tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8807843087274480712024-02-19T23:45:39.023-08:00thisonethoughtCharishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00350951414218746391noreply@blogger.comBlogger42125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-880784308727448071.post-54257843626948608022017-11-28T12:09:00.000-08:002017-11-28T12:09:10.614-08:00Glory of God<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">"Therefore, when Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who came with her weeping, He groaned in the spirit and was troubled.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">And He said, 'Where have you laid him?' They said to Him, 'Lord, come and see.' </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Jesus wept.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Then the Jews said, 'See how He loved him!' And some of them said, 'Could not this Man, who opened the eyes of the blind, also have kept this man from dying?' </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Then Jesus, again groaning in Himself, came to the tomb. It was a cave, and a stone lay against it. Jesus said, 'Take away the stone.' </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Martha, the sister of him who was dead said to Him, 'Lord, by this time there is a stench, for he has been dead four days.' </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Jesus said to her, 'Did I not say to you that if you would believe you would see the glory of God?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Days are such interesting things. You can have thirty pass without even realizing it, and then there are times in life where a few days strung together seem to literally drive your life out of one season and distinctly into a new one. I love those days. I've been blessed to have so many of them. Going to college, meeting Chad, getting engaged, getting married, each and every birth of my children. We start a day with this certain capacity and end with a new one. Hours might as well be years, as you're charted away into new waters. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The past seven days represent a marker in our lives forever. We will not come out on the other side the same. Even the first few hours in, somehow, my mind was processing that fact. This will change us. This will change me. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">At the close of 24 hours, together alone in the surgery waiting room of a children's hospital, Chad and I sat hand in hand, processing together in hushed voices. "If I could tell anyone anything," Chad said, "it would be to start spending time with Jesus every day." It sounds so simple. But cultivating a friendship with Jesus, really knowing Him, has changed everything. The veil between earth and heaven in those hours was so thin. I don't know how our feet carried us from one point to another. It is blurred in my mind, those details seeming to run together and bleed like water spilled on a painting. But there are other images, other details from these past seven days, especially that first 24 hours that I will treasure all of my life. I have felt the richness of God's love and the presence of Jesus more in these days than ever before. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I used to hear stories like this, friends finding themselves standing in a sudden and terrible storm, and feel that kicked in the gut, breathless, sobbing, horror. The kind where I didn't know what to say, I fearfully hugged my children, rocked them and cried and thanked God I wasn't going through the trial. To be on this side of it, to have stared down the barrel of my darkest fear, I am so relieved to know it was nothing like I imagined it to be. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I will not dishonor the gift of God's love by iterating any traumatic moments, taking you through every detail. Those details, laid out on paper, or internet paper, do not convey the grace we felt and the love that covered our every move. I will not magnify the fear. I will not give attention to it. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I will boast that right away, as I stepped out of the doctors office and heard words that would have made me shudder and vomit all at once from the outside, I felt the strings of fear tied to my heart suddenly be clipped by the Holy Spirit. I felt a holy roar echoing in my chest, an utter confidence that God is good. God is life. The fingerprints of God are life and resurrection and healing and hope. As I scanned the concerned faces of the office staff and nurses, I turned to Dee and said, "Dee, do you know Jesus?" She said she did. "Good," I said, "because He loves Cade." </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">And sitting in the ER, clutching Lily to me while Chad and a surgeon had taken Cade back for initial scans, while tears streamed down my cheeks, I knew I had to use every opportunity I could to speak about the triumph of God's nearness any chance I had in this unknown journey. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">It makes me sick to think anyone would hear of our story and use it as evidence against trusting God. That anyone would hear it and be afraid of Him, as if He is the author of disease or illness or delights in hurting His own. How dare anyone take my story and twist it. Because my story, Cade's story, Chad's story, is fully and inseparably bound up in the goodness of God. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I slept that first night and woke up realizing we had found this <i>just</i> at the right time. It was like a holy gasp, a precious gift of a realization. The first of many convictions that God was and is orchestrating Cade's healing. As my friend Heather and I sat by Cade's bed processing the events while he slept peacefully, we realized that years ago, while I was in junior high or even earlier, our surgeon was spending hours studying and sleeplessly fulfilling rotations so that he could be ready to labor over my son's body in his hour of need. A surgeon who we prayed with, who we later learned loved Jesus, and was only on call that night at the ER but told his fellow that he could NOT let our case pass to anyone else's hands because there was something about us that compelled him to take care of it. Years ago, God began the work of deliverance for my son.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms, sans-serif;">As I have processed with different people, sharing the promises, the verses, the text encouragements, the prophetic words over my sons life, I have literally felt angels hovering close. They're amazed at the mysery of the love of God. I have felt a hospital room, beeping with lifelines and pulsing with IV fluids and pain meds, become infused with hope and peace and an inexplicable joy. I have found that down in the depths, there is joy. My God illumines my darkness. As Psalm 139 says, the darkness is not dark to Him. To Him, it shines like the day. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms, sans-serif;">Our final day in the hopsital we walked Cade up and down the post-op unit, and heard him pray for every baby he saw. Just a simple prayer. I laid in bed with him every night, and one precious night we talked about Jesus loving Cade, and Cade's salvation was illuminated to me in new ways. What a gift. My son is 4. He knows God. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms, sans-serif;">We have a list of things we are thankful for from this past week that is ABSURDLY long. It's not embellished. It's truth. We are overwhelmed with thankfulness. We have asked friends to contribute to it. Hearing our community thankful for this with us has TRANSFORMED the darkest moments. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms, sans-serif;">Some people have texted and remarked about my strength- which makes me laugh. Guys, I'm about as strong as an infant most days. I feel shaky at best on my own. For about two hours I thought I was strong, then the Lord reminded me that I'm just a mom. I'm scared of everything. Helmetless drives in convertibles, words like disease, unknown futures. He is strong. He is in me. He makes my way perfect and enables me to stand on the heights. HE LIVES ON THE HEIGHTS. Ground level living is terrifying- and I know I've reverted there by the nausea I start to feel and the trembling. But if I let Him give me hind's feet on high places, I can stand with Him on the heights. THE GOD OF PEACE WILL SOON CRUSH SATAN UNDER YOUR FEET. When I stand with Him, I have perfect peace. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms, sans-serif;">Chad and I have collected some of our favorite moments over the past few days. Life is a gift. Trials are a gift. I would not choose them. But God is good to His word- He is a man acquainted with grief and unafraid of coming close. He sustains us when we fix our gaze on Him. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms, sans-serif;">Don't get me wrong. Cancer is from hell. It's a result of sin. It's not God's assignment. The Son of Man came to destroy the works of the enemy, and He spent most of His ministry healing. He wasn't healing what God had inflicted. He was healing what sin and death had sown into the earth. I am convinced Cade will be healed- and between us, I'm convinced it will be THIS side of Heaven- "I would have lost heart had I not believed that I would see the goodness of God in the LAND OF THE LIVING." </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms, sans-serif;">My whole life I have loved the Word of God. In enneagram testing, I am a seven. Sevens HATE pain and hate deprivation. Sevens like a party. Sevens realized at a young age that they were too sad. In my mind, I was pensive as a kid and absorbed everything and the only thing that got me out of myself was reading the Bible. Y'all, God SET ME UP. I have been eating up promises people are texting, pouring over my minds memory of verses, hovering near the Bible. It's like a treasure hunt every day. So, were you to ask me for advice I'd say- READ YOUR BIBLE. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms, sans-serif;">Second, I'd say get into a community of crazy people. I have crazy friends all over. Crazy friends who had a prayer hour during my son's surgery. Crazy friends who hosted a prayer and worship night Sunday night in honor of Cade. Crazy friends who text us, show up at the hopsital bearing Lara bars and starbucks, refuse to let us give up, and weep with us WITH hope. I saw a stunning quote this week from my girl Havilah Cunnington that said, "Courage does not happen in isolation. It happens in community." TRUTH. Courage has welled up in our hearts every day a new because people are praying. THANK YOU. Do not give up on friends, do not give up on churches, or small groups, or sharing even if its uncomfortable or seems routine or silly. And find crazy people. People who believe bigger than you, fight longer than you, and love you way more than your deserve. Truly, our hearts are being held by friends. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">When I found out at 40 weeks pregnant that Cade had a cleft lip, and we waited a hard week to see whether or not it would involve his palette and many surgeries, we labored in prayer. We both came away with promises, but one that Chad shared with me that felt especially poignant was this verse out of John 11:40 "Did I not say to you that if you would believe you would see the glory of God?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">We marveled over that verse then, little knowing that only a few years down the road, that verse would take on new flesh for a promise we need. Over the past seven days we have revisited the promises we got when we were pregnant with Cade, including his name: Cademen "wise warrior" and Joseph, who said to his brothers, "what you meant for evil, God meant for good". We are finding that God was initiating with us even then for this moment. Years before we knew. And thank you Lord we didn't know.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I want to write this, even though right now I feel tired and mentally and physically ready to sleep, only because I think the audience of people praying for and carrying us HAVE to know that on the other side of your deepest fear stands Jesus. Always. Only Jesus. I am seeing Him in a whole new way. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">My Bible reading plan had me begin Revelation this week, and I was struck with the comparison to when John, one of Jesus' closest friends, the one who reclined on His chest and was the beloved disciple, saw Jesus in His glory, he fell on his face. The familiar Jesus, who he'd seen work countless miracles and watched wake up from sleep and broke bread with and wandered countrysides with, had suddenly taken on such a new and glorious shape, John literally couldn't stand up in His presence. I feel that. I feel like this has taken the Friend I've always known, the one who sat with me in every childhood transition and calmed my fears and stilled my insecurities and navigated high school with me, has suddenly transformed before my eyes. All authority on Heaven and earth belong to Him, He holds the keys to death and hell, and He is living to make intercession for me, living to make intercession for my son. As Psalm 34:4-5 says, </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span> <span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">"I sought the Lord and He heard me, and delivered me from all my fears. They looked to Him and were radiant, and their faces were not ashamed." </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Y'all, for me right now I'm learning that the same rules apply in trials as do in good times. Right when we walked into the ER I just knew resounding in my heart was a gut desire to do this well. Whatever this may look like. Why? Because on the other side of every pain is reward. Chad's uncle prayed over Cade that the Lord would exact a penalty for Cade from the enemy for every day we dealt with this. The enemy is the accuser of the brethren, and he would love nothing more than to tell God what a whiner I am, how mad I am at God, how disappointed I am. But Jesus LIVES TO MAKE INTERCESSION for me. I have screamed into the air in my car this week, " I AM NOT MAD AT GOD. HE IS FOR ME. HE IS WITH ME. I LOVE HIM. I TRUST HIM." I am so grateful Chad initiated us walking in thankfulness- so I do not complain like a little bratt. As Bill Johnson said in that awesome sermon I linked to instagram, when we said YES to God, we lost the right to call the terms of what trials we would walk through. Heck, even if you don't say yes to God, NO ONE controls their own life. So this is my goal: the enemy will not get one single victory here. I will cry out to God- and that means crying, screaming, talking, whispering, whatever else- but it does not include muttering, grumbling or complaining. I will, by the accountability of friends and family and the Holy Spirit, choose to see what God has done, look to what He has promised, and cling to Him in hope. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I want to infuse you with courage as you read this. I want you to hear about this journey and stand up where you are and scream with joy. Even in the tension of waiting, in the cloud of unknown, you can thrive. You can find God. His nearness is our good. It truly is. He is closer than a brother in times of trouble, and my siblings and I are pretty close. I used to hate reading Job. Remember, I am a seven. We hate pain. But I've had to read it the past few years in my Bible reading plans, sometimes even twice a year (WHY). I see it differently now. James 5:11 says, "As you know, we count as blessed those who have persevered. You have heard of Job's perseverance and have seen what the Lord finally brought about. The Lord is FULL of compassion and mercy." </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms, sans-serif;">In about five minutes emotionally I could be bankrupt again, but I am so glad my circumstances and my emotions do not determine God's character. If there is anything to take away from this story, it's that God is good- and as people of God, as psalm 34 says, we go from STRENGTH TO STRENGTH, each of them appears before God in Zion. Y'all, just hold your breath for the glory that is going to come from this. As Jesus said to Martha and Mary right after he wept (because he fully partakes in our pain with us), "DID I NOT TELL YOU THAT IF YOU BELIEVE, YOU WILL SEE THE GLORY OF GOD?" Let's believe together. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>Charishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00350951414218746391noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-880784308727448071.post-39884146035233447072017-09-25T12:23:00.000-07:002017-09-25T12:35:51.402-07:00What You Are FirstLet me begin with this brief but necessary statement: I am not an expert. Looking back at my last post, I guess that's what most bothers me about A LOT of people getting access to platforms, big or small, and presenting opinions as truth and using their lives as a sort of cornerstone from which we all should build ours.<br />
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But I'm less fired up today so suffice it to say: God is not a copy and paste God. Truth never changes. But in order for us to work out Truth in our own lives, we have to stay close to the Holy Spirit because it does NOT always look the same.<br />
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"All Scripture is breathed out by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction and for training in righteousness, that the man of God may be complete, equipped for every good work."<br />
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This diversity in how we walk out our callings carries a very beautiful tension in it. I rub shoulders everyday in friendship with women who are living by the same Truth and the tasks we are called to are very different.<br />
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I got a phone call with a friend this weekend that my heart didn't even know it needed. She'd called wanting clarity on something that recently God had been talking to me about but I hadn't had time to fully process. God's sneaky like that. He knew I needed to rehearse those same truths, and I was not going to do without impetus from somewhere else.<br />
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Her initial text said this:<br />
"Hey Charis, I remember you sharing a few years ago how sometimes motherhood is hard for you because of the different dreams that were on your heart. I am totally in the throes of that right now and I'm really wanting to learn how to find peace in this season."<br />
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In all honesty, deep into this fourth kid business, my dreams have shrunk to both the immediate and practical:<br />
to have empty laundry baskets and a floor that cleans itself,<br />
to teach Cade to aim when he pees,<br />
to work out in peace,<br />
to literally be in a hut on an island where there's a whirling fan, a massive bed with white linens, and I am told to sleep for as long as I like- and since my quality time bucket has a hole, Chad can be there too but he has to be watching football on his ipad with earphones in and my kids can be playing in another room being supervised by my favorite highschooler Chloe.<br />
THIS IS THE EXTENT OF MY DREAMS LATELY.<br />
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But while we talked, I grabbed my journal and went to an entry I had written just a few weeks before that I'd almost forgotten about.<br />
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About a year ago I was asked to step into a role at our church that felt so out of my comfort zone and gifting zone (to be honest) and while it's not a part-time or full-time job, it requires a lot of my emotional and mental space some weeks. Ever since I accepted it, I've had this new wrestle in my heart. Is this "yes" stealing from my kids? How can I possibly be a good mom and a good anything else right now? Can I do both things well? Did call me to be a mom, or to be this?<br />
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I am not sure if men deal with this struggle. I've never heard Chad consider quitting his job because he thinks its taking him away from the kids. He has never once said he felt guilty for leaving them with me. Maybe some men do feel guilty. In our home, that's not the case. So Chad hasn't really understood me when I'm anxious for my children, wondering if they'll look back on their childhoods and not think they were truly epic. And if it wasn't, could it be because Mom was distracted, irritated over a million other things, and half-hearted? (Because somehow in my messed up thinking, if I didn't have this "job" to think about, I'd be Mary Poppins. Surely, right?!)<br />
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I took all this mess to God. I have so many friends who work part-time, full-time and feel CALLED to what they're doing. And I don't doubt them. But the wrestle is real. I was trying to sort through my own callings, leadings, promptings, purpose, designs, etc. As I journaled, I felt like God said it all boiled down to one question:<br />
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WHAT ARE YOU FIRST?<br />
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As Bill Johnson says, when God asks a question, I don't assume I know the answer. So I wrote out what I felt like He was saying.<br />
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First, you are a daughter. This teaches you worship, and identity. You are not an orphan. You are not a victim.<br />
Second, you are a wife. This teaches you love and faithfulness. You were created to be a lifelong companion to Chad, equal in worth, suited to best walk out life with him.<br />
Third, you are a mother. This teaches you leadership, how to champion people, and how to cover them well.<br />
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Everything else is fruit of those roles. I learn who I am by prioritizing being a daughter of God. I don't have to fight for my giftings, for my advancement, for my recognition, for my "time" in the spotlight. I can trust the Father with all my dreams, island get away and all.<br />
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In my life, the second role I received after being a daughter was being a wife. I learn how to love and how to be consistent and helpful, truly useful and practically beneficial by creating a safe place for my husband. It is a gift to walk with him. It is a privilege to know him. It is good to tell him that I believe he was created to lead our family well, and he doesn't have to be passive. Eve showed us all what happens when we take the reigns from our men. NOTE: IT DOESN'T END WELL.<br />
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And after I was made a wife, I became a mother. I learn how to lead others, how to believe in others, how to forgive, how to fight on behalf of others, how to inspire others, how to make others great by being a mom. Motherhood has taught me self-forgetfulness in the truest and sweetest ways. I am not jealous of my kids giftings, I am not trying to vicariously live through them, I am so proud of who they are and what they're like and they haven't even begun to try and impress me.<br />
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If I can be a daughter, then be a wife, and then be a mother, in my heart first, I can take on other roles without getting them confused. Being anything else doesn't take away what I am first and foremost in my life. I don't know what roles you'll walk in, what things you're taking on, and I don't have a cut and clear vision for what to say yes to and what to say no to. It will probably shift for so many of us all throughout our lives. Women's lives are so seasonal and transient that way. But staying connected to the Father, staying connected to what we are FIRST, as a daughter, teaches us how to live everything else out.<br />
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"So friends, take a firm stand, feet on the ground and head high. Keep a tight grip on what you were taught, whether in personal conversation or by our letter. May Jesus himself and God our Father, who reached out in love and <i>surprised</i> you with gifts of <i>unending help</i> and<i> confidence</i>, put a fresh heart in you, invigorate your work, enliven your speech." 2 Thessalonians 2:15-17 MSG<br />
