have also shed some tears and smiles with me along the way.
Many of you have also offered prayers and lifted our family up to The Lord, and I’m confident that the immense strength we as a family have had during this journey has been a blessing from God, and I am thankful for the faithful prayers of friends and strangers alike.
My son will be returning soon.
That’s right! We have a count down in progress now!
In just a few short weeks, our family will be reunited, and words cannot express the excitement every one of us has, as we prepare, plan and dream a little bit louder about our reunion.
But the journey is far from over. As much as we prepare, plan and dream, and think about our desires for the coming months, it is Our Saviour who remains in control. We understand that it is His perfect and holy, Masterfully orchestrated script that will unfold before us. It is in knowing this that I ask for your specific prayers.
Please join us in continuing to pray for safety & protection.
For provision.
For us to recognize the direction of the weather vane.
For understanding.
And above all else, pray for us to be yeilded to The Master’s plan, and to move in obedience with His will for our lives.
As much as I have looked forward to having all of my chics under my wings again — oh! My heart leaps at the thought! — I know that like the seaons and other things of this earth, temporary is the moment, and eternal is the life. Please pray for our time together to be an easy transition and a powerful ignition into a new chapter.
Tomorrow is a new day.
A new number.
Praise the Lord, for great things He hath done!
2 Aug
Counting Our Blessings At The Trash Dump
My husband called at 3:30pm:
“Honey, we need for you to come pick us up. The Trailblazer has a problem.”
The ole’ Trailblazer is down.
Broke down, that is.
Where did this happen?
Of all places, the trash dump.
On a busy Friday afternoon.
Her shifting cable snapped in half, and she wouldn’t budge from the prime real estate in front of the household waste dumpster.
The girl has over 200,000 miles on her, and things just happen.
Still, my immediate reaction was not evident of anything understanding.
No peace fell upon me as I started calculating the cost of the repair and the discomfort of living without her for a few days.
None.
This unexpected fix would cost money we hadn’t budgeted for.
That stinks!
The big red bus needs some attention!
Thankfully, the short drive to rescue my husband and son was long enough for me to be reminded of all the blessings that abound around this mini distraction.
* Thank goodness this “break” didn’t happen two weeks ago when my husband and son were on the road between here and North Dakota!
* And thank goodness this “break” happened now, instead of three months from now when my oldest son will be driving it!
* Hallelujah, we are paid ahead on one of our bills that will allow for us to cover the cost of this repair!
* How furtunate we are to have another vehicle at home that we can drive this week!
* Could there have been a better place to break down? I think not! The car was PARKED, and in a place where the traffic flow is cautious and forgiving, as well as the Waste Management attendents!
* We had opportunities to serve others while waiting for the tow truck (helping empty the truck beds and trunks of others)!
* And we had the good fortune to visit with our Music Minister while we waited, since he spied us and the twinkling hazard lights of our car when he was passing through!
I am so thankful for God’s blessings and for His protection. Always, and in all ways.
It’s Friday night, and we got to squeeze in some quality family time a little early today, as we hanged out together at the trash dump. It’s been a great start to the weekend. Seriously! It has!
30 Jul
A Boy Without A Story
Several years ago, there was this little boy without a story.
Or so he thought.
He had overcome the obsticles of divorced parents and blended families.
But that didin’t define him; therefore, this was not story-worthy.
He had overcome the fears of being “different”, in a world that wants “same”.
But that didn’t define him; therefore, this was not story-worthy.
He wasn’t a recovering drug addict.
Didn’t come from an abusive household.
He did not have any skeletons in his closet that were rapping to get out.
He went to school and had decent grades.
He had a part time job.
Drove a sixteen year old Jeep.
Played a borrowed guitar, because he could’t afford one of his own.
None of this “non-story” stuff was brought to the table for discussion, until…
American Idol.
American who?
Yeah, the television show.
See, this boy had a passion for music.
Lyrics and rhythm didn’t just come naturally to him, they were him.
Lyrics and rhythm were as much a part of who he was as his heartbeat and fingerprints.
Music just was.
There was no time when it became a learned thing.
There was no time when it didn’t exist in his every day.
Because music just always “was”, it was not seen as story-worthy.
Not by him.
At least, not yet.
After getting the “golden ticket”, and continuing to a second audition (not a televised audition, sort of like a pre-audition to the audition, if you will), he was told, “Be thinking about your story, so if one of our producers asks you about it, you’ll be ready to share it.”
What?
And this is when the “non-story” subject became a “thing” worth pondering.
Isn’t it that way with everyone?
I mean, about our stories.
For years, I lived beneath the lying voice that told me I wasn’t even worthy of a story, let alone story-worthy. I excused away every coincidence, every defeated obsticle, every battle scar, recognition and praise-worthy accomplishment. I lived in a world I filled with negatives, like self-doubt and self-imposed guilt. I listened to the lies of the enemy telling me I was nothing. No one. Nobody. A mistake.
If it’s not Hollywood encouraging exageration or realities that just aren’t, well, real, it’s the rest of the world around us. Strangers. Our peers. Our collegues. The people nextdoor. It may even be our own relatives or – go ahead and gasp – our church family. The world doesn’t want us to recognize our stories, and it doesn’t want us to share them.
How crazy is that? Bear with me…
I am a follower of Jesus Christ.
I believe that Jesus is the Son of God.
The one and only Son of God.
I believe in the Holy Trinity, as one – God the Father, Jesus the Son, and the Holy Spirit.
I believe Jesus came to earth, where he brought the message of salvation to us.
I believe that Jesus was crucified.
I believe He died for my sins. For yours, too.
I beleive that three days after His death, He was resurrected.
I believe that He is coming again.
I believe, completely, 100 % without a doubt, that everyone has a story waiting to be realized. Waiting to be told. One that is worthy and a vessel for sharing The Truth. That’s why the enemy works so hard and creatively to silence it.
The enemy is sneaky. He’ll use those American Idol execs to tear us down, or build us up. He’ll use the world to determine our value. He’ll work diligently to keep us from knowing Truth.
So where is this little boy without a story today?
Well, he is no little boy any longer. He’ll be 21 this year. He is traveling the world and sharing the greatest story of all – The Story of Salvation Through Jesus Christ. And he’s doing so using music as his platform.
See, what this little boy figured out was that once he stopped listening to the world around him – once he tuned the business and chaos out – he was able to hear the voice of The Savior. And after listening to The Father, he began to understand that his own story was indeed one worthy of sharing.
That’s what our testimony is, you know. It’s our story. It’s the one that has been gifted to us so that we can share it with others for the sole purpose of spreading The Good News of Jesus Christ.
Thank you, Lord, for Your Little Boy and for His story.
16 Jul
I Have Made Some Crappy Choices
It’s morning.
Driving to work.
Should I listen to the radio, Lord, or shall we talk on the way to work today?
I hit the radio button.
“It’s a good morning!”
It’s also a beautiful day.
Figures.
Clear skies and sunshiney rays of hello lend to poor reception.
Too many different sound waves happily traverse the space around my car.
Sorry, Mandesa, I have to turn you off this morning.
So, I guess it’s a talky-kind-of-morning.
I’m no different from the next guy.
Really, I’m not.
I sin.
I have a hard time learning a lesson.
Gosh, I’ve made a bad choice and decided against making the same bad choice, only to do it again.
And again.
And again.
Lord, I’m so glad You love me and You forgive my shortcomings.
I’m so glad you’re patient.
I have made some really crappy choices.
Yes, but you’ve made some really good choices, too.
Thank, you, Lord, for pointing that out.
I have made some really good choices.
I HAVE made some really good choices.
I get it.
Thank you!
9 Jul
Day 677
Cleaning out the china cabinet tonight, I found a stack of newspapers from summer of 2010. They were tucked away for memory’s sake, but tonight, they were a sweet smile from the Savior. No doubt His plan is far greater than any we could imagine, He knew exactly the moment I should stumble upon the words spoken by my son nearly 3 years ago, recorded in newspaper print.
This has been one of those flash-forward moments. God’s allowed me to see His hand in the days that have followed these words…words that have been spoken into life by The Creator himself. Thank you, Lord. Thank you!
1 Jul
Notes Sung Sweetly Over Seas
What a blessing, to share an hour of conversation with my son, who is overseas…and to share a harmony or two.
Thank you, Lord.
__________________
“Mom, I’m leading worship tomorrow. Got any ideas for songs I should share?”
“Ooooo, you know I like ‘Forever’, that’s still my favorite.
I know it’s an old one, but it speaks to me.”
“Yeah, I know, but I need songs that are well-known, not ones I’ve written.”
“Oh, okay, like ‘How Great is our God’?
Mr. Ed lead us in that song this morning.
I love that song!”
“I like that too, but I don’t know if that’s well-known over here.”
“How about ‘Mighty To Save’?
That’s a good one, too.”
“I’m thinking more like hymns, that would be more well-known.”
“Okay, the first one that comes to mind is ‘Satisfied’,
and you know that one.”
“But that’s not one that’s familiar to many. Something more traditional.”
“‘Turn your eyes upon Jesus, look full in his wonderful face…“
“Yeah, more like that. But not that one.”
“Gosh, hard for me to just think of hymns right off.
And there are so many that are used in contemporary worship songs these days.