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<br />Charishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00350951414218746391noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-880784308727448071.post-65142615920726504362017-08-30T12:15:00.001-07:002017-08-30T12:30:31.622-07:00Buy the Truth, and do not sell it<div>
Yall. My writing lately. I just want to say I have four kids and I haven't slept through the night in four months. I am hanging onto threads of sanity some days and mostly resemble that hamster that teachers keep in elementary classrooms. AM I MAKING ANY PROGRESS? IS IT JUST ME OR DID I LITERALLY JUST LOAD ALL THIS SAME CRAP INTO THE DISHWASHER YESTERDAY? HOW IS LAUNDRY DAY AGAIN? Lest that sound like I am complaining, I am actually a very happy hamster. I run the wheel and <i><b>I like it</b></i>. So there. But, it's still hard to measure my actual progress. Thank you, Jesus, for GRACE.</div>
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Onto the actual purpose for this blog: </div>
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BUY THE TRUTH AND DO NOT SELL IT proverbs 23:23</div>
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What a lovely command that is from Proverbs. I want to purchase the Truth for my life and never ever let go. But I am tempted to ask the age old question today, what is the Truth? And what does it look like to purchase it? To spend my life on it? Because I certainly do NOT want to waste time and money buying opinions and preferences. </div>
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I am feeling pretty angsty today. It's going to translate into this blog and in all of the all caps words...can't help it. Angst will come out even if only through punched out letters on a keyboard. I was up several times last night feeding a tiny human and reading chapters of a book written by a popular Christian author and I've had so many debates in my head with this author (who shall remain nameless) that I am now feeling like a two liter of soda someone shook up all day. SOMEBODY LISTEN TO ME. </div>
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This is my real issue with most Christian books: we are <i>mostly</i> opinion. Even when we quote a lot of verses, how we apply them can be opinionated. We can maneuver and manipulate and try to project on our audience the lens through which we see life. The problem is, nobody else has the exact same experience or mentors or childhood or factors that make up that lens. So I'm really bothered by this book because I wish the author would have started out something like this: </div>
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"Hey, these are my humble attempts at making sense of life. I am trying to read my Bible every day, stay in a healthy community, and process with the Holy Spirit on all of these issues. But most of this book is what I am learning or have learned and so it comes with a lot of opinions. Please don't use me to create a theology around. Please keep your brain intact the whole time. Glean where you can, leave what you need to. Feel free to disagree with me. Because, after all, the Truth is not a methodology, a systemized list of rules, or even a philosophy. The Truth is a Person and His name is Jesus. He asked in John 14 for the Father to send the Spirit of Truth to us, and so you have to consult with the Holy Spirit and ask Him for truth. I am truly sorry if my opinions on the following pages are presented as fact. Please be discerning and take what bothers you to people you trust and the Holy Spirit. Enjoy reading my thoughts." </div>
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This introduction would help me so much. It would set me up with expectations, and a careful filtering system. I wouldn't have to dislike the author so much. I wouldn't get so worked up. Oh, you just totally disarmed this whole firing squad in my head. You are not God. I am not either. Your experience with life isn't threatening Truth. We are not against each other. We are working this thing out side by side and we don't have to see everything perfectly alike to move the same direction. I can hear you and not have to think if I keep reading you are going to slowly dismantle all of my history with God. Thank you, boundaries. </div>
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Do you ever try to reduce all your learning into once sentence? Like when someone asks how you've been or what's on your heart and you're scrambling not because you don't have anything but because HOW DO YOU SUMMARIZE EVERYTHING.<br />
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If you and me were to strap all the kids in some double joggers and take a walk this is what I'd answer to that question:</div>
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I am learning that we can be on the same team and not have perfect agreement on every topic.</div>
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Like, I actually have ZERO friends who see life just the way I do. My own husband is on my team, he is so for me, he is my biggest encouragement. But he doesn't agree with every thought process I have or have to feel all my feelings or think all my thoughts. </div>
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Sometimes in conversation with Chad, I'll be mystified when he doesn't come to the same conclusion that I have. So I spend the next day and a half presenting the situation from a bunch of different angles, helping him examine it just the way I do and am <i>always</i> disappointed that he still has a different conclusion. He has <i class="">original</i> thought. His brain and my brain are really different. Different used to mean division. WHAT?? YOU LIKE RAP MUSIC? HOW DO WE SHARE THE SAME BATHROOM?? </div>
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Do you know how glad I am that Chad and I are different? I am so glad he doesn't share my tendency to overdramatize, overshare, overprocess. When something happens that sends me reeling, I am so grateful to ask him for his thoughts because his reaction is usually so wise and centered and so NOT MINE. Thank You, Jesus, that opposites attract. </div>
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I am also realizing lately how much I assume people agree with me. In regular conversation, I am tempted to alter certain phrases, swap out words, add in a few sentences so that what someone else is saying is actually what I <i>wish</i> they'd say. Like, how can I convince myself we perfectly agree so I feel peaceful with you? But maybe the whole point <i>isn't</i> that my closest friends and I would automatically agree on and think the same things. Maybe listening, and hearing what people are saying is more important than agreeing with them. We can actually have a conversation where we disagree and neither of us tried to persuade the other one. What a revolution that would be. </div>
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Do you know what is the scariest thing? GOD DOESN'T AGREE WITH ME. (I almost wanted to add 100 percent of the time and now I'm laughing out loud. WHAT IS MY PROBLEM.)</div>
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I am so obsessed with being right. Maybe that's not your bent. But it's for sure mine. I think it's actually RIGHT that I never use garlic from a jar but I press my own garlic cloves and my hands smell like it for days, and I've actually been offended that my sister overcooks her egg whites in front of me because softly scrambled eggs are gospel truth. I cannot believe it when a friend likes a hoppy beer or unsweet tea or gas station coffee (why is this all revolving around food?). I guess the point is, I think even how and what I eat is right. </div>
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Opinion can so easily feel like truth. Preference can feel like truth. But that doesn't make it true. Are you ever amazed when one of your closest friends can watch, read or listen to something you hate? Or are you ever genuinely stumped when they are friends with someone that you just cannot seem to get into? Being different is so exciting and terrifying at the same time. </div>
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I guess the point is, it would be worth the time to sort through our opinions and truths and figure out which is which. Is it true that everyone should do this and this or is that just my opinion? We'll actually have to crack open the Bible and weigh our thoughts- " A JUST WEIGHT IS HIS DELIGHT". I love how Psalms says that God stores up sound wisdom for the upright. I can ask Him what He thinks. Truth is not at the mercy of my opinions, or anyone else's. We are so dreadfully impatient to figure out where the boundaries are- to push for rules and codes and bedrock so we can justify our lives and our thoughts. I am so glad that the gospels don't disclose what kinds of food Jesus ate or what His hour by hour day looked like. I am certain that what we have in the Word is enough to build a life on. The other things, the opinion things, can be left as opinions. We can have them and celebrate them and share them, but we cannot make other people obey them or absorb them or adopt them. </div>
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Thank you Jesus, that YOU are the Truth. The living, breathing, forever reigning Truth that we all so deeply long for and crave. Reveal Yourself today. </div>
Charishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00350951414218746391noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-880784308727448071.post-57300469610233712402017-02-24T18:45:00.001-08:002017-02-24T18:45:38.376-08:00On Being A Mom<span style="color: #454545; font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;">How to be a mom and retain my patience, peace and personality</span><br />
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How to find sustainable rhythms in motherhood- getting used without getting used up. I'm three kids deep, the fourth nine(ish) weeks from being born. </div>
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I homeschool one in kindergarten. I only just stopped nursing a kid a few months ago and a few months into my fifth pregnancy. I miscarried a baby in July. I am training up a little man warrior, and will get to walk with three little women. I grew up with nothing more on my agenda than being a wife and mom- and being a missionary to Ethiopia. I've fulfilled the first two. And yet the life goal of motherhood has stripped me of my pride like nothing else ever has.</div>
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I am still constantly frustrated and ashamed at my own lack of patience, lack of time management, lack of foresight, lack of enjoyment in the mundane and daily tasks that motherhood entails. I get so busy cleaning up after them, I forget to enter into play with them. I stress over sleep patterns and eating patterns and wonder if I should or shouldn't vaccinate, what health tips I am totally missing. </div>
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Motherhood for me can oftentimes bring my greatest failures to the surface, just asking me to try and overcome them. But God.</div>
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How do I meet God here?</div>
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How do I juggle three little lives and still try and retain my own joy, my own personality? How do I be a mother and be me?</div>
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I never want to NOT be inspired by my friends who are moms. None of us do it exactly the same. I learn stuff from moms of one and moms of seven. I learn how to do laundry, how to travel, how to discipline, how to not fight every battle, how to laugh, how to educate, how to feed, even how to birth children from my other mom friends. But there's a fine line between inspiration and comparison and shame. I struggle with finding peace in my lane of motherhood. Am I doing this thing right? </div>
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I think the short answer is no. I'm not doing it all right. I'm imbalanced in so many areas and probably missing a lot of the pieces on the way. It reminds me of a Melissa Helser thought- she describes how when she first started parenting she was asking God about it and felt like He said "teach your kids to need me. There will come a day when they will outgrow their need for you, and that's a good thing. But they will never outgrow their need for me." </div>
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If I've ever known my neediness for God as a human, it's in motherhood. Nothing lays my heart bare like mothering, nothing pushes my buttons more, nothing makes me more defensive or feels more personal or jeopardizes more of my love or takes up more of my thoughts. I have to ask my kids forgiveness a lot, and together we have to go before God and let Him bring peace. My kids watch me repent- almost daily. But I'm believing even that is a win. </div>
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Its my finiteness that will press my kids to know Jesus. Where I fail, He won't. My kids don't need a mom who did everything right, they need a mom who knows how much she needs Jesus. They need a mom who demonstrates for them what to do when they reach the end of themselves. They need a mom who can say, guys, I am going to let you down- but JESUS won't. I don't have all the answers, but Jesus does. </div>
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Me pretending to be a mom-goddess wouldn't benefit my kids in the long run. They'd think and expect perfection from themselves was Gods idea. They'd have major dilemmas when they got on their own and realized they also fail at the very thing their heart loves to do most. </div>
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Where my imperfection and motherhood meet is the perfect launching pad for the Holy Spirit. It is the breeding ground for actual salvation. My kids need to see me in need of grace, and receiving grace, and activating grace so they will know how to do it in their own lives. So, scary insecurities about motherhood, I don't have to listen to you. Fear of messing up, I won't bow to you. Lies about my own personality getting reshaped, I'll reject you. My kids are seeing first hand what happens when Jesus walks with a human and stoops low to make her great for the millionth time. They're going to know Jesus isn't afraid of, intimidated by, or disgusted with weakness. They're going to know He "gently leads those with young". </div>
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Charishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00350951414218746391noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-880784308727448071.post-60707725758194897602016-09-30T11:43:00.000-07:002016-09-30T11:43:28.365-07:00<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Ever since we moved into this house, I've become enamored with nature. Eden and I have named the trees in our front yard, we've discussed the ancient legends of dryads because of a twisted maple that looks like she at one point might have been a dancing human. I've spent hours, literally, in a hammock strung between two trees just looking up at the leaves and watching nimble-bodied squirrels make terrifying leaps from branch to branch, and my children and I have squatted low to spot tentative chipmunks, examined empty carcasses of cicadas, caught lightening bugs in a ball jar, and of course, gathered too many earthworms than is right or reasonable after a rainstorm. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I've locked eyes with a bandit-faced baby raccoon, and watched at midnight while one attempted to use MY rocking chair as a hoist to get back onto my roof. I've had an encounter I don't want to repeat with some sort of fishing spider the size of my hand, and we have a groundhog that visits our backyard when he thinks we are away. But of all the critters we keep, my very favorite makes an almost daily appearance. She is never comfortable with us watching her, but by now she only glances back at us for a few moments before she continues doing whatever it is she came to do. I've found such courage from observing her. Cade sits in front of my bedroom window as long as I'll let him when she comes, and he thinks she is always happy to see him. His muted hello's through the windowpane don't do much to bother her, but she always turns around and looks him square in the eyes. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I can't really process deer hunters after having encountered her so many times. She is so graceful, so agile, so precious, and I know it sounds ridiculous but she seems like she is a real live person. Maybe that's just because Eden and I have been immersed in the pages of Narnia for the past few weeks, but I really wouldn't be surprised if she started speaking. If she were a human, she'd be an author of self-help books and an inspirational speaker. But she's a deer, so really I'm not sure if anyone but myself has the chance to celebrate her beating the odds. I saw her for the first time last year when we first moved in, and I was mesmerized watching her. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Either she was caught in a trap at one point or attacked by a predator, and she now only has three hooves. Her fourth leg is missing at least six or seven inches, but when she runs its impossible to tell. Even her walking limp is something like "poetry in motion". I could watch her forever, just because its so amazing. Last fall I saw her with three baby does, their picturesque little bodies covered in downy fur and spotted with snowball white spots. That was one of my first sightings of her, and she watched me defiantly while they snacked on some sort of overgrowth in our backyard. She was measuring me, letting me know that she was aware I was there, and clearly communicating that she wouldn't let me near her babies unless it was over her dead body. I remember my husband speculating that she probably wouldn't make it through the snowy winter, with her disability. Knowing so many hunters who love to hunt in neighborhoods like ours, where lots are nearly an acre of dense woods, I couldn't help but agree with him. I felt a sense of sadness for her, like I wished I could invite her and her babies to live under our deck for the winter. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I forgot about her until early this year, somewhere around February, when she came sprinting back into our lives. Several full grown deer stood around her, and she stared back at me through the kitchen window, her breath puffing out in circles around her as if to say, "I survive." I felt a new respect for this courageous animal. And when in June, new baby does were tracking her heels, I made the whole family come and watch. She has led those little ones who are growing in lightening fast speed, much like my own children, all summer long back and forth across our lawn. And anytime I spy her, she looks right back at me. I'm so glad she made it. And was fruitful. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">One of the many catchphrases in our house that I always put into use when we've got a new baby around, is that I want us to "thrive, not just survive." It's so tempting to let the chaos of life swallow us and let the daily grind of disciplines and chores squelch our ability to be grateful and live with so much joy in the moment. Parenting is such a gift, but its the kind of gift that requires constant work and attention. The more kids we're blessed with, the more I realize that parenting is no longer a side job, it is my full time, full blown, around the clock job. It's the best thing I can invest in right now. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">But so often, in parenting, I feel like I've got a bit of a handicap. Its a different handicap depending on the season, sometimes its just a lack of patience, of a constant feeling exhaustion, or relational discord taxing my compassion and storehouse of wisdom; sometimes its morning sickness from another pregnancy, or the demands of life outside of our home. I feel like I'm hobbling around, and my little ones are trailing behind me, looking up to me like I'm their biggest hero. And it's so humbling. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">When I spotted my deer-friend this morning out front, we all were eating at the table and so we crowded around the front windows and just watched her. She had a friend with her and between the two, they had five children following them. Her tell-tale limp sets her apart, and so I always know which is which. And for some reason, when I was watching her today, I felt so encouraged. I don't know a mom that doesn't feel like they are walking without a limp- and I know some AMAZING moms. Whether they're dealing with a deployed husband, or a husband who travels several nights a week, whether they've moved across the country and are isolated in their homes loving on little ones with a heart as homesick as ever, or they are walking through divorce and remarriage and step-parenting, or they've got to juggle jobs and motherhood, or walk the always courageous and never simple life of single motherhood- I know amazing moms who don't always get to choose the handicap they're dealing with, if ever. Something in our lives causes us to feel "not-enough" no matter the season of motherhood. But this fierce deer momma always has her limp, and yet she always has her children behind her. I want to be like her- and despite whatever handicap I feel like I've got, I want to thrive. I want to love my kids in the middle of it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">That's the invitation of God. Despite the issue, the working out our salvation, the beating back of all the flesh we've got, the struggle to not be bitter or jaded or disheartened, to still lead our young. To still love. To still be fruitful. What if my deer friend had just decided to quit after she was first injured? What if she had laid down in the forest somewhere and just fallen asleep, given up, realized her handicap would always make her limp and figured it was better to just NOT try? We have the option. We can let our handicap become our identity and let it bleed over into every bit of healthy thing in our lives. Or we can keep moving forward, keep loving, keep producing, keep dreaming, keep pouring out. Yes, we might walk with a limp and it might even be noticeable to people around us. But, when we run, when we get momentum on a gifting or a dream or an area to pour out, its no longer decipherable. </span><br />
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"but we have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellence of the power may be of God and not of us. We are hard pressed on every side, yet not crushed; we are perplexed but not in despair; persecuted but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed- always carrying about in the body the dying of the Lord Jesus, that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our mortal flesh.<br />
" 2 Corinthians 4:7-11Charishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00350951414218746391noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-880784308727448071.post-33932469029579346702014-05-30T05:21:00.000-07:002014-05-30T05:21:04.047-07:00Trust The Promise<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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"Every word of God is pure. He is a shield to those who put their trust in Him." Proverbs 30:5<br />
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I just finished a book by Brennan Manning called <i>Ruthless Trust</i>. As with all of his books, I was moved and frustrated with myself and hopeful and eager by the end. The journey of life with Jesus is all about trust, at least for me and Brennan. I'm so glad he understands it too.<br />
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I read just yesterday how easily Jesus' disciples deserted him in the garden when the soldiers came to arrest him. Matthew gives them no flattering moment of indecision, he just lays it out there: "Then all the disciples forsook Him and fled." (Matthew 26:56)<br />
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One minute I think I've eradicated fear from my life, and the next I realize how easily I succumb to its miserly lies. I fail just as many times as I successfully rest in Him, but my heart is growing more and more desperate. Every time I choose to walk in fear, I hate it even more. The self-protection that used to comfort me now only smells like betrayal of Jesus to me, and I guess that's a step forward. A small, seemingly insignificant transition.<br />
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I read this verse this morning and loved it. "Every word of God is pure." In my Bible, it explained that the word pure could also mean "refined, tested, found to be pure". In the commentary, it explains the word actually means to refine by fire, as a precious metal. Every word of God has been put through the fire.<br />
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Isn't that an encouraging thought? When I am at a precipice, so close to the edge where only fear and depression rage like seas beneath, and the only hope is a ragged looking promise from God's word that I pray can bear my weight- I can take comfort knowing that this particular promise has been tested by those who went before me. The words have proven able to carry the forerunners of our faith, and what appears only a few words on a page is actually the very lifeline that others have clung to and found able to carry them out to a resting place. And we know that resting place on the other side of faith is a glorious place, according to Isaiah 11:10.<br />
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I've had conversations with a few friends recently who confess that they are afraid to lean their whole heart on God. Total surrender, in their minds, is equated with painful trials and loss and grief. It's such a slippery place, that moment before we choose to give it all to Jesus <i>again</i>. The enemy comes in trying to convince us that God is capricious, cannot be trusted, and has some sort of sick need to snatch away our happiness like the character Gru on Despicable Me, who makes a kid a balloon dog just to pop it in the end. Our minds start racing, asking over and over, "What will this moment cost me?"<br />
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If only we had a correct view of Jesus, we'd happily just throw everything at His feet for the joy of Him. Of His love, of His face. I love how Graham Cooke says, "He's the happiest person I know." Little children flocked to Him, prostitutes and sinners and the most hopeless of men felt pulled to His side because of the magnetic hope that emanated from His very heart. There is no shifting shadow in Him, He doesn't bait and switch. He IS True. His name in Revelation 19:11 is Faithful and True.<br />
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I had a moment this week in Psalm 84, reading one of my favorite verses about how a swallow and a sparrow find a nest for her young near God's altars, and it hit me suddenly that God's Old Testament altar was a holy place, one only priests could be near, and yet little sparrows and birds, skittish under normal circumstance in anyone else's presence, found <i>His </i>presence to be so restful and life-giving that they built their homes there, and <i>He allowed them to</i>. He is a good, generous Father. If they can build a home in Him, certainly so we can we, for " you are more valuable to God than a whole flock of sparrows!" Matthew 10:31<br />
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I love Heidi Baker. A few months ago Bethel released a documentary about her and her ministry to the orphans of Mozambique, "Compelled by Love". I watched it one morning with tears literally streaming down my cheeks as she continually talked about what a joy it was and is to give everything she has and owns to Jesus, and she knows that when she arrives in Heaven, she'll wish she had more to give, because He is so worthy. And yet she doesn't look pinched and uncomfortable, she looks radiant. She looks full, she looks ALIVE. "Those who look to Him are radiant, their faces will NEVER be covered in shame." We will not be ashamed when we make the decision to cash it all in on Jesus.<br />
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When we reach our end, and the chasm of emptiness stretches before us, where only a promise from God's word about His character can offer us a way across to the other side, we can trust it. That bridge has borne many a faithful soul before. And we do not want to miss out on being among them, on the other side. Some else's fire has tested that promise before. It will not fail us. He cannot fail us.<br />
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"Therefore since we are surrounded by SUCH A GREAT CLOUD OF WITNESSES, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us RUN with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God."<br />
Hebrews 12:1-2Charishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00350951414218746391noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-880784308727448071.post-66846717879764546942014-05-06T10:49:00.000-07:002014-05-06T10:49:01.130-07:00The Exchange<div style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', 'Bitstream Charter', Times, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; margin-bottom: 1.3em;">
So for a few months now I've been writing with word limits on other blogs. I'm just going to admit it: today I didn't put a word limit on myself (nor did I attempt to really be linear in my thinking here). Tada. 1300 words straight from my heart to yours. You're welcome. </div>
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One of my dearest friends texted me today to tell me she is doing much better, in general, than she was a month ago. I told her it's hard to do poorly when the weather is such a gift. And I mean that. For me, when spring finally starts to beat back the icy hands of winter something in my heart sighs in great relief: I made it through another one.</div>
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The older I get, the more plainly I see spiritual truths woven into the fabric of our daily, physical lives. Last July, I felt the Lord close a door on a winter season of my life, and I could barely believe it when He promised me, "I have loosed your sackcloth and girded you with gladness" (psalm 30:11). I can remember the way the chalk felt in my hand as I wrote that verse out on our driveway the day He said it, and I felt hope bubbling up. </div>
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As I was sweeping our kitchen today I felt the familiar pull to fear, that temptation to fear what trial is lurking around the corner. And I had to confess it to Jesus, just like 2 Corinthians 10 says, taking every thought captive to make it obedient to Christ and being ready to punish any disobedient thought. But when I get to the heart of that fear, I'm not as afraid of the trial as I am afraid of my soul's inability to muster up courage to hope again in the MIDST of the trial. I am not so scared of what it is that may come, as I am scared that I'm not as resilient as I think. And to put it simply, I am afraid that as I grow older, I will let life squeeze all of the childlike wonder and hope out of my heart. </div>
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I've seen it happen over and over again to women, and I've watched how time wears on the shores of our hope until we are depleted of it. And we end up these bitter, old women who assume that God has nothing good to give, so we keep our hands tucked into our pockets, criticizing anyone who walks unhindered and unafraid. We call our reticence so trust "wisdom", and our reluctance to try anything new "experience". But what if I resolved, at age 26, to say once and for all: everyone I love will eventually hurt me and fail me at some level. And on the flipside, everyone I love, I will disappoint and fail. What if I just lived with abandon, and knew that at some level, the peaceful homeostatic phase of life will ebb and flow, but that there is always a reserve of joy for me?</div>
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I read today about a little 3 year old boy who died. I don't know his parents, and I don't know his story. But it was enough to unearth me. What would I do? My baby girl I just tucked into bed, the one I pray gets a long life and many good days (Psalm 34). Because we live in a fallen world, we experience the ache of it. If all creation is groaning and longing for the sons of God to be revealed, we surely get our share of groaning and longing as well. There are gross tragedies. They exist. I cannot ignore them, and I do not want to, because there is no merit in singing songs to a heavy heart (Proverbs 25:20). </div>
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As I was working through that moment, and literally had tears running down my cheeks, I turned on a song by Bethel called "Wonder", and it talked about never losing the childlike wonder of looking at the face of Jesus. And I saw that little boy scooped up in the arms of Jesus, and I realized that it's we who remain who struggle to maintain our wonder. His will never be thwarted again. But we must fight to retain joy. </div>
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I read Nehemiah today, just the first few chapters. Nehemiah's heart is breaking over his city, Jerusalem, because it literally lies in ruins. The walls are broken down and burnt, and the temple is destroyed. And he asks God for favor with a king, and gets it. He returns to Jerusalem, surveys the state of its brokenness and resolves to build it again.</div>
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It's a hard thing to honestly look at the rubble life leaves. It's painful. It's not an easy task. But for Nehemiah, he had to know how broken it was so he could decide how to rebuild. And it took time. It took many hands and laborers, and they received so much opposition. At one point, their enemies ask, "Can they bring the stones back to life from those heaps of rubble- burned as they are?" (Nehemiah 4:2)</div>
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Some seasons burn up the fruitfulness we thought we had, and scorch our most precious possessions. We feel bereft and empty. Naked and exposed and broken down. </div>
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As they begin the slow work of rebuiling, Nehemiah has families stationed together to fight and oppose the ones who would hinder their work. For some reason, this makes me think of my job as a mom. It's my job to stand in the gap for my family and fight for joy. If I grow up and let life squash all the life out of me, it would be a sorry scene for my children to witness.</div>
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It's easy to be carefree when you have no cares. But as life stretches on, the voices of cares get louder and louder. How will we pay for this? What will you do if you get sick? What will you do if your husband gets sick? Who will be your friends? What if your children rebel? </div>
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But I want to be less burdened as life goes on. The Kingdom of Heaven belongs to those who are like little children because the little children don't concern themselves with matters too great and too lofty for them. It's a lie to think I can shoulder half of the anxieties the world tells me to carry. I love in Matthew how Jesus asks, "Which of you by worrying can add even a single hour to his life?" (Matthew 6:27)</div>
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When Jesus rebukes Martha about her frustration with Mary He says, "Martha, Martha, you are worried and bothered about many things. But only one thing is necessary, for Mary has chosen the good part and it will not be taken from her." Mary wasn't doing anything except sitting at Jesus' feet, listening. What if the more life screams at me to pay attention to its demands, I just sat at Jesus' feet? Listening. Hearing. Receiving back the courage the world wants to leach from my heart. Pouring out my love on Him, telling Him He is worthier than my fears. One of my favorite Grace Livingston Hill quotes says, "Better hath He been for years than all thy fears." </div>
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Some of my favorite Old Testament stories are the ones where God has the people worship before a major battle, and how that worship either breaks down insurmountable walls of Jericho or scatters the enemy like in 2 Chronicles 20. Or the story about Paul and Silas worshiping in prison, and suddenly God causes a giant earthquake to shake the prison, open the doors, and shatter everyone's chains. There is something powerful in the weapon of worship. After Nehemiah begins to rebuild the wall and sets up families to fight, he says this incredible line: <span style="line-height: 1.5em;">"Neither I nor my brothers nor my men nor the guards with me took off our clothes; each had his weapon, even when he went for water." Nehemiah 4:23 </span></div>
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He stayed in a constant attitude of readiness. Ready for attack, in season and out of season just like Paul charges Timothy in 2 Timothy 4:2. And as I was being tempted today to anticipate what the next trial might be, I think the Lord's answer to my heart was that if I would keep my eyes fixed on Jesus, and keep my heart in a place of openness towards Him, I'd be ready. The store of courage, the vat of hope would never run dry, "even in darkness light dawns for the upright." psalm 112:4</div>
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Until we get to Heaven, our lives are a strange mixture of joy and sorrow. We experience both. But the invitation is to have the Holy Spirit, the one who has been summoned to our side and to our aid, walk beside us, guiding us into all Truth, giving us comfort, granting us wisdom, steadily pumping joy back into our limpid hearts. As one of my favorite friends Nancy says, we are constantly given the option to make an exchange with the Holy Spirit: our crusty, dry faith for His fresh hope, our depleted strength for His fresh anointing, our short-sighted eyes for His clarity and focus. Holy Spirit, I choose whatever You have in Your hand for me today. </div>
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Charishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00350951414218746391noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-880784308727448071.post-71975470830343914212014-04-16T05:05:00.000-07:002014-05-06T10:57:40.693-07:00Writing ElsewhereSo I've not written in a long time, but that's not because I haven't actually been writing on occasion. <br />
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One of my friends from church owns a blog that I've written for once a week and I thought I'd link up the articles here just in case any of you wanted an occasional one thought to think about. I write every Friday, and in the next few weeks I'll start at another blog writing twice a week, and I'll post that link too. <br />
The best news is, I have a word limit on these blogs. Which is helpful. So it won't take an hour to make it through a single post. I rarely can keep within the confines of the word limit, but I keep telling myself "the lines to me have fallen in pleasant places" in hopes that one day, 500 words will be sufficient. <br />
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With this meager income, I can now afford to pay my own gym membership, or buy a scarf and a shirt every month, or own a dog. For me, its an accomplishment.<br />
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Anyway, just wanted to put this link on here in case anyone is interested- you can copy and paste it to your browser if its not working or click it if that works! <br />
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<a href="http://csahm.com/author/charis/">http://csahm.com/author/charis/</a><br />
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<br />Charishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00350951414218746391noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-880784308727448071.post-38170596266688524082014-01-17T11:16:00.000-08:002014-01-17T11:16:00.549-08:00The Fight for PeaceI was debating yesterday whether or not the window for sending New Year's cards has passed. I still can't decide. But I am grateful its a new year. Ever since I had Eden I feel like years get all muddled together, and I can't ever figure out when I did certain things. I have to measure it by what stage Eden or Cade was at- and time seems to have suddenly grown wings. But I love getting to a new year. I have heard more debate this year on resolutions than ever before, and all these intelligent intellectual people writing them off. That's fine. I get it. Most of them never get kept. I'm less into resolutions too, the older I get, and more into waiting on God for what He might speak about this new year. <br />
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What's waiting on God? For me, its sloppy. Sometimes I get real superstitious about it and think if I do certain things God's voice will be easier to hear. Sometimes I stick straight to just seeing if He will speak through a verse in the Bible, rather than listening for a phrase in my mind or a word on my heart. God is so gracious. Whether I'm being a southern Baptist or a charismatic, I always run into His grace. He is good like that. I love how one pastor puts it, "Jesus is the Word of God, it's going to be hard to find a time when He isn't speaking." Oh heart, take time to listen. <br />
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I wrote a synopsis to 2012 a few days before Cade was born, wherein I confessed that the entire time I was pregnant with him, I dealt with anxiety. I'd never encountered it before. I didn't' even have a name for it. I just knew I felt this heavy weight on me that would keep me up at night, worrying about how to flee nuclear winters with Eden and how to survive an apocalypse. <br />
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A few months after that, I was invited to a Bible study for a few moms, and the opening passage we examined was 1 Peter 3, where it talks about how women should make themselves beautiful. Some verses are so familiar that I have a hard time actually reading them. They don't affect me as much as they should. But I had never read, like really read, the last portion of that scripture. <br />
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"Likewise, wives, be subject to your own husbands, </div>
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so that even if some do not obey the word, they may be won without a word by the conduct of their wives, when they see your respectful and pure conduct. </div>
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Do not let your adorning be external-the braiding of hair and the putting on of gold jewelry, or the clothing you wear- but let your adorning be the hidden person of the heart with the imperishable beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which in God's sight is very precious. </div>
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For this is how the holy women who hoped in God used to adorn themselves, </div>
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by submitting to their own husbands, as Sarah obeyed Abraham, calling him lord.</div>
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<strong>And you are her children, if you do good and </strong><em><strong>do not fear anything that is frightening</strong>."</em></div>
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I don't understand a lot of this Scripture. Like the part about calling her husband lord. I do understand the last verse though, and it struck me almost a year ago and has been on my mind ever since. I am not to be afraid of anything that is frightening. When I first read it I had to shake my head. I was not only afraid of things there were actually frightening, I'd also become afraid of a million things that were potentially frightening, or marginally frightening. The question all last year on my heart was, "How, Lord?" If He calls us to it, then we can do it. But I see all around me the affects of anxiety and fear, especially on women, and I just don't understand how to get from where I am- to where this verse points I ought to be. <br />
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I knew step one was acknowledging I didn't know how to do it, & that I needed to admit I was living in a wasteland of fear. It's a lonely place, the sort of place where you are completely alone, under a starless night, cold, shivering, hearing the howls of distant animals and watching your own heart become depleted of joy, depleted of hope, depleted of love. I'd read Psalm 23 about my Good Shepherd leading me beside still waters, and I kept thinking, I literally need an IV of Psalm 23 to my soul. <br />
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My fear-to-rest ratio was way out of whack. Fear-Fear-Fear-Little tiny rest-Fear-Fear-Fear. <br />
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At the end of the summer 2013, one of my dear friends here came home from a five week ministry school at a farm run by Jonathan David Helser and his wife. Selah. Anything involving five weeks on a farm with two worship leaders sounds really good right about now. <br />
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One night she was over, and for some reason Cade wasn't settling down to go to sleep. I'd spent about 8 months agonizing over what to do with a baby who didn't take a pacifier. It sounds like a small thing when you don't have kids to hear about babies who don't sleep, but when you're the parent, that reality looms large and depressing. I was deliberating aloud with Nancy whether to go get my baby or to let him cry or to change his diaper, or the other million options that I could attempt-- and Nancy stopped and said, "Holy Spirit, what should Charis do for Cade?"<br />
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I suddenly felt the atmosphere in my heart shift. God is God. He delights in the details of our lives. Why not ask Him what to do? It's so simple. But it's the hardest principle on earth to live out. Why not invite His opinion? Why not trust His voice to speak? I don't remember the outcome of that night. I just remember that I felt a little bit rebuked. Like, how much time do I waste trying to solve a puzzle I cannot solve? The other day I was getting ready in my room, where we have a giant box from a new carseat for Eden laying on the floor-- both kids are enthralled by it-- don't judge me-- and I suddenly heard Cade's muffled cry. When I walked into the bedroom, I saw his toes sticking out of the box-- he had crawled in head-first. And he was so angry. But don't I do that? I crawl headfirst into a box that is too narrow for me to turn around in and then I freak out like I should know how to get myself out. But I need someone big and strong to come and pick me up and pull me out. And maybe put the box somewhere I can't reach it again. <br />
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As I was thinking about this year, 2014, and the dreams I have on my heart for it- one of them is to fight to walk in peace. It sounds counter-intuitive. But it's the phrase on my heart. Peace is available. But it's not free. It's not just going to settle on me all the time like a blanket around my shoulders. Some days it might. But other days, its going to be a fight. I must contend for a place of peace. <br />
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I've loved Psalm 18 ever since college, when I would return to it over and over during a hard season back then. But its the Psalm on my heart for this season as well. The Lord is teaching me how to contend for my peace, and the different positions that I need to take. He does the work, yes, but He invites me to work as well. He's not enabling us to continue to be infants, just sucking on a bottle, lying completely helpless. He wants us to grow up in Him, and learn how to be a child of the Lion of Judah. Remember that African proverb, "the daughter of a Lion is also a lion".<br />
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In Psalm 18 David says, <br />