Like ‘Nothing But The Blood of Jesus’.
I think that’s in a Tomlin song, or maybe someone else.
But that’s a good one.
What can wash away my sins? Nothing but the blood of Jesus.
What can make me whole again? Nothing but the blood of Jesus…”
“Oh, precious is the flow, that makes me white as snow.
No other fount I know, nothing but the blood of Jesus. That’s a good one.”
“Oooo, or how about ‘Victory in Jesus’?
There’s victory in Jesus, my Savior forever.
That song is so uplifting.
You know, that was the song we all sang at the
beginning of Mr. Philip’s service.
It was perfect!
“That’s a good one, too. Yeah.
He sought me, and bought me, with His redeeming blood.
He loved me ‘ere I knew Him, and all my love, is due Him.
He plunged me to victory, beneath the cleansing flood.
I like that one. Okay, what else?”
“Well, wait a minute.
I’ve got a little hymn book right here.
You know, those kind that tell you the history of the songs?”
“I love those.”
“It’s like the one I gave you before you left.
I’m keeping this one here for you.
Let’s see…’Little Is Much When God Is In It’.
I don’t know that one.
And there’s ‘Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus’.”
“Not that one, ma.”
“How about that!
It was written in 1922 by a woman.
I didn’t know that!
She was 55 years old when she wrote it.
Says that when she became blind, her husband left her.
She said that when she heard a statement that deeply impressed her,
she stood still, and there was singing in her soul and spirit. “
“That’s cool, ma.”
“The verses of the song were written within a week’s time
and in ‘their usual manner of composition,
but nonetheless dictated by the Holy Spirit.”
“Wow! I can relate!”
“That’s so awesome.
I always liked that song, and now I just like it even more!
Anyway, what about some song that goes
...and He walks with me, and He talks with me,
and He tells me I am His own?
“I don’t know that one, ma.”
“That was grandma Flossie’s favorite.
It’s more like a song you hear at funerals.
This one makes me think of Kristen, ‘His Eye Is On The Sparrow’.
Remember her singing that one at Aroma?”
“Yeah. She’s getting married soon – it’s crazy!”
“I know! Love them.
You should try to see them when you’re home.
Maybe on your way to Alabama.”
“I should. Man, there’s so many places I want to go when I get home.”
“Yep, I know.
Hey, how about the one that goes
…here I raise my Ebenezer…”
“...hither by thy help I come.
And I hope by thy good pleasure safely to arrive at home...”
“Jesus sought me when a stranger
wandering from the fold of God…“
“…He to rescue me from danger
interposed His precious blood.”
“That’s such a good one!”
“Yeah, ‘Come Thou Fount Of Every Blessing’.
I like that one, too.
I think I might use that one.”
28 Jun
I Own A Paula Deen Frying Pan
Just one.
That’s all I need.
It’s pan-enough to handle all of my stove-top cooking needs.
My husband bought it, actually.
I’ve never fancied myself a Paula Deen fan.
Not really any kind of fan, for that matter.
I am Not A Fan.
[Sorry, couldn’t resist.]
[But it’s true, I am not.]
This Paula Deen pan I have,
it’s blue and sort of speckled.
Not hard to miss in the sea of orange and silver pans in my cabinet.
It’s one of a kind.
Love my Paula D Pan!
I have always enjoyed cooking in that pan.
It’s sturdy.
It’s reliable.
Things cook up well in it.
The clear, glass lid fits nicely, too.
It’s easy to see what’s going on inside it.
It’s also unmistakable.
I could pick that pan out based on the sheer weight and solidness it has.
It does not waiver when it comes to even heat distribution either.
Sure, it’s over cooked some meals.
It’s even burnt one or two.
Okay, 12 or 18.
But what pan doesn’t make mistakes?
In light of recent current events and headlines,
I’m finding myself more and more fond of my Paula Deen pan.
Whenever I cook in it, or wash it, or even think about cooking in it and washing it, I am now constantly reminded of how much My Savior loves me.
How cool is that?
I mean, how wasteful and frivolous would it be if I every time I scorched a little food, or over salted it, I threw the pan away that the food was cooked in?
Thank you, Jesus, you haven’t and won’t discard me based on my mistakes and slip ups. Thank you, Jesus, for your daily forgiveness of my sins! I know, because of You, that I am to forgive as You forgive. I am to love as You love. I am to understand second chances (and third and fourth…), because You have given me so many. Because of You, Jesus, I also know that I am not to judge others, lest I be judged by You in the same way. I’m not to judge people who cook in Paula Deen pans, nor those who choose not to cook in Paula Deen pans. Thank you, Jesus.
Yep, the Paula Deen pan has a permanent residence in my kitchen.
I’m going to keep it.
the toenail 