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"You light a lamp for me.<br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> <strong> </strong></span><span class="text Ps-18-28"><strong>The <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span>, my God, lights up my darkness</strong>.</span></span><br /><span class="text Ps-18-29" id="en-NLT-14124"><sup class="versenum">29<strong> </strong></sup><strong>In your strength I can crush an army;</strong></span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"><strong> </strong></span><span class="text Ps-18-29"><strong>with my God I can scale any wall</strong>.</span></span></div>
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<span class="text Ps-18-30" id="en-NLT-14125"><sup class="versenum">30 </sup>God’s way is perfect.</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-18-30">All the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span>’s promises prove true.</span></span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-18-30">He is a shield for all who look to him for protection.</span></span><br /><span class="text Ps-18-31" id="en-NLT-14126"><sup class="versenum">31 </sup>For who is God except the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span>?</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-18-31">Who but our God is a solid rock?</span></span><br /><span class="text Ps-18-32" id="en-NLT-14127"><sup class="versenum">32 </sup><strong>God arms me with strength,</strong></span><br /><span class="indent-1"><strong><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-18-32">and he makes my way perfect.</span></strong></span><br /><span class="text Ps-18-33" id="en-NLT-14128"><sup class="versenum">33 </sup>He makes me as surefooted as a deer,</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-18-33">enabling me to stand on mountain heights.</span></span><br /><span class="text Ps-18-34" id="en-NLT-14129"><sup class="versenum">34 </sup><strong>He trains my hands for battle;</strong></span><br /><span class="indent-1"><strong><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-18-34">he strengthens my arm to draw a bronze bow.</span></strong></span><br /><span class="text Ps-18-35" id="en-NLT-14130"><sup class="versenum">35 </sup>You have given me your shield of victory.</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-18-35">Your right hand supports me;</span></span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-18-35">your help has made me great.</span></span><br /><span class="text Ps-18-36" id="en-NLT-14131"><sup class="versenum">36 </sup>You have made a wide path for my feet</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-18-36">to keep them from slipping.</span></span></div>
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I have been loving kickboxing classes lately. I might look a fool doing them, but I just can't get enough of the punching and kicking and feeling like if somebody came up to me in a dark alley, I might could hold my own. Maybe. But the truth is, its kind of been mirroring what's been going on inside of me this past year too. Fighting the fear, fighting the voices that come raging in and <em>demanding</em> I respond-- one more school shooting, what am I going to do about it when my kids get to school? One more failed vaccination-- one more horror story-- one more disease. All of them act like they must have a response from me. The truth is, they have no right to demand any fear from me. Fear is torment. Yes, there is a tormentor; but he is NOT my master. Jesus does not torment. He gives peace that isn't like the world's. He lays open our racing hearts and calms them, He breathes rest into our souls. "Come to me, all you who weary and heavy burdened and I will give you rest." <br />
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I am learning how vital it is that I take what is intimidating me to the throne of God. Lay it out before my Good Shepherd, and ask Him how to fight. The fight I am called to, I have found, is most often praying. Learning to pray, learning to put faith into action, learning to pray God's heart for my city, the schools in it, the kids in it, the people in it. Learning to pray over my kids not out of fear, but out of faith. <br />
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I think when God initiates something one place for one person, its kind of a like an open invitation for everyone else to learn it, take, savor it too. So, anyone who has been battling anxiety or fear, feel free to accept this invitation too: This year, I've been invited to continue to walk <em>purposefully</em> into the pasture of God. In John 10 Jesus says His sheep go in and out and find pasture. He has not left us as orphans in a crumbling, wicked world. He sent His Helper to walk alongside us. I found a verse in 2 Peter 3 two nights ago that I am holding onto as well: "Therefore, beloved, since you are waiting for these, be diligent to be found by him without spot or blemish, and <em>at peace</em>." He isn't coming back for His church that is wigging out, running frantically away from everything. If He says we are to be at peace, than He will provide the grace for us to walk in it. <br />
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"God is our refuge<sup class="crossreference" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-14616A" title="See cross-reference A">A</a>)"></sup> and strength,<sup class="crossreference" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-14616B" title="See cross-reference B">B</a>)"></sup><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-46-1">an ever-present<sup class="crossreference" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-14616C" title="See cross-reference C">C</a>)"></sup> help<sup class="crossreference" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-14616D" title="See cross-reference D">D</a>)"></sup> in trouble.<sup class="crossreference" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-14616E" title="See cross-reference E">E</a>)"></sup></span></span><br /><span class="text Ps-46-2" id="en-NIV-14617"><sup class="versenum">2 </sup>Therefore <strong>we will not fear</strong>,<sup class="crossreference" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-14617F" title="See cross-reference F">F</a>)"></sup> though the earth give way<sup class="crossreference" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-14617G" title="See cross-reference G">G</a>)"></sup></span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-46-2">and the mountains fall<sup class="crossreference" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-14617H" title="See cross-reference H">H</a>)"></sup> into the heart of the sea,<sup class="crossreference" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-14617I" title="See cross-reference I">I</a>)"></sup></span></span><br /><span class="text Ps-46-3" id="en-NIV-14618"><sup class="versenum">3 </sup>though its waters roar<sup class="crossreference" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-14618J" title="See cross-reference J">J</a>)"></sup> and foam<sup class="crossreference" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-14618K" title="See cross-reference K">K</a>)"></sup></span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-46-3">and the mountains quake<sup class="crossreference" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-14618L" title="See cross-reference L">L</a>)"></sup> with their surging."</span></span></div>
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<span class="indent-1"><span class="text Ps-46-3">Psalm 46:1-3</span></span></div>
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<span class="indent-1"><span class="text Ps-46-3"><strong>Fight the darkness in your life with Jesus to lay hold of your peace, the peace Jesus makes available to us every day.</strong> Do not let the enemy torment you any longer and endure it thinking it's just how you're wired or its the road you are called to walk right now. Jesus says satan is the father of lies, and he cannot speak any truth. The truth is, peace has been offered to us. We <strong>can</strong> walk in it. Receive the free gift Jesus gave us: </span></span></div>
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<span class="indent-1"><span class="text Ps-46-3">Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid. John 14:27</span></span></div>
Charishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00350951414218746391noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-880784308727448071.post-4744160258960707092013-10-23T05:20:00.001-07:002013-10-23T06:16:06.078-07:00Psalm 33 & Shepherd Thoughts<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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"By the Word of the Lord the heavens were made, and all their hosts by the breath of His mouth" psalm 33:6<br />
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This verse makes me think of being little in Illinois in the mornings of winter, pressing my face against a cold pane of glass, watching in delight as my breath forms a cloudy ring. Cade's to that age (and height) now, where he can pull up and press his chubby little lips against anything and everything. I think we left a few ring marks on at least two of the houses where we stayed in Texas this past week, complete with what I am sure is now his dried snot and saliva. Gross. But endearingly gross.<br />
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And what if this verse shows us that God has, like my favorite portion of <u>Orthodoxy</u> suggests, the tendency to be like a child, and way back in the beginning He pressed His mouth against the dark, cold pane of emptiness and breathed. And the remnants of His breath are our starry host, the entire universe, the galaxies, the potential other universes. He has really good breath. Really beautiful breath. And that same breath was what breathed into the dry, crumbling dust of the earth and caused the crown of creation to be brought to life. Us. We are the remnants of His breath too. In Proverbs 8 when it talks about creation, it says wisdom (Jesus) was "rejoicing in His inhabitable world, delighting in the human race." He loves us and likes us too.<br />
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This has probably been the worst week of my parenting life. I've been a complete mess, and so have my kids. Explosive diarrhea, running out of clothes in an airport, throw up in the pack and play kind of mess. My patience has been totally zapped. And at the end of the day, I just want to cry and tell the Lord that I don't deserve to be a mom. But I keep feeling, even at the end of these kind of days, this undeserved blanket of affection settling over me. Do you ever go through seasons like this? Like all I want is to hear Him say, "Yep, you've screwed up. I'm about to pull the rug out from under you like you deserve you worthless little..." but He never once has said that. Or made me feel that. In fact, the past few weeks its been too much. Too good. Everytime I got to have a quiet time, its like He's bending over my heart, just patiently rearranging all the mess I've made and its so sweet I just want to cry.<br />
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I've been reading <u>Hinds Feet on High Places</u> the past month or so, and if you haven't read it and you don't feel loved by God and you feel afraid of where He might take you in the name of love, READ IT. It has rocked me, and I've seen God as the Good Shepherd that He is. Today is October 23rd, which means that I ought to be reading Psalm 23 in my quiet time, but the Bible was left open to Psalm 33, which is how I landed on the aforementioned verse. But I know what Psalm 23 is about. Everybody does. The Lord is my shepherd.<br />
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Isn't it interesting that David, presumably hundreds of years before Jesus ever was incarnate, got a revelation about the heart of God that Jesus would later come and totally verify? Jesus proclaims in John 10 that He is the Good Shepherd. David says the Lord is His shepherd centuries before. David got revelation about God's character because he spent time searching it out. Or maybe it was less searching, and more seeing. Earlier in Psalm 33 it says, "The earth is full of the loving-kindness of the Lord."<br />
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I was laying in a hammock in a backyard in Waco on Sunday, while Chad went to get us food and my two sick babies were asleep, and I was so hunkered down in my own frustration that I almost didn't see it. Right above my head, in my line of vision, were these gorgeous glossy leaves arching over me in inquiry, their gnarled branches proudly boasting they'd seen many days rooted in that Texas soil, and bright yellow butterflies floating and hovering in their midst, and four birds singing and in tandem diving and dancing in the sunlight, all against a piercingly blue morning sky where little puffs of clouds hung contentedly over me. And it was then I thought, this beauty is for us. A love-song sung over us every day. "The Lord your God is <i>in your midst</i>, a mighty one who will save. He will exult over you with gladness, He will quiet you with His love, He will exult over you with loud singing." (zeph 3:17)<br />
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"All His work is done in faithfulness" Psalm 33:4 tells me. But I don't really need it to tell me that. I see it everyday. His faithfulness to me. To let me start again. To refill my love-cup when its on empty. To quiet me when I'm rushing, to refresh me better than any down time can.<br />
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Mom told me when I was little some of the profound things about God calling Himself a Shepherd, but I will never get over the idea that when a sheep wanders off, the Shepherd has to discipline her by breaking her legs, and then He carries her around His neck while she heals, so she learns to love His presence, and never wanders off again. This week, in my failure, I have also felt more near the Lord than ever. Maybe something about seeing the sad image of what I can be when I'm tired, disgruntled, and annoyed makes me realize my need for God's help even more. I fell asleep last night thinking about how I wished I could be a sheep around His neck. I started to wonder what that would be like. What would He smell like? As a Good Shepherd, whose out in the field, working, tending, care-taking, providing? Would His hands feel calloused where he holds me? Would I feel the rumble of His voice in His chest? Would I sense His heartbeat? I don't know. But I know that's how near He holds us. And I don't want to miss out on breathing deeply of Him today.Charishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00350951414218746391noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-880784308727448071.post-20215204237577227332013-09-04T08:02:00.001-07:002013-09-04T08:02:39.370-07:00The Wisdom in WeedsYesterday Eden and I went outside, where I shivered in the Indiana September morning cool, and picked weeds. It kind of turned into me picking weeds, and Eden talking about how much Daddy loved her, how God made the sky, wasn't it a beautiful day Mommy?, and picking up "baby" leaves and cooing, "oh, how sweet". Truth. So I was the one picking weeds. It was one of those times that the parallels from nature to real life were so easily drawn that it was kind of cliche. I ended the time with a sore lower back, a huge trashbag full of nasty weeds, and a renewed outlook on life. Seriously.<br />
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It's crazy how full earth is of natural things that play out spiritual principles. I was wondering the other day over how poetic Jesus must have been, using all those parables to encompass massive truths that basically overturned social, cultural, and spiritual misconceptions. Maybe the disciples just wanted Him to be literal sometimes. But I think He is so in love with the good work He made He felt like it would be wasteful to not incorporate it. He did it all on purpose, you know. It was His idea to make things that ingeniously have multiple layers to it. Sometimes when I read Tolkien or Sir Arthur Conan Doyle or C. S. Lewis I start to think, if these men were so smart...and could create such depth in their imaginations, how smart is God? How much are we missing out on just becuase we don't take the time to explore all the millions of Truths He has put into our every day life that are exclaiming, "HE IS!" Like Romans 1:20 says, "For since the creation of the world, His eternal power and divine nature have been clearly seen, being understood <i>from what has been made</i>, so that men are without excuse."<br />
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I could make a list of excuses why our flower beds have been neglected this summer. Something that involves trips to Texas, my son having surgery, his 21 days of recovery where he wore arm braces and basically I was pregnant again except this time the 20 plus pounds weren't safely encased, immobile, and most importantly, soundless and opinionless. But now that its September, and our neighbor's house still hasn't sold, (could it be our lawn?) I decided it was time. Needless to say, I had a hard time even seeing our intentionally planted flowers and bushes from the weeds that had overtaken our soil. It made me frustrated at some points because a lot of our plants didn't even bloom this year, and I am blaming it on the massive weeds, that were readily going to seed and sending out deceptively pretty yellow and white flowers. We put money into our plants, not to mention a lot of time spacing them out, planting them, watering them, and then one three month period of neglect, and suddenly it was as if all that time had been wasted. The unintentional had overrun what we were intentional about. Proverbs 24:33 "A little sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands to rest, and poverty will come upon you like a bandit, need like an armed man."<br />
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See where I am going with this? You can't make this stuff up. It's like God is by nature such a TEACHER, and His desire is so great that we'd learn His truths, that He just can't help himself. Here, He says, I will put it everywhere. Anywhere. He doesn't stand far off, laughing at our ignorance. He is practically shoving it in our faces. Acts 17:27 "He did this so that they may seek God, in the hope that they might feel their way toward Him and find Him. Yet He is actually<i> not far</i> from <b>each </b>one of us." Or maybe this verse is better validation: Jeremiah 33:3 "Call to Me, and I will answer you and tell you great and unsearchable things that you do not know." Or Colossians 1:9- "That you may be <i>filled </i>with the knowledge of His will in all spiritual wisdom and understanding."<br />
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Lately I have felt the Lord really addressing bitterness in my heart. Which is weird, because I always flatter myself to think I'm not a bitter person. I can't think of things I haven't forgiven. But I have been realizing that bitterness isn't about a one time forgiveness, and for me, its deeper than the basic offense/hurt/forgiveness/freedom cycle. It happens on a moment by moment, thought by thought basis. Throughout my day I find myself wrestling with a lot of thoughts, and the tone of them are often bitter. "I bet this person has never sacrificed like I do as a mom"...(vomit on myself for thinking that.) Or "If I had the kind of means this person has, I'd be happy and free too" equally as disgusting. Or "I could really give them a lesson on [whatever thing I think I've really mastered in my life, which clearly by this thought alone shows I haven't mastered love, which binds all things together in unity according to Colossians 3:14]." Do y'all see what I'm talking about? Bitterness, for me, isn't just limited to the normal scope. It's pervasive, and deceptive, and it wears a lot of different identities."Look after each other so that none of you fails to receive the grace of God. Watch out that no poisonous root of bitterness grows up to trouble you, corrupting many." Hebrews 12:15<br />
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I so often wish that sin would wear one of those flashing lights, like "Hey, I'm sin, I'm here to destroy your life, your marriage, your kids' lives, your relationships, and your faith." How much hurt would I avoid if I knew sin at the moment it stepped into my life. But most often, it's disguised, and it comes in with my intention or desire. It's the unintentional, habitual thoughts that can take down years of victory in a certain area of my life. Like those weeds, it's not that I planted them. Chad didn't plant them. They came of their own accord, blown into our yard maybe by the dust in the air from our neighbors, or originating by their own spontaneous accord. Either way, they exist. And they rob the plants I intentionally put in our yard of their nutrients', and they are a pain to take out. In fact, some of the ones I wrestled with most had little younger counterparts that were so much easier to yank out and I kept berating myself for not getting out in the yard sooner. Had I, the work would have been twice as fast.<br />
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Yesterday I was reminded to be careful, to be on my guard against bitterness, in all of its forms, to get it at its root, to keep it from growing and multiplying, and to stop it from robbing the nutrients from the intentional fruits of the Spirit that the Holy Spirit has painstakingly been tending to in my heart. It's easy to be overrun by sin. God is the ultimate worker in our hearts, though, supplying us sun and and soil and rain and nutrients, our job is just to make sure that we listen to Him and get at those weeds quickly.Charishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00350951414218746391noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-880784308727448071.post-13866545781481097902013-05-28T10:23:00.000-07:002013-05-28T10:27:18.622-07:00Growing DownI started this blog post around Easter time, and am just now finishing it. I don't know what that says about my pace of life. Sometimes I think I'm busy, but then I realize I stay at home, and just orchestrate naps and eating times and bath times and bed times. It's not that busy. But let's be honest, my ability to multi-task is waning. So I finished it, a few months later, but at least it's finished. <br />
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I think Easter is my favorite holiday. Especially since moving north, its definitely the one that brings the most hope. I've been trying to explain it to Eden, and I just keep telling her it means we get to go to Heaven. But it's more than just that. Easter means we get to operate as if we already are in Heaven while we are still on earth. "If any man is in Christ his a NEW creation. Old things have passed away, behold, all things have become new!" 2 Corinthians 5:17<br />
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I wish I could live with that Easter-reality every day. Every morning is new, every day I wake up and get to behold the newness of life. I get to start over again, again.<br />
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I feel like in some ways I've really embraced getting older. But in some ways, I'm still trying to hold some things at arms' length. I still forget that I'm 25, and a mother of two. And to a lot of people, I'm old. I was on a run Saturday, pushing/heaving/wrestling our double jogger up a hill when I saw a very familiar neighborhood interaction between two girls and a guy...which culminated in a lot of sideways glances and no words exchanged. (I was going slow enough I got to really watch the entire thing) And I was struck at how long ago all of that feels. Not that I miss it. But its amazing how resolved those issues are now, when I used to so struggle with them: am I beautiful? Will someone notice me? Will someone love me?<br />
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Maybe the largest evidence of my age is the fact that Chad and I were ecstatic after we bought a Honda Odyssey a few weeks ago. We gush over its space, its recliner-like seats, its navigation/bluetooth/back-up camera, and its sliding doors...because its a van. A VAN. And I'm excited about it. Ever since we put our car up for sale, we've been back and forth trying to decide which car will suit our needs. A few months ago, I swore I'd never get a van. I was set on anything BUT a van. But then as Chad and I were discussing our options and we both came to this conclusion: the only reason I was avoiding vans was for image. And what's interesting is, I no longer/maybe never even fit the image I think I am trying to protect. In fact, the sobering thing is that no one we know would even be surprised that we would be driving a van. It's kind of a running joke in our house how trendy we aren't. So it's not like I need to maintain my coolness. I walked out of the bedroom the other day ready to go shopping only to realize I had Cade's spit up down my shirt. Can't get more classy than that. The more I try to avoid looking like a mom, the more I realize its what I am. It's my season right now. But before I go making our identity about how un-trendy we are, let me just say the point is that the Lord has really used this whole van-situation to highlight my own ideas of my identity. </div>
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Its funny how quickly we like to categorize each other. I moved a few times growing up, and I can remember I used to sort people into groups...and ironically, every new place had similar "types" of the people I left behind. The funny ones, the serious ones, the athletic ones, the flirtatious ones, the melancholy ones...etc. But sometimes this grouping can become really crippling. Even in marriage, I've put Chad in the even-keeled category. He doesn't fluctuate in emotions very much, and he is basically the same person in front of every person he knows. Which is wonderful...but that category I've put him in doesn't lend itself to alot of leg room. I can remember the first year of Eden's life Chad would suddenly start getting a little teary-eyed when she would hug him, or when we would watch videos of her, and I'd be kind of frustrated...like, dude there is only room for one emotional person in our relationship. But I am learning to stretch his box. To not keep him so confined. It's okay for him to be multifaceted and for him sometimes to not act exactly in accordance with his category.<br />
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Its interesting how what we think of ourselves dramatically affects how we interact with each other, but chiefly, how we interact with God. A few years ago I was giving Josh, my younger brother, a free lecture on life and he dismissed me by saying, "Charis, you've always been the deep thinker in our family." Which probably launched a debate between Lindsay and Josh and I about who really is the deep thinker...and I can resolve the argument only by saying that each of us thinks deeper about different things. But regardless, it was the identity Josh had given me, whereby he got to dismiss any truth I might say because it wasn't HIS identity to think the same way. Don't we do this all the time? And don't we do it to ourselves? We let our decisions define us. We let our occupation define us. And in my case, recently, I let the car I drive define me. But I want to slap a bumper sticker on the back that says, "I am not JUST a van-driving mom".<br />
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What I believe about myself determines how far I will go, how deeply I will press in, how much hope I will have. Just like that verse in Proverbs 23:7 says, "For as he thinks within himself, so is he." I've realized during exercise how necessary it is for me to talk to myself about my ability. If I get to a hard part in a run or half way through a set of burpies and I start to say, "Charis, you just had a baby. You aren't in good shape right now..." I will give up. But if I get to the point where I want to stop and I say, "You can run for three more minutes"...or "You can do this last rep"...I can perform.<br />
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I love having Eden interact and talk, and its so great to train her to love God from a young age. Not in a forced way, but talking about Him to her, about what He created outside, what He does for us, how much He loves us. Recently she got up from a nap and told me she went to Heaven and saw Jesus. Who knows if that actually happened. But why not? The great part about being two and a half is that Eden doesn't have an identity of herself that gets in the way of her willingness to believe. She doesn't sit around lamenting all her sins, and worry she isn't worthy of going to Heaven. So she goes to Heaven at nap time, or dreams about it, and doesn't have a complex about it. She's not acting prideful, and she isn't living in fear of condemnation. She just takes Jesus at the words we tell her about Him. Obviously, she doesn't get every part of it. She probably repeats what we say a lot, but sometimes its just amazing how out of the blue she'll look at me and tell me, "Jesus loves me so much." And I'll tell her, "Baby girl, if you can believe that truth now, you're set for life."<br />
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There is something about growing up that hardens our willingness to believe. I know it happens for some people earlier than others. We get jaded by failure on the part of others, on our own part, and what we perceive to be on God's part. So we lose our hope.<br />
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I was doing homework for the James study I am in this morning, and one of the questions was about what things die when we give in to sin. I started to think about the times in my life where I've wrestled with habitual sin, and even right now, my inability to stay patient and live without anxiety. And I realized that when I give in to sin it kills off my ability to dream. My horizon gets clouded, and I start to think thoughts that isolate me from the nearness of God. Thoughts like: "I am just a failure. I won't ever produce the kind of fruit God wants, so He won't ever be pleased with me. And if that's the case, I'd better just throw in the towel." I've dealt with guilt and shame just like everyone else has in their lives, and its exhausting.<br />
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As we get older and get to see our own failure, we start to 'fret against God'. Proverbs 19:3 says, "The foolishness of man twists his way and in his heart he frets against God."<br />
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I have seen some amazing people emerge from addictions and abuse, and turn to follow God, but in a few steps they take a stumble, and rather than reach up and grab God's hand, they just close down their hope. They draw the curtain on their hope and they decide they're going to stay down. Sometimes we let sin become our identity. Or we think thoughts like, "I've never really been the spiritual one, not like [so and so]. So I might as well keep doing it on my own." It's that trapping identity that can often bring such paralysis.<br />
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There is a decorative block above our guest bathroom toilet that reads: "Live as if you'll die tomorrow; learn as if you'll live forever." Not sure that anyone ever gets a chance to read it, but I love it. Because the reality is, we will live forever. Somewhere. And I want to keep growing the older I get. A pastor I love says that we don't grow up in Christ, we grow down. The end goal is to be like little children who inherit the Kingdom because they don't think they have all the answers. Eden's new favorite question is why. We ask it about everything. Why do I wear lipstick, why did Poppy paint his hydrangeas blue, etc. She knows she doesn't know. She knows she wants to know. She knows to ask. And we all need that grace, to ask and grow and admit we don't have all the answers, and what is more, we don't really know who we are without the illuminating grace of God in our lives. I don't want to get old and excuse any discipline or change or diligence by saying that I'm just made "this" way...I want to get old and every day be transformed "into that same image, from glory to glory." 2 Corinthians 3:18.<br />
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And if I've placed you in a box, I'm sorry. I don't want to box you in, and I don't want you to box me in. Among all the creatures on earth, we are the only ones who have the capacity to be transformed from the inside out. To die differently than we were born. In essence, the only ones to be redeemed. <br />
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Charishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00350951414218746391noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-880784308727448071.post-90888824140368281512013-02-13T08:23:00.001-08:002013-02-13T08:48:19.268-08:00When God Turns the Light OffEden's just now two and a half, and within the past two months, her ability to communicate has exponentially increased. She's like a walking chatterbox, and even right now, she's standing on her princess potty (because why go potty in it when it makes such a perfect stepping stool that you can stand on and see yourself in the mirror?) and telling her own reflection all about going to the doctor to check her heartbeat. <br />
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After years of wishing I could hear her thoughts, I am suddenly aware that the majority of my day is responding to them. It's kind of amazing. What's also amazing is how adamantly she can want certain things. Her vocab is a work in progress though. She still gets certain words wrong, but because I'm around her all the time, I interpret her without even having to think about it. Like when we're playing upstairs and she decides she's had enough of the princess tent and wants to go back downstairs where her princess trike is waiting, she tells me she wants to go play upstairs. And I get it. So we go downstairs. Even though every time she calls the downstairs upstairs I correct her, it still hasn't clicked. Down is up. And on is off. It's giving me a headache to even think about. She usually tells me not to turn the TV on, when she means she wants me to not turn it off. This is getting confusing. My mom was here before Cade was born, and she taught Eden that my name is Charis Rebekah. But Eden can't handle it. If I try and tell her that my name is Charis Rebekah, she gets really upset and says, "No, you Mommy." Which is true. But I'm also Charis Rebekah. But its kind of useless to argue the point. I don't know why Chad gets to by Daddy Chad without any argument. For some reason the idea that I might be someone else is particularly upsetting. <br />
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Last night we were driving home from dinner and Eden said, "Hey, somebody turned the lights on! [meaning someone turned the lights off] God, turn the lights on." This has been going on for a few weeks now. Eden isn't a fan of the dark. When we go into a restaurant while it's still light out, but walk out when it's dark, she's confused. And she frequently likes to ask God to turn the lights back on. But I've been trying to explain that it's good that the lights are off, that we get night time because it means it's time for bed and we get to rest so we can play more tomorrow. But again, that kind of logic doesn't really appeal to her. She'd rather do without the night. What's funny is that I agree with her. Ever since I was little, I've hated the dark. My main struggle with winter isn't the cold, or the snow, or the ice as much as it is the dark, seemingly ever-shortened days. <br />
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I was thinking about it last night, how Eden hates the dark, but how God created it. It's His idea. And it's for our good. I tried to google why night is necessary, and there were a bunch of reasons, but mainly its proof that the earth is going around the sun, and that way the entire earth gets warmed. If the earth stayed still, and we got sunlight on only spot, the rest of the earth would be uninhabitable and cold. And I hate the cold. And I hate being cramped, so if I got sun all the time and everyone on earth had to cram into the state lines, it would be uncomfortable. So I'm glad for night. God knows best. <br />
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I am an awful lot like Eden though, with Jesus. I frequently ask for things that I don't really mean. I learned this lesson with special significance eight weeks ago. I was 40 weeks pregnant, completely full term and in comparison with Eden, I was past full-term. And I told God I was ready to have Cade. I was finished being pregnant. We were scheduled for an induction on December 18th, my due date. Chad and I went to the doctor the night before where we discussed the process of induction, and when I got home, I began to realize I still didn't have total peace about it. But I told myself that it made perfect sense for me to force Cade out. Tons of women do it, without any harm to mother or baby, and besides, my mom had already been in town for a week, my dad and brother were coming for Christmas day and I definitely thought I needed to have a one week old before they arrived so I could avoid the first week craziness...and physically, I was just sick of being pregnant. As I was preparing dinner that night, I started to think back to the week before, when in a quiet time I had read Psalm 37: 7 and this verse stuck out to me, "Rest in the Lord, and wait patiently for Him." <br />
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The last thing I felt that week of pregnancy was patience. It didn't help that about four times a day I got a text asking if Cade had arrived...trust me people, if he had arrived, you would know. But I knew God gave me that verse. So I was reflecting on that verse and what it meant for me that night before our scheduled induction, and Chad walked into the kitchen and announced that he didn't feel peace about going to get induced the next day. It was like someone had popped the already wilting balloon of confidence in my mind. "Me neither," I admitted to him dejectedly. <br />
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So we texted my doc, and let her know we wouldn't be going through with the induction. And the next morning, despite my wishes otherwise, Mom and Eden and I went up to the hospital for a routine ultrasound that would check to make sure everything was okay with this full-term baby who was taking his sweet time getting announced to the world. And the ultrasound tech spotted for the first time Cade's cleft lip. She wasn't sure if it was in conjunction with his palette, and she wasn't sure the severity of it. She didn't know if he would be able to nurse, and she basically couldn't give me any guarantees that he wouldn't need to be in the NICU in order to thrive. <br />
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The first thing I felt when she told me was relief...she had become so suddenly serious that I thought something really terrible had happened. A cleft is a great problem to have. As much as I'd rather not see my son go through surgery in his first year of life, this is a great surgery to have to face. And once I got with Chad, we both realized how gracious God had been. <br />
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It wouldn't have been the end of the world to be induced that day without knowing about Cade's lip, but it would have been far more difficult. The delivery would have been a little traumatic, going in with the assumption that everything is perfect with your baby, and hearing that something wasn't right. It might have been difficult to process. <br />
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I realized that what I had prayed wasn't really what I meant. I asked God for Cade to be born early, or on his due date. I thought I was ready. But God knew my heart, that I desired to be ready for Cade. That I wanted to be prepared for his birth. In Romans 8:26, it says that the Spirit Himself intercedes for us, and later in verse 34 it says that Christ Jesus intercedes on our behalf. And in 1 John 2:1 it says that we have an advocate/intercessor with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous. In a lot of ways, its like Jesus interprets my meaning. He knows my heart better than I do what I really mean, and more importantly, what I really need. And so I got the answer to my prayer, Cade arrived when I was ready. A week and a day later, after refusing to research any sort of clefts online, and recruiting a lot of my friends to pray with us that Cade would be healed, that he would be able to nurse, and that he would only have a cleft lip and not a cleft palette, Cade was born with every doctor and nurse who saw him declaring that his cleft was one of the most minor cases they had ever seen. And the child eats just fine. He gained four pounds in four weeks, and from the ever-increasing double chin, I'd say he is probably still gaining. ;-)<br />
<br />
Sometimes God turns the lights off, and a lot of times, its in a far more difficult way than the one week I faced where I was asking God to heal my son, and trying to realize that either way, God was good. But during that time where the lights were off, and my heart was trying to pray and understand and have faith and not be afraid of what could be, God was also storing up light in my heart. There is a verse in Psalm 97:11 that says, "Light is sown for the righteous, and gladness for the upright in heart." Even in your dark time, somewhere in heaven, God is preparing a store of light for you, and a vat of gladness with your name on it. It might not come as quickly as mine did, with a peaceful delivery of a perfectly healthy little boy whose little cleft makes him look like an adorable cartoon lion. And I don't know how many nights we might be assigned throughout our life, but I know that God is trustworthy. And that He is faithful to His word, and if He says He stores up gladness and light, we can rest our weary souls on that eternal truth. <br />
<br />
And just like I know what Eden really means when she tells me she wants me to not turn the TV on so she can continue to watch her Angelina Ballerina, Jesus can interpret our imperfect prayers, and all the while fulfill the desire of our hearts. Because He knows the best way to get us to the point of fulfillment, and that like the Psalmist says, "all of our fountains are in Him". <br />
<br />
<br />
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<br />Charishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00350951414218746391noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-880784308727448071.post-79809509548346374752012-12-13T12:47:00.000-08:002012-12-13T18:14:22.712-08:00AdventI feel in writing today its sort of like I'm calling a friend I was supposed to have called a few months ago and totally forgot about...and now its kind of awkward and there are somethings to be explained.<br />
<br />
Like how I was planning on writing daily for the 30 days of May. and I did. Twice. It's so typical me. Big ideas, poor execution. <br />
<br />
I like to think maybe my excuse is a little bit valid. I started that blog in the throws of the first trimester of pregnancy. And unlike my rather uneventful pregnancy with Eden, this baby has made his presence known and felt in every month. The first few months, I dreamt about what it felt like before nausea became a constant companion. Thus, an unsuccessful attempt to blog every day in the month of May. <br />
<br />
But now it's December and May was almost eight months ago. And this baby is allowed to be born any day now. In fact, if he were like Eden, he'd be making his debut tomorrow. At four. Oh how I wish he would. <br />
<br />
And during these past eight months, my mind and heart have been in a different season than ever before. I could list the various circumstances that caused it, but truly I feel like I'm just now surfacing from months of searching. Not searching in the sense of wandering away from Truth, but finding out that the Truth looks and acts and moves without consulting me. It's like that verse in Psalm 115 that says, "Our God is in Heaven and He does whatever He pleases." <br />
<br />
Over the past 3 years of marriage, I feel almost like all I've been learning is the goodness, the kindness, the enduring love and faithfulness of God. How faithful He is to all of His promises, and about what those promises are-- I have been learning so much about how to hang my hat on the character of God as revealed through His word. And I think part of me began to think that if I continue to love Jesus, my life will look and feel the way I perceive safety, protection and hope. The kind of thoughts that Job's counselors and friends had, that if bad is happening in your life, it's basically your sin, or your fault. In my search for the truth about God and His character, I began to think I understood Him perfectly. And, like the countless before me, I have learned these past few months that God will not be summed up. He will not be forced into the confines of my understanding. Bill Johnson says it this way, "You get the peace that passes understanding when you give up your right to understand." But who among us is brave enough to follow what we cannot understand? <br />
<br />
Trying to reconcile the tragedy, brevity, reality of this world with the image of God as a loving, faithful Father isn't always easy. In fact, I'm learning its <em>rarely</em> easy. And over the past months, despite how safe my life has been from dark and depressing things, I've watched people I love and care about exposed to various caustic and hostile elements of life. And it left me reeling. <br />
<br />
Where is God when a four-year-old is fighting stage four cancer despite the millions of passionate, faithful people praying on her behalf? Where is God when a perfectly healthy, godly couple loses a baby? Where is God when a man is wrongly accused, and still pays the punishment for something he didn't do? Where is God when a woman who lives her life solely to please Him is plunged into the depths of tragedy in losing a father, a friend, a love, and in them the substance of her dreams?<br />
<br />
I was sleepless one night after hearing a few of these real life stories from people I love, and I could feel my heart putting up fortresses. When you start realizing how little control you have over your own life, your own health, not to mention the lives and health of friends and family, it is so terrifying. What is more terrifying is that I never will be in control. I felt like for a few months I was holding God at a distance, afraid that if I left Eden, Chad, my family, my life, in His court, they'd be tossed to the four corners of creation and I'd be left alone. And for some reason I thought if I cocooned them in my heart, they'd be safe. <br />
<br />
I've seen friends' faith shipwrecked by tragedy. By unexplainable, unreasonable sadness and injustice that exists in the world because the enemy of our souls exists. They lose heart, they think that a good God would not allow evil. And so they walk away from Him. During these months of wrestling over these issues, I know I cannot abandon faith. I <em>know</em> that's not the answer, because most of those friends' lives are even more miserable now than ever. I <em>know</em> God exists, I <em>know</em> He is good because His word says He is good, but there is a gap between my knowledge of God and my knowledge of the world. During that night, I felt the Lord wake up my heart to this:<br />
<br />
"Charis, you are spending your energy trying to understand who I am. But you're gathering all the evidence from outside circumstances, trying to fit together an image that isn't a just representation. I never intended for you to discover my character based on what's going on in the world around you, but to have FAITH in my character <em>despite</em> what it is going on around you. I have given you the Word to describe and explain me."<br />
<br />
It reminds me of that verse in Proverbs 25 that says, "It is the privilege of God to conceal a matter, and the privilege of kings to search it out." And Jesus, according to Hebrews 1, "is the <em>sole</em> expression of the glory of God [the Light-being, the out-raying or radiance of the divine], and He is the <em>perfect</em> <em>imprint</em> and very image of [God’s] nature." So we get a bearing on the character of God not just throughout Scripture in His promises, but in the very life of Jesus. And when Jesus encountered human tragedy, loss, death, and decay, He didn't respond as a stoic, He didn't respond as uncaring, He didn't respond as if it's what we deserved. He wept. <br />
<br />
Why did Jesus weep when He saw Lazarus' tomb? He knew He was able and was going to raise his friend back up from the dead. I don't think anything Jesus did was haphazard; He says it Himself in John 5:19, "Jesus gave them this answer: "I tell you the truth, the Son can do <em>nothing</em> by himself; he can do <em>only</em> what he sees his Father doing, because whatever the Father does <em>the Son also does</em>." So why is Jesus, who can literally ONLY do what He sees God doing, crying at a funeral of a man He will raise from the dead in just a few seconds? I think the answer is that it's His nature to have a broken heart over the brokenness in our world. <br />
<br />
Life isn't predictable. Even when we know God, some might say <em>especially</em> when we know God. We can't formulate how healing works, how to avoid death, how to avoid sorrow, how to avoid loss. We can bank on the fact that despite anything, despite the fact that Jesus guarantees in John 16 that in this world we will have trouble, we can take heart. He has overcome the world. And at the end of every one of my fears, even if all of them were to come to life today and be lived out on the giant screen of my heart, I have a home in the heart of God. And He is an ever present help in times of trouble, His grace is sufficient for me, and when I awake, I will be satisfied for I will see His likeness. The truth is, there isn't any other option <em>but </em>to trust God. David is so wise, in Psalm 34 to say, "I sought the Lord and He delivered me from <em>all</em> my fears. Those who look to Him will be radiant, no shadow of shame will darken their faces."<br />
<br />
Graham Cooke says, "Sometimes the grace of God allows you to <em>enjoy</em> what is happening, and at other times, the grace of God allows you to <em>endure</em> what is happening." <br />
<br />
I was talking with one of my friends who is in the midst of a "perfect storm" of events in her life, who has suffered so much in the past few months and I was stunned at her words. "I wish I could go back and tell myself not to be so afraid," she confided to me. "I have spent years being so afraid of these things happening. But its nothing like I thought....I still cry, I feel loss, but I have never felt more enveloped in the tangible presence of God as I have lately. For every realized moment of sorrow, He has been nearer and better than I could have ever imagined." Standing on the outside of her grief, her personal loss, her heart ache, I can't fully appreciate her pain. But I can be convinced that God is being faithful, right now, to her. And He will be for each of us, in whatever season we are in. God cannot deny Himself, and He calls Himself our comfort, our helper, our strong tower. <br />
<br />
psalm 57:1 "in the shadow of your wings I will take refuge, till the storms of destruction pass by."<br />
<br />
Just like cold is the absence of warmth, and darkness is the absence of light, death and decay is the absence of God. From the moment Adam and Eve sinned, death and destruction entered into the world. But also from that moment, we see God already had a plan in place for mankind to be reconciled-- put in right standing again with Him. Even in the midst of the first of millions of acts of rebellion on the part of our hearts towards God, God orchestrates a way for us to get back into a right relationship with Him. He refused to let us live without hope, even for a moment. And its so appropriate that this season is the advent season-- the expectation and celebration of the birth of the One who is reconciling the world to God, and the one who is our Hope. <br />
<br />
It's been really amazing to be pregnant this month and realize that (even if our calenders are wrong) Mary was pretty much just as pregnant as I am. And she was carrying that Hope, the Messiah, the anticipated One, in her womb. If only we could understand fully the gift of Jesus, the promise of His hope, the way He loves us so perfectly. We wouldn't be afraid. <br />
<br />
I love how John 1 explains Jesus:<br />
<br />
"In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things were made by him; and without him was not anything made that was made. In Him was <em>life</em>; and the life was the light of men. And the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend it." <br />
<br />
I think its interesting that the word for comprehend in the Greek is katalambano, which means to lay hold of (in the mind as well, which is where we get the translated word comprehend)...because even now, in the darkness of the world, it can be hard to understand the Light. But I refuse to let go of Jesus just because I cannot explain or understand perfectly the what and how about the pain the present moment. I do not want to keep in the dark, when there has been an invitation to walk in the Light. I will lay hold of Him, because He has already fastened an iron grip on me, and nothing can take me out of His hand. <br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
The people <sup class="crossreference" value="(<a href="#cen-ESV-17832F" title="See cross-reference F">F</a>)"></sup>who walked in darkness<br />
<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Isa-9-2">have seen a great light;</span></span><br />
<span class="text Isa-9-2">those who dwelt in a land of <sup class="crossreference" value="(<a href="#cen-ESV-17832G" title="See cross-reference G">G</a>)"></sup>deep darkness,</span><br />
<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Isa-9-2">on them has light shone.</span></span><br />
<span class="text Isa-9-3" id="en-ESV-17833"><sup class="versenum">3 </sup><sup class="crossreference" value="(<a href="#cen-ESV-17833H" title="See cross-reference H">H</a>)"></sup>You have multiplied the nation;</span><br />
<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Isa-9-3">you have increased its joy;</span></span><br />
<span class="text Isa-9-3">they rejoice before you</span><br />
<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Isa-9-3">as with <sup class="crossreference" value="(<a href="#cen-ESV-17833I" title="See cross-reference I">I</a>)"></sup>joy at the harvest,</span></span><br />
<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Isa-9-3">as they <sup class="crossreference" value="(<a href="#cen-ESV-17833J" title="See cross-reference J">J</a>)"></sup>are glad <sup class="crossreference" value="(<a href="#cen-ESV-17833K" title="See cross-reference K">K</a>)"></sup>when they divide the spoil.</span></span><br />
<span class="text Isa-9-4" id="en-ESV-17834"><sup class="versenum">4 </sup><sup class="crossreference" value="(<a href="#cen-ESV-17834L" title="See cross-reference L">L</a>)"></sup>For the yoke of his burden,</span><br />
<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Isa-9-4"><sup class="crossreference" value="(<a href="#cen-ESV-17834M" title="See cross-reference M">M</a>)"></sup>and the staff for his shoulder,</span></span><br />
<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Isa-9-4">the rod of his oppressor,</span></span><br />
<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Isa-9-4">you have broken as <sup class="crossreference" value="(<a href="#cen-ESV-17834N" title="See cross-reference N">N</a>)"></sup>on the day of Midian.</span></span><br />
<span class="text Isa-9-5" id="en-ESV-17835"><sup class="versenum">5 </sup><sup class="crossreference" value="(<a href="#cen-ESV-17835O" title="See cross-reference O">O</a>)"></sup>For every boot of the tramping warrior in battle tumult</span><br />
<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Isa-9-5">and every garment rolled in blood</span></span><br />
<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Isa-9-5">will be burned as fuel for the fire.</span></span><br />
<span class="text Isa-9-6" id="en-ESV-17836"><sup class="versenum">6 </sup><sup class="crossreference" value="(<a href="#cen-ESV-17836P" title="See cross-reference P">P</a>)"></sup>For to us a child is born,</span><br />
<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Isa-9-6">to us <sup class="crossreference" value="(<a href="#cen-ESV-17836Q" title="See cross-reference Q">Q</a>)"></sup>a son is given;</span></span><br />
<span class="text Isa-9-6"><sup class="crossreference" value="(<a href="#cen-ESV-17836R" title="See cross-reference R">R</a>)"></sup>and the government shall be <sup class="crossreference" value="(<a href="#cen-ESV-17836S" title="See cross-reference S">S</a>)"></sup>upon<sup class="footnote" value="[<a href="#fen-ESV-17836d" title="See footnote d">d</a>]">[<a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=isaiah%209&version=ESV#fen-ESV-17836d" title="See footnote d">d</a>]</sup> his shoulder,</span><br />
<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Isa-9-6">and his name shall be called<sup class="footnote" value="[<a href="#fen-ESV-17836e" title="See footnote e">e</a>]">[<a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=isaiah%209&version=ESV#fen-ESV-17836e" title="See footnote e">e</a>]</sup></span></span><br />
<span class="text Isa-9-6">Wonderful <sup class="crossreference" value="(<a href="#cen-ESV-17836T" title="See cross-reference T">T</a>)"></sup>Counselor, <sup class="crossreference" value="(<a href="#cen-ESV-17836U" title="See cross-reference U">U</a>)"></sup>Mighty God,</span><br />
<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Isa-9-6"><sup class="crossreference" value="(<a href="#cen-ESV-17836V" title="See cross-reference V">V</a>)"></sup>Everlasting <sup class="crossreference" value="(<a href="#cen-ESV-17836W" title="See cross-reference W">W</a>)"></sup>Father, Prince of <sup class="crossreference" value="(<a href="#cen-ESV-17836X" title="See cross-reference X">X</a>)"></sup>Peace.</span></span><br />
<span class="text Isa-9-7" id="en-ESV-17837"><sup class="versenum">7 </sup>Of the increase of his government and of peace</span><br />
<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Isa-9-7"><sup class="crossreference" value="(<a href="#cen-ESV-17837Y" title="See cross-reference Y">Y</a>)"></sup>there will be no end,</span></span><br />
<span class="text Isa-9-7">on the throne of David and over his kingdom,</span><br />
<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Isa-9-7">to establish it and to uphold it</span></span><br />
<span class="text Isa-9-7"><sup class="crossreference" value="(<a href="#cen-ESV-17837Z" title="See cross-reference Z">Z</a>)"></sup>with justice and with righteousness</span><br />
<span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Isa-9-7">from this time forth and forevermore.</span></span><br />
<span class="text Isa-9-7"><sup class="crossreference" value="(<a href="#cen-ESV-17837AA" title="See cross-reference AA">AA</a>)"></sup>The zeal of the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> of hosts will do this.</span></div>
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<br />Charishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00350951414218746391noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-880784308727448071.post-31887539761611694882012-08-10T12:47:00.000-07:002012-08-10T12:47:25.940-07:00Becoming AwareSome days I go to spend time with God and I think I am doing it more for His sake than for mine. I have this idea that God will be more gracious to me, more kind to me, more satiated if I just give Him my attention. It's usually on those days that I end up realizing that He never needs me. He doesn't need my flattery, my flighty attentions, my patronizing. And during those times I never walk away without the realization of how desperately, painfully, and deeply I need Him. You see, I was made to spend time with God. Each of us were. It doesn't look the same on any of us, but we were made for encounter with Jesus. From the very first man ever created to the very last man who will be born, we were made in the image of God with the purpose of walking with God in that perfect, unspoiled intimacy that Adam enjoyed with the Lord in the cool of the day. <br />
<br />
Today I purposed to come up to our computer room and stay here with the Lord until I got some things settled in my heart. I've been wrestling over an issue in my mind, and I keep having all of these thoughts that are related to it that I know I can't carry any more. I was telling Chad the other day about how often I own thoughts in my head that I shouldn't be owning. I've heard so many times about how you can't help what you think, but you can <em>always</em> help what you do with the thoughts that land in your mind. <br />
<br />
For example, one of my pet peeves is when people (and the Lord knows I do this a ton) use this sort of excuse for a sin pattern: "I'm just wired this way...I just am a depressed person...I just am more sensitive than most people...I just get worn out easier..." etc. Do I think we need to know our own personal limitations and have a keen awareness of what makes us fall apart? Of course. We need to own up to our faults, our failures, our unique temperaments so that we can work on what stinks...and then we need to do the hard work of asking the Lord to uproot the crud and leave the good. We need to be willing to put ourselves in the position of saying, "I'm not right. I'm in process. I'm not perfect yet. But I'm not willing to sit around and do nothing about this glaring issue in my life." I've never told someone that they have a booger in their nose and they regretfully respond, "Well I'm just a snotty person." People want to take care of their boogers. And junk in their teeth. Why aren't we just as eager to take care of the flaws in our inner person?<br />
<br />
But back to my owning thoughts that aren't mine to own...So often the enemy-- who is called the father of LIES-- spits a lie at my feet, still steaming from its time macerating in his nasty belly, and I purposefully pick up the lie and think, "I must have dropped this." And soon I'm walking around holding this nasty lie and thinking it came off my person. But it didn't. It's not mine because I'm not the daughter of a liar. I'm the daughter of THE TRUTH. <br />
<br />
You know, holding a lie is kind of like picking up a wasps' nest. It's a bad idea on multiple levels. First, it's a nest, full of furious wasps, and I'm carrying it like a baby. No matter how gentle I am with it, it's going to erupt all over me. And one lie, just like one nest, carries a billion potential injurers. A lie doesn't stay contained. It stings me all over. And if I don't get rid of that thing and RUN the opposite direction, I could end up a swollen, puffy, poisoned, potentially hospitalized mess of flesh for a while. <br />
<br />
So anyway, I came up to this room today thinking I wasn't going to leave until I could walk of the room without the lie attached. I don't want it. I'm leaving it here. Usually I assume that when I'm believing a lie, or thinking about a lie, God is super far away from me. And I opened to Psalm 139. So I read it. And I was struck again at the nearness of God. Even when I'm believing/thinking/acting on a lie. He's close. <br />
<br />
I've been wondering lately what the secret to intimacy with God is. Is it more discipline? More hunger? More trials? But in Psalm 139 I think I found the answer: AWARENESS. Awareness of God's presence, and the LOVE that emanates from Him to me.<br />
<br />
I started writing out all of the verses from the chapter that talked about God's proximity to us. It's pretty staggering:<br />
"O Lord, you have searched me and known me"<br />
"[You] are intimately acquainted with all my ways"<br />
"You have laid Your hand upon me"<br />
"even there, Your hand will lead me, and Your right hand will lay hold of me..."<br />
"for You formed my inward parts, You woven me together in my mother's womb"<br />
"I will give thanks to You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made"<br />
"and in Your book were all written the days that were ordained for me, when as yet there was not one of them."<br />
"how precious are Your thoughts toward me O God! How vast is the sum of them, were I to count them, they would outnumber the grains of sand"<br />
"when I am awake, I am still with You"<br />
<br />
It's hard to not want to be with someone who really wants to be with you. Someone who really just loves and adores you. And when I became aware today of God's nearness, despite my struggling mind, I suddenly felt peace. It doesn't matter to Him that I have this glaring issue, because He's the only one who can fix it anyhow. And He still wants to be with me. So the lie loses its hold. <br />
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That's the thing about walking WITH God. If I were walking with Kate Middleton (oh a girl can dream), I would walk differently than if I were walking by myself. I wouldn't look bored or insecure, I'd feel honored by her presence. That's just a girl. If I'm walking with God, and I have an awareness of Him, I'm not going to pick up the lie Satan throws. Because I won't think it's mine. It won't look or smell or seem like anything that should belong in the company of someone who walks besides a good, loving God. <br />
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The secret to living free from sin is living with Jesus. And Jesus isn't like a task master holding a bunch of rules over my head. He loves us. He loves me. I love this quote from Brennan Manning, and it came into my mind today while I was thinking about all of this, and trying to believe the verses in Psalm 139 applied to me, and that God really wants to be with me, and is truly acquainted with all of my ways:<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">"In the 48 years since I was first ambushed by Jesus in
a little chapel in the mountains<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>of
upper Pennsylvania, and in literally the thousands of hours of prayer and meditation,
silence and solitude over those years I am now utterly convinced that on
judgement day the Lord Jesus will ask each of us one question and <em>only</em> one question:</span></div>
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'Did you believe that I loved you?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">That I desired you?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">That I waited for you day after day?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">That I longed to hear the sound of your voice?'</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The real believers there will answer,'Yes Jesus, I believed in your
love and I gladly shape my life in response to it. But many of us, who are so
faithful in our ministry, our practice, our church going, are going to have to reply: "Well,
frankly, no sir, I mean I never really believed it. I heard a lot of wonderful sermons and teachings about it. But I always thought that was a way of speaking. A kindly lie, some Christians' pious pattern.'</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">And <strong>there</strong> is the real difference between the real Christians, and the nominal ones. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">No one can measure like a believer the depths and intensity of
God's love. And no one can measure like a believer the effectiveness of our
gloom, pessimism, low self esteem, self hatred and despair that block God's way to us. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Do you see why it is so
important to lay hold of this basic truth of our faith? Because you are only
going to be as big as your own concept of God. Remember the line of the French philosopher Pascal, '</span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">God made man in his own image, and man has returned the
compliment.'<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">We often make God in our own image: just as fussy, rude, judgemental, unloving and impatient as we are. The God of so many Christians I meet is a god who is too small for me,</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> because He is not the God
of the Word, He is not the God revealed by Jesus Christ... who in this moment comes
right to your seat and says, </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">'I have a word for you. I know your whole life story,
I know every skeleton in your closet, I know every moment of sin, shame, degraded love
that has darkened your past; right now I know your shallow faith, your feeble
prayer life, and your inconsistent discipleship..and my word to you is this, I dare
you to trust that I love you <strong>just as you are</strong>." </span></div>
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When you're grumpy, unloving, bitter, angry, selfish, shamed by sin...you have just as much right to access God's presence as when you're feeling pious, successful at discipline, qualified for the Kingdom, decorated by good deeds and good thoughts.</div>
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I've always wondered why James 4:7 says to, "Resist the devil, and he will flee from you." Why is the enemy so eager to leave if all I've done is just stand up to him in my puny flesh? The answer lies in the very next verse. "Draw near to God, and He will draw near to you." Satan flees when we resist, because resistance towards him means we are pushing towards God- and God's response time must be pretty quick. After watching the Olympic track events the other night, Chad and I practiced getting down in the blocks and bouncing up to run as quickly as we could. (Yes, that's what we do in our free time.) But maybe the Lord is kind of like those Olympic runners, who are constantly working on coming out of the blocks as quickly as possible so they can get to their goal. When we resist a lie, and we resist the father of lies, it's like that gun going off at the starting line of an Olympic race, and God's coming. </div>
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<br />Charishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00350951414218746391noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-880784308727448071.post-71319438739530677912012-05-03T07:31:00.000-07:002012-05-03T07:31:29.444-07:00May 2nd: A God Beyond TimePsalm 2<br />
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1 Why do the nations conspire[a]<br />
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and the peoples plot in vain?<br />
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2 The kings of the earth rise up<br />
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and the rulers band together<br />
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against the Lord and against his anointed, saying,<br />
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3 “Let us break their chains <br />
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and throw off their shackles.” <br />
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4 The One enthroned in heaven laughs; <br />
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the Lord scoffs at them.<br />
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5 He rebukes them in his anger <br />
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and terrifies them in his wrath, saying,<br />
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6 “I have installed my king <br />
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on Zion, my holy mountain. ”<br />
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7 I will proclaim the Lord’s decree:<br />
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He said to me, “You are my son; <br />
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today I have become your father. <br />
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8 Ask me,<br />
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and I will make the nations your inheritance, <br />
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the ends of the earth your possession.<br />
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9 You will break them with a rod of iron[b]; <br />
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you will dash them to pieces like pottery. ”<br />
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10 Therefore, you kings, be wise; <br />
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be warned, you rulers of the earth.<br />
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11 Serve the Lord with fear <br />
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and celebrate his rule with trembling. <br />
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12 Kiss his son, or he will be angry<br />
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and your way will lead to your destruction,<br />
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for his wrath can flare up in a moment.<br />
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Blessed are all who take refuge in him.<br />
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I never turn on the news. For good reason, I can't handle all the bad news. I feel like I take it with me, after the TV is off, and it just sits in my heart and starts festering all this worry. The other day it was the one year memorial to when Navy Seals killed Osama Bin Laden, and of course that was the one day that I happened to turn on the news and hear how now there are threats of new terrorist attacks and bombs in intestines. I spent the rest of the day trying not to think about it, and praying that whoever was flying today was safe. And naturally, I dreamt about it when I went to sleep that night and woke up in a fright. I love this Psalm because it shows me that God hears the ragings, the threats, the conflicts of the nations, and it doesn't cause Him alarm. He's not pulling His hair, trying to decide who to protect and who to forget. This Psalm says He laughs at them, and the final verse is that blessed are all who take refuge in Him. <br />
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I wonder if sometimes God isn't laughing at me either. Especially when lesser worries start strangling my mind and threatening to errupt all over. Fear of aging, recently, has really been getting me. I wonder if God chuckles at me, kind of like I have to laugh at Eden when she gets herself wrapped up in my earphone wires, and she's standing there screaming and so distressed. She doesn't realize that a couple of spins means she's free, and so she can't see the humor. Maybe God has a similar reaction when I fear things like age, which can only mean that I'm getting closer to going Home. <br />
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I have a terrible memory. Most of my life is fuzzy, with a few pictures here and there of pleasant times and places and people, but for the most part, I feel like I've lost half of my life and its wandering around somewhere in my brain waiting to be recovered. I have to call some of my friends to remember what I did in junior high, high school, and I am starting to realize college is slowly fading too. (With that said, I have been researching how to jumpstart your memory on the internet lately and may or may not be looking at a few books at the library later on the subject.) The point is, the few memories that do stand out are usually pretty monumental--- the day i single-handedly killed my sister's favorite pet birds, for example, is one I am not sure I will ever get rid of. But lately watching Eden has been jogging my memory, and bringing back pieces of my past that I'd thought were long gone. <br />
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Since about 13 months, Eden has started to mimick almost everything I do. I know I posted a picture of it on facebook the other day, but she's unalterably obsessed with lipstick. I didn't know she'd ever seen me put it on until I caught her one day with the tube, puckering up and smearing it all over herself. Chad and I recently had a big scare where we thought she'd eaten some terrible product, only to realize she had mistaken my concealer tube for the lipstick, and her mouth, chin, cheeks, were painted white. Moms who don't wear much makeup, and are naturally beautiful, probably don't deal with this. I have to go searching for my brush every stinking day because one of her new favorite tricks is hairstyling, and nearly every time I get ready I find her sitting near my drawers, wearing every single one of my clean underwear as a stack of necklaces. She walks around wearing every bag she can find on her shoulder as a purse, and naturally, she loves to pull out my leapord flats and attempt to strut her stuff in front of our tv. Which normally is featuring Sesame Street. <br />
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At first I thought it was so amazing that she picked up on so many of my habits, and that she instinctively was copying me instead of Chad. Then I progressed from feeling like it was funny to feeling slightly intimidated by it, realizing that if she watches me so closely, I'm going to have be more careful to live in a way that is worth her mirroring. And finally, I've reached a point of wishing I could sit down with her and tell her to not spend her childhood wishing she could be older. Now, I get that its totally normal and healthy and so good for her to show all of these signs of recognizing me and life and the fact that she wants to be a big girl already, and wants to do what Mommy does. But somewhere in my heart is this realization that I spent most of my life trying to get to the next phase. <br />
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Maybe it's because I had an older sister who was doing the "next" thing all the time that I wanted to be where she was. I always knew what the road ahead looked like, roughly, at least. I can remember being so sad when it was week days because it meant Lindsay was in school, and I'd be sitting on our steps waiting for her to get home from elementary so I wouldn't be lonely anymore. And watching her play sports in junior high and wishing I were old enough to be on a sports team, and watching her go to prom and be part of FCA in high school and wishing I could be part of that when I was in junior high, and then when I was finally in high school visiting her at Baylor and realizing high school had nothing on college. And then when I was in college she was married and I realized how great it seemed to have the huge question of life resolved, "who will I love?" Somehow, in a strange twist, I ended up have a baby first. But that's about the only thing I've ever done before she's done it. <br />
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The point is, I wish I could go back and tell myself to just calm down. Just enjoy being too little to go to school. Enjoy the chalk and the barbies and the glasses of whole milk--cuz the good Lord knows I don't get to drink that anymore. And enjoy junior high and the lack of freedom and the protective wing of my parents. Enjoy high school and the non-seriousness of life, the pulse of going from school event to school event and just learning as much as I can. To enjoy college, its apparent freedoms, its failures, its pretend grown-up life that really is nothing like a real grown-up life. Life's not worth rushing. <br />
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Side note: One of my biggest pet peeves is when people talk about a certain season of life (I'm guilty of this, I'm sure) like it was <em></em>the<em></em> pinnacle of their entire career as a human. Like people who graduate college but keep talking about their glory days, wishing they could be back inside of the dorm, or the frat house, or at the tailgate or the function or whatever it is. People who spend all of their time telling everyone else to enjoy college because they wish they could go back to it. Before Chad and I graduated, I told him I never wanted us to pine for college. It was great. It was a season of life that I so loved and appreciated and met so many AMAZING people in. But it's over now. And I still love those people and that place and the season. But we're all on to new things. <br />
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Lately that anticipation of the future has suddenly shifted to a desire to put on the brakes. To avoid birthdays. To stop the clock. I don't want to turn 25. I don't want to think about getting closer to 30. I have had this profound sympathy for Jack Sparrow looking for the fountain of youth. I understand. If he finds it, I want to know. And I don't like this new fear any better than I liked the old rushing around eagerness. I think both grieve God's heart. <br />
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I keep thinking of that verse in 2 Corinthians 3:18: " but we all with unveiled faces beholding as in a mirror the glory of the Lord are being transformed into that same image, from glory to glory." Aren't I supposed to be going from glory to glory? And Proverbs 31, talking about the virtuous woman, and how she laughs at the days to come; her description is missing any cues about botox, age-defying creams, etc. <br />
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I love that the Lord IS. He was, of this we have TONS of evidence. He will be, of this we have equally as convincing evidence. But the fact that He IS, is what affects me most today. When I was 12 wishing I could be 17 so I could sing that song with Tim McGraw, He was sitting next to me wishing I would look at Him and learn about who He made me to be in that very season. When I was 17 wondering how my heart would heal after losing someone I'd cared about and wondering if I'd ever find a man equal to the image in my mind, He was walking with me trying to teach me about the beauty of a heart 'stayed on Jehovah'. When I turned 21 and wanted so badly to rush the next 11 months so I could finally be Mrs. Chad Freije, He was urging me to draw even closer in the last few days and weeks I had as single woman. It makes me so sad to think of all the time I spent longing for the future, and it also sheds new light on the fact that it's so terrible to sit here and dread the process of getting older. It's inevitable. It's going to happen. And I'd rather do it gracefully and with peace than irritably and with anxiety. And the secret to the future is that God will be there too. He will still be faithful. And the point is, He is right here. I don't need to look out there because He is right with me in this present moment. <br />
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I have a yoga video where the instructor says at one point, "Your power is in this present moment." Now, alot of the stuff she says is kind of bizarre. But this one phrase caught my attention. I stopped down-ward facing dogging and sat up and looked at Mandy Ingber and said, "Good word." My grace, my hope, my joy, isn't somewhere lodged in the memories of Bluebird Lane or Sky Ranch or Baylor or Tyler, Texas...and it isn't in the years when I'm past the child-raising age and I get to rediscover my passions that exist besides being a parent...its right now. God's right here, right now, and this moment is the one of to sieze and live and squeeze all of the proverbial juice out of. <br />
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<br />Charishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00350951414218746391noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-880784308727448071.post-28387645256104845402012-05-01T10:06:00.002-07:002012-05-01T10:14:08.178-07:00May Day Devotional: The Word and The TreeI thought for the month of May, tentatively, I'd maybe do a little bit of a daily devotional. More for my own practice of expression, and also to invite whoever wants to join me, to do so. Every day in May, I'll be reading the Psalm that correlates with the date. I'd love if you did it with me, and if you left some yummy thoughts at the bottom for me to meditate on, and that way we can have a little interchange that will hopefully be encouraging and somewhat consistent. So, feel free to follow every day. Or just one day. Or decide this sounds terrible. Whatever floats your boat. <br />
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Psalm 1: Way of the Righteous and the Wicked <br />
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1 Blessed is the man who walks not in the counsel of the wicked, nor stands in the way of sinners, nor sits in the seat of scoffers; </div>
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2 but his delight is in the law of the Lord, and on his law he meditates day and night. </div>
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3 He is like a tree planted by streams of water that yields its fruit in its season, and its leaf does not wither. In all that he does, he prospers. </div>
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4 The wicked are not so, but are like chaff that the wind drives away. 5 Therefore the wicked will not stand in the judgment, nor sinners in the congregation of the righteous; 6 for the Lord knows the way of the righteous, but the way of the wicked will perish. </div>
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Sometimes when I go to read the Bible I get overwhelmed by the sheer enormity of it. It seems like the New Testament oftentimes is just filled with these terribly long sentences with all of these divine mysteries and my brain is just too small to think about it. I can't handle even one verse in Ephesians. I feel this way about the Psalms too, and I guess that's the part that I love about it. David was a man who poured out his heart like water before the Lord. So there's a lot to be poured out. I tend to do this, and I can appreciate his lack of brevity sometimes. <br />
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Psalm 1 has a special place in my heart. I can remember my mom trying to get me to memorize it from when I was really little and I was discouraged then, even at the age of 7, that I might not be able to meditate on God's law day and night. It seems like such a daunting task. But reading it this morning got me thinking that maybe its just that David means he would wake up thinking about God's word. That encourages me because I do that sometimes. Like last night, when I could have sworn I heard voices right outside of our window, and I woke up in one of those paralyzed frights, and so I tried to pray my way out of the fear and back to sleep. I called up every verse I knew about the Lord being a shield about me, and me not having to fear the terror at night. After about five minutes of that, I am pretty sure I konked back out. So, robbers, have your way if you're out there. At least I've been edified in my brain with the Word of God. <br />
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Sometimes I forget too, that the Word of God, the law that this Psalm calls me to meditate on, comes in the flesh in John 1. That the Word of God is no longer just the physical, written words, but the Person. The One who gave Himself up for me and lives to make intercession for me, and the One who is my advocate in Heaven. The past week, I've had skimpy quiet times. I've not felt 100%, so I've laid in bed instead of getting up to read. Which usually means I'm half-sleeping through some of it. And that leaves me feeling shamed the rest of the day. It's so funny how if I don't do what I consider my part in trying to sit down and listen for the Lord, I assume He's angry and hurt, and He won't talk with me the rest of the day. So I spend the next 12 hours limping around, trying to seem good and act good and speak good, but all the while my heart is testifying against me that I feel guilty. I forget that the work was finished on the cross, and that the work of abiding is multi-faceted, all day long experience, and not just left to a morning quiet time. <br />
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I forget that the Word of God isn't just on my Bible app or in the leaves of my New Testament. The Word of God is also the Spirit within me, the one who testifies that I am a child of God, and a coheir with Christ. And that even if I've not spent the alotted time I wanted to at seven, I can still meet with Him while I'm fixing Eden's chocolate milk or on a run, or in the shower, or while I get ready. He still wants to talk. He's not the muteness-of-God-unless-you-have-your-Bible. He 's the Living Word of God. And He is that sharp, double-edged sword that can pierce and divide bone and marrow with just one word in my heart. He knows me. <br />
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I love how this Psalm talks about how the man who meditates on the Word of God will be like a tree planted by streams of water, and that this tree is amazingly fruitful, verdant, un-withering, and that in all things, prosperous. I don't always feel prosperous, I don't always feel like what I'm doing will produce results. When I'm trying to rub out the stains on Eden's white shirt for the 90th time this month, I feel a little bit less than productive. But if I'm doing it and talking with the Word of God, then in everything I do, I prosper. I gain. I grow. <br />
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If I go back over my life, I see that the Word of God as in the Bible and the Word of God as in the impressions and encouragements on my heart have both spoken to me in equal proportions. I've had radical encounters, at just the moment I've needed it, with both the Bible, and with just the words I hear Him speak to my heart. Of course, that spontaneous word to my heart is always tested and tried with the Bible, and if it's not consistent with it then I can count on my hearing wrong. But that spontaneous Word of God that comes from the Person of the Holy Spirit contains the same amount of healing, promise and hope that the physical Word of God does. <br />
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Someone at church on Sunday compared the written word of God to water for our souls, and the spoken "power" word to our spirits as the light of God. If we only have the written word without listening for the Person speaking to our hearts, we get water-logged. If we only have our ears pinned to heaven and don't open the Bible, we get dried up from trying to look just at the light. But if we marry the two, and value the two, the written Word and the heart-Word, then we find two elements that are intrinsic to the growth of ourself as that tree planted by the streams of water.Charishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00350951414218746391noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-880784308727448071.post-58696939595780372332012-03-28T06:35:00.005-07:002012-03-28T07:20:41.921-07:00Sabbath Mind"We are destroying speculations and every lofty thing raised up against the knowledge of God, and we are taking every thought captive to the obedience of Christ." 2 Corinthians 10:5-6<br /><br />I heard a someone talking about thoughts a few weeks ago, and how each human has somewhere between 12000 and 50000 thoughts a day, and that something like 90 percent of those thoughts are the exact same today as they were yesterday. This sort of discouraged me, because I like to think that each day I'm growing a little bit further away from where I was yesterday. That I'm making forward progress, and I'm not stuck in the same patterns I was in before. I have concluded that those stat's have an asterisk by them and fine print that reads: Exception: mind that is being renewed by the Holy Spirit gets new, Heavenly thoughts each day, making tomorrow's thoughts a little better than today's.<br /><br />I gave up Facebook for Lent, and I had strong hopes that during this six weeks of abstinence, I'd look at my Bible every time I was tempted to check facebook. I was so excited to rid my brain of the mental clutter of other peoples' status reports about their dog, or their favorite starbucks, and I felt sure I'd have more air to breathe in my own head. (You know you need to give up facebook and twitter when you walk around all day thinking in a series of status updates-- and more than half of those updates have to do with food intake: Just poured new Trader Joe's Costa Rican in my favorite mug. @gooddays start with a single sip...cue the next ten minutes of thinking of the wittiest way to word that when I am supposed to be enjoying drinking it.)<br /><br />Sadly, I have found over the course of the last five weeks that instead of checking my Bible when I want to check facebook, I've found new internet avenues to walk down and entertain myself with. Instagram...Gmail (even an ulta email is game for entertaining me)...People.com...in fact, I've realized, to my shame, that I've made worse decisions with my mental space lately than I would have if I had just stuck with the friendly updates of facebook. This is so typical. I give up pretzel mnms, thinking I'll eat carrots instead, and I suddenly discover chocolate chips. <br /><br />The point is, I've been realizing how impossible it is for me to find rest in my brain. I am an entertainment junky. I want to have someone else feeding me my thoughts alot of the time. I want to break up the monotony of days by watching, listening to, or reading someone else's thoughts. What is so bad with just a day of hearing just the voices of the people I am with right then, or of watching just the movements of the folks I'm around, or contenting myself to read only the emotions and thoughts play on the face of Eden all day? It's like I can't handle the lack of options, the lack of distractions. <br /><br />I've discovered a new favorite author: Grace Livingston Hill. As the good Lord would have it, she wrote almost a hundred books, so I'm set for a while. I have devoured her work, and the other day at the library I had a hard time deciding if I ought to carry Eden or the sack of thirteen of her first editions out to the car with me. Since she wrote before the first half of the 1900s, I feel like I'm mesmerized by how simply her characters live. <br /><br />So I have been systematically going through my friend list, trying to get every one of my friends to start reading her books. When I was attempting to win another Grace Livingston Hill fan, my friend (who is also a mom) asked me, almost incredulously, "How do you find time to read?" In the words of a wise woman I know, I answered, "You make time for what you want to make time for." And sure, the window of time I get to read is usually after ten thirty, with Chad snoozing beside me and I'm reading by the glow of an led book light on my nook or on the tiny screen of my itouch...but it's my time to read. And it works. <br /><br />Along with facebook, I felt like the Lord started to convict me yesterday about my reading habits. It's not that I read all day, by any means, but its that I let the books <em>follow </em>me. I am the kind of person who doesn't just see a movie. I am in the movie. Half the movies Chad wants to see I can't agree to go with him, because I know it will be too emotionally taxing on my heart. I need to save up that energy for real life. I'm realizing I need to adopt that attitude about books as well. <br /><br />ie: The Hunger Games. After seeing the movie, naturally, I am re-reading the series. And I have started to realize that if I am going to invest precious leisure time reading something like this series, then I need to make sure I am not wasting any more of my day time thinking about them. I need to stop analyzing what I think about a certain character, about the plot, about the wording...when you start thinking you just saw a mockingjay fly across your window, you know you need to take a step back. ;-)<br /><br />When I was thinking about this yesterday, I felt like the Lord reminded me of this verse in 2 Corinthians 10 about taking your thoughts captive. I've heard that verse all my life, and I've always applied it to impatient thoughts, discontented thoughts, jealous thoughts, self-pitying thoughts, etc. I never once thought to apply it to thoughts about things like books, or facebook updates, or what the latest celebrity is wearing. But if I can only think a certain number of thoughts a day, and my thoughts are basically on repeat, I need to be careful about what I'm thinking. Start filling up my leisure thoughts with things that are immediate, and centered on Jesus. <br /><br />Jimmy Seibert's sermon (available free on Itunes from Antioch Community Church podcasts) on being grounded from two weeks ago has stuck with me. It's about the first of the two greatest commandments, Loving God with all your heart, soul, AND with all your mind. I can love God with my mind. With what I think about. With what I allow to entertain my mind. And so I'm asking God to help me take my thoughts captive so that my thoughts don't just fly past the Holy Spirit in rapid aimless fashion, without anything that grabs His attention or delights His heart. I want a mind that attracts Him, the mind that is set on the Spirit, the mind that is life and peace.Charishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00350951414218746391noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-880784308727448071.post-54111319302437909912012-03-19T11:29:00.002-07:002012-03-19T11:35:46.675-07:00WanderingsYou have taken account of my wanderings; Put my tears in Your bottle. Are they not in Your book? Psalm 56:8<br /><br />The following is based off of the insight of a college student. Last night, right before worship, this precious girl stood up and shared a picture the Lord had given her while she was spending time with Him earlier this week. It was one of those words that was so beautiful I was just wrecked inside. It was so huge. It was so big. I’ve been thinking about this whole morning, and I thought of a few people I so wanted to share it with, that I figured I might as well put it out here for everyone to take it. It’s the kind of word that is like a spread at Luby’s. It’s got enough to go around. It’s not meant for just the few. I am not sure why I just compared this really amazing word to something from Luby’s…but hopefully you get the picture. This is my narrative version of her words:<br /><br /><br />Failures. I wake up to them. I go to sleep with them. I dream about them. They haunt me when I’m alone, and they surface when I’m in a crowded room. Am I growing at all? Am I learning? Has any part of me changed since He came into my life? Or am I just the sum of my missing pieces, the scarred flesh of a wounded and wounding soul who is wearily searching the earth for some sort of repose? Have I travelled in circles for forty years of wandering, never getting any closer to my destination, never putting any miles between where I am and where I began? How can He be pleased with me, when there are days the only steps I take are in retreat, the only movements I make are backwards towards what I was, instead of towards what He wants me to be? Everytime someone talks about how much God loves me, I can’t help but feel a swell of shame in my chest. Why would He love me when I’ve nothing to give Him? How could He love me when I’ve failed Him this much? <br /><br />And then I feel His hand in mine, clutching me close to Himself and willing me to follow Him. We’re walking through the halls of His home, so beautiful and unstained in its perfection. The more I see of that perfect place in which He lives, the more I’m aware how pitiful my attempt at making a home in my heart for Him truly is; He lives here? With all of this? And I offer Him a jigsaw puzzle of ill-fitted pieces? He can sense my unrest, and His searching glance is laced with pity. He quickens His pace, and we pass room after room of beautiful splendor, breath-taking majesty. Soon we’re running, He with sure, steady strides, and my legs awkwardly trying to keep pace. Down, down, down the halls of His home until we reach it. It’s a library filled with countless books, their casings worn from use and their volumes precious from handling. He makes a sweeping motion with his arm, across the walls that are teeming with these, His favorite chapters, and He stares right into my eyes and says, “These books are filled with every thought you’ve ever had about me. Every sentence, every word, every desire, every prayer you have ever uttered about Me and to Me, I’ve written down; I love to look through them, I love to read them again, I love to hear your heart for Me.”<br /><br />And I’m standing in the middle of this space, this room where He feels so comfortable, lined with these innumerable books that are filled with my sloppy, second-hand thoughts and feeble attempts at knowing Him, and I’m left speechless. He kept all of them? That prayer from second grade? That sudden impulse I had in sixth grade to be baptized? That tear I cried in Juarez when I saw the abundance of joy in those who had nothing? That whisper of a prayer for help when I was in the middle of warring desires in my soul? That warm glow of thanksgiving I felt when I held my baby girl for the first time? You kept all of those? My eyes are hungrily taking in every book, every memory, every moment, the ones I’ve forgotten and the promises I’ve failed to keep, and realizing You haven’t failed to remember. <br /><br />And then I hear Your voice again, saying, “As for your wrongs, your failures, and your trespasses against Me…I keep no record of them.”Charishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00350951414218746391noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-880784308727448071.post-69342908478842189352012-01-17T07:19:00.000-08:002012-01-19T08:48:47.703-08:00Covering WoundsThis won't be much of a blog. I just wanted to get out some thoughts I was having and maybe offer them to you, hopefully to encourage you, even if its just one person. There is something so sweet about walking through a hard place with our faces down and loneliness creeping up on our hearts, only to realize the sound of someone else walking beside us, through a very similar season. It makes the burden half as heavy. <br /><br />"He who covers a transgression seeks love, but he who repeats a matter separates close friends." Proverbs 17:9<br /><br />I was thinking about this verse this morning, and marvelling at my own inability to do what it says. It's always a good sign that I need to invite the Holy Spirit to work on my heart when I read something like this and my first thought is, "Well, that can't possibly apply to <em></em>this<em></em> situation." <br /><br />As I was wrestling through this in my mind, I remembered something I'd heard once, I can't remember where, about the Lord. Our Lord never asks us to do something for others that He hasn't already done, in some form, for us. <br /><br />When someone says something, with or without intention, that hurts my feelings or hurts my heart,I react by trying to cover that wounded place in my heart. I immediately retract inside of myself to make sure I'm okay, to lick my proverbial wounds. But what if instead of reacting to cover that place in me that was hurt, I try to cover that person in my mind? What if I stopped analyzing the size and gravity of my wound, and just started speaking out a blessing on the person who inflicted it? What if I had faith for other people's lives, and believed in the very best of who they were? Because behind every offense, isn't the deepest pain the disappointment we feel that someone isn't what we thought they were? That someone we believed was our friend and confidant has suddenly become distant and maybe even mean-spirited? <br /><br />I think God's heart is for us to give grace to the people around us. To look at them and see what the Lord sees...someone with divine purpose, eternal standing before the Throne, and a place in God's heart. Someone of so much value and worth that our Father was willing to sacrifice everything to win them a place in Heaven. Someone worthy of our love, hope, and forgiveness.<br /><br />It's easier, probably, to do this with someone who didn't actually intend to offend us, or hurt our feelings. It's harder to do it we know someone meant to snub us, or exclude us, or ruffle our feathers. But that's when it becomes even more necessary. It goes along with the saying, "Hurt people hurt people". And that person might be one word of encouragement, one word of affirmation away from being lifted out of the pit they are stuck in. And how much more powerful would the encouragement be if it came from someone they'd just hurt? <br /><br />When Chad and I fight, it basically is me fighting and Chad sitting back and listening, or laughing...depending on how ridiculous I'm being. Truly. But there isn't anything better for my heart then when I come back after ranting about something and calling him names that I don't really mean, to find that he still loves me. And not only that he loves me, but he still sees the woman he fell in love with and married and he's got the guts to forgive me and we get to start again. Sometimes its in those moments just after a fight that I feel closest to him. It's amazing what it does for my heart just to know that one person, perhaps the person whose opinion matters most, believes in the woman I am becoming rather than the woman I am. <br /><br />Isn't that what Jesus does for us every single day? <br /><br />Revelation 12:10 describes the enemy as "the accuser of our brethren, who accused them before our God day and night". He's constantly bringing up my sins, even in the court of God, trying to get God to give up hope in my life. But 1 John 2:1 says: "If anyone does sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous." That word advocate is parakletos: summoned, called to one's side, especially called to one's aid, one who pleads another's cause before a judge, a pleader, counsel for defense, legal assistant, an advocate, one who pleads another's cause with one, an intercessor; of Christ in his exaltation at God's right hand, pleading with God the Father for the pardon of our sins,in the widest sense, a helper, succourer, aider, assistant. <br /><br />When I was little and I'd get in trouble, I would burst into tears and start apologising. I guess I hated relational tension, even at a really young age. I can vividly remember a few times like that, where I just couldn't handle my mom being disappointed me. And she was the best about letting me know it was okay, and she still loved me. I've not really grown out of that. If I do something that I know dishonors the Lord, I gotta go to Him. I have to make sure He doesn't hate me. And despite the millions of times I've failed Him, He's never once given me the cold shoulder or told me to come back later when the wound wasn't so fresh. He just lets me right back in, and we pick up where we left off. He doesn't start rearranging my future because <em>now </em>He really knows who I am, and He's not so confident I will ever get to where He's planned for me to. He's not begrudging. He's got the most endless patience of anyone I know. And He wants us to forgive like He does. To handle offense like He does. <br /><br />So the next time someone offends me, steals my joy, hurts my feelings, I want to show them the same grace Jesus shows me. To believe in my heart the best about them, to see the person they are truly, and to offer them immediate forgiveness, whether they've asked for it or not. It's going to take so much emotional effort to do those things I won't possibly have time to analyze how bad I'm hurt. And that's just fine, because I'll probably just bring infection if I start to try and fix it myself; the Lord is the shepherd and overseer of my soul, and He is my Good Physician.<br /><br />*Disclaimer: Since posting this, I've had a few precious friends start asking if they offended me or if I am offended...and I feel awful! I wrote this during a quiet time, when I was reading that verse and with no particular time in mind. I just was thinking about how the Lord wants me to handle offense, and how I've failed in the past at it. As a general rule, I never want to blog out of venting or pointed at anyone person or time or event!! Please forgive me if I caused any confusion! It was unintended, and I'm so sorry!Charishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00350951414218746391noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-880784308727448071.post-47024248646203547762012-01-13T07:49:00.000-08:002012-01-13T08:27:55.515-08:00Why I Love Friday the 13thYou know what I love about the Lord? He likes to turn bad things good. He loves doing a gigantic flip. He loves redemption. It was His idea to create us, to give us the option of obedience or wandering, to become like us so He could redeem us- buy us back, give His life for us, change the first Adam's curse into the second Adam's blessing of eternal life and redemption. This is the kind of stuff that burns my heart, and gives me a caffeine high-- no caffeine necessary. Personally, I think He has a flare for the dramatic. He has the best ideas. I mean, think of all the creative wonderful people in the world, and then think that everybody is made in the image of the Creator. That means He is the most adventurous, most hilarious, most kind, most inventive, most talented person/God/Spirit/thing. Job 26:14 says, "And these are but the outerfringe of His works; how faint the whisper we hear of Him." And Job was a man who its safe to say knew God....but he says all he knew was just the faint whisper of who God was-- and from what I know of God, all I see is goodness, kindness, gentleness, joy. I already think He is immeasurably these things, but I can't imagine what the true God looks like if the outerfringe and faint whisper is already this poignant. Selah, right?<br /><br />So that's why I have to blog about loving Friday the thirteenth. Seriously, I always kind of get tickled when its a Friday the thirteenth. I heard this morning that this year, 2012, we will have three Friday the 13ths and that they are each 13 weeks apart. Someone was going on about how creepy it is, and how that's got to mean something. I'd like to tell you what that means: we oughta get excited. Want to know what happens when the enemy tries to stir up fear and superstition in things like this? God shows up. And He turns things on their head. Because Satan is already eternally damned. The gig's up. The end is written. God wins. <br /><br />I was listening to a sermon the other day about how sometimes we adopt our cultural truths as Biblical truths...and we don't even realize that what our world says is valid might be totally against what God says. I think superstition is one of those. No, I <em>know </em>superstition is one of those things. I grew up in a house where we weren't aloud to say "good luck". We weren't allowed to talk about luck. Luck, Mom said, was inconsistent with faith. So we would say, "God bless you" or something like that. I never found a penny, picked it up and all day long I had good luck. On the flip side, I've broken a mirror, walked underneath a few ladders, seen some black cats, and lived through some Friday the 13ths. And I don't live in fear. Because I've been brought into the safezone. Like when you play tag at recess and the one place that leaves you immune to whoever is chasing you, that's what the Lord is for us. He is an umbrella of peace, a covering, a Rock that is set on high, and He enables us to stand on the heights, to run to Him for refuge. No weapon formed against us prospers, and <br /><br />"He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will find rest in the shadow of the Almighty...He will cover you with His feathers, and under His wings you will find refuge, His faithfulness will be your shield and rampart...a thousand may fall at your side, and ten thousand at your right hand, but it shall not come near you.If you make the Most High your dwelling--even the LORD, who is my refuge then no harm will befall you, no disaster will come near your tent.For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways;they will lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone." Psalm 91<br /><br />I love Ephesians 6, and the armor of God. One reason I may love it is because my little brother used to have a BibleMan costume-- yes, that's right, Bibleman-- complete with all of the armor mentioned in the aforesaid chapter. When my sister Lindsay was home from college, she could get nasty if you woke her up and were yourself defenseless, so we'd send in Josh decked out in his Bibleman gear. Sometimes he came away unscathed. Sometimes. But the point is, in that awesome chapter, we learn what kind of weapons we have, what kind of armor we have, and this particular point is relevant for this post: <br />"In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one." <br />I like the guarantee of success here: if you have faith you CAN (the greek verb is dynamai, which means 1) to be able, have power whether by virtue of one's own ability and resources, or of a state of mind, or through favourable circumstances, or by permission of law or custom; 2) to be able to do something;3) to be capable, strong and powerful) extinguish the flaming arrows of the evil one. I don't know why but I've always thought flaming arrows are thoughts, especially thoughts of fear. If you let one hit you, it can pretty much consume everything. Fear can be so paralyzing. But faith trumps fear. Faith shields our hearts. And for this year, I have faith that this despite the number of 13s involved, it's God's year. And in Him we live and move and find our being, and we're safe.Charishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00350951414218746391noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-880784308727448071.post-77000137740442537502012-01-03T13:28:00.000-08:002012-01-03T13:32:58.301-08:00New Year's ResolutionsI like to think that I’ve developed a strong stomach since Eden was born. I’ve been dealing with all sorts of nasty situations for the past 17 months, including and not limited to: her vomit in my mouth, her dried poop lodged on my hands, ankles, etc., her half-chewed food spread all through my hair, and naturally, her saliva and snot constantly fighting for a home somewhere on my person. I draw the line, however, at backwash. Call me a bad mom, but I just can’t bear it. I remember the first couple of weeks that Eden was learning to drink from a straw, and how Chad and I, in our enthusiasm, would share with her whatever we were drinking. It only took a few times for me to realize that just as surely as she was drinking from my cup, she was also leaving a portion of whatever was in her mouth floating in the bottom of my drink. So now I have a rule: no drink-sharing when Eden is eating. It makes my life, and my beverages, that much more enjoyable. <br />I got back from a wonderful thirteen days of Texas yesterday, and I spent New Year’s Eve and Day trying to soak up my last minutes with my precious family. So, today, January 3rd, 2012, is technically my New Year’s. I’ve been making my list of resolutions, and it’s long enough to keep me busy for the next few months. Of course, there are the kind of resolutions that I am gleefully writing down— the ones I can’t wait to get started on. Then there are the resolutions that I keep avoiding. Like this one: No more trashy TV (aka The Bachelor). I have been ignoring that one all day but I finally realized it’s a nonnegotiable. <br />Nothing is more annoying then when people try and plant their convictions in your heart without your consent or desire…so take this with a grain of salt. This has just been the thought on my mind today. I keep thinking of excuses for why I can “handle” certain trash…whether its TV, movies, music, or books. Call me fragile, but I’ve been realizing lately that I really can’t handle certain songs, certain scenes, etc. I get disturbed easily. I get distracted easily. And I get discouraged easily. It doesn’t take much to throw me off. So I’ve been trying to learn how to stay the course, so to speak, with the Lord. How to avoid pitfalls, and how to guard my heart and my mind so that I don’t get bogged down. <br />One of my constant excuses about things like this with the Lord is that TV shows, movies, songs don’t really affect me that much. I get over it. Sometimes I don’t even think about it. Sometimes. But I felt like the Lord reminded me today of Eden drinking out of my drinks. I would have this delicious, tall glass of sweet tea sitting in front of me and I could be so excited to drink it, but after Eden had a sip, it was filled with nasty floating food particles, and basically it ruined my joy. Because I believe in Jesus, I have the mind of Christ. It’s a brand spanking new mind—like that cup of sweet tea, perfectly brewed, with just the right amount of sugar-water and ice cubes—but if I choose to start watching stuff or listening to stuff or reading stuff that isn’t approved by God, I can really quickly start filling it with junk. And I felt like the Lord answered my predicament about reality TV and the like…whether it affects me or not, there will be floaties in my drink.Charishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00350951414218746391noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-880784308727448071.post-80282124190929652602011-11-14T09:20:00.000-08:002011-11-14T10:05:30.987-08:00I'm Not RightChad and I had lunch together in Tyler one day before Eden was born, and we had gotten in the habit of assessing our life as a married couple a lot. I think it was because we only knew that this new person was entering in our family and we wanted to be sure we knew who we were and what we were about before we started training a mini-Freije. I could laugh now that at the time we were so afraid of what this new person was going to do to "us". We're more "us" now than ever before she was born.<br /><br />But anyway, we were talking and I won't ever forget Chad's words. He looked up at me and had tears glistening in his eyes, (something not uncommon for Chad since he started considering his role as a dad...something that I still fight him over...there is only room for one emotional person in our family, and that role was filled a long time ago) and he said, "I just want to make sure that we always remember that we aren't right." <br />I nearly choked on my meal. What do you mean we want to remember we aren't right? If we aren't right, why are we living this way? If we aren't right, what's the point to making sure we stick to our convictions? But he calmly explained that he knows that at some level, our theology, our thoughts on a God who is much bigger and better than us, and on the millions of different people that God has lovingly formed and created totally unique from one another, are not always right. We don't have all the answers. We never will. We have some blind spots, because we're human, and because we're not in Heaven. <br />So where do we go from there? What do you do with the realization that you aren't right? Because I've lived my whole life pretty much thinking I was living the right away, and judging other people if I think they are living the wrong way. And that's what Chad meant, we don't have room to judge. Yes, the Bible is pretty clear about sin and immorality and greed and lying and things like that...but there are alot of gray areas. Like how to spend time with God. Is it morning or evening? Is it an hour a day or should I really be spending seven hours? Is it with worship or without? Or how to spend our money. Are we supposed to just tithe ten percent or do we always tithe thirty percent and never buy Starbucks because they may or may not be fair trade? Or, should every mom be a stay at home? Or should every mom realize that she needs to bear some of the financial load? Or are some mom's called to different things and some can work as nurses or nutritionists or photographers and am I missing that calling by staying at home? You get my gist. Almost every area of life is, in a sense, up for debate. <br />And over that lunch with Chad we both decided that ultimately, the reason we want to know we're right is because we want justification. We want approval. We want to know that we're doing okay, that we're on track. And so we look around and compare ourselves and try and judge ourselves by other people, totally unrelated to us, and we try and give each other thumbs up and thumbs down. But maybe the point of life is getting our cue from God. Letting Him direct us, and not looking to the right and left, trying to figure out whose more right than us or who is more wrong. <br /><br />I don't know if we're the only couple who is tempted to think we're right all the time, but I know that it was at that lunch that the Lord threw down the gauntlet in my heart and said, No more. No more pride like that. And its not like I've never thought I was right since then or that I've never judged another person, but it's become really evident that I need more humility in my life. And its been really mind-blowing to tell myself, "Charis, you are not always right. In fact, you could be very wrong right now, so you better hush your mouth about your "neighbor" and go ask the Lord to search your heart." It's not been the easiest thing, and it's probably a life-long process of failing at it and reminding myself (or having the Lord remind me) and trying to walk in Love again. I'm not right, but Jesus is. It's a bitter pill for my pride to swallow. But its a good one. It's a true one. <br /><br />It's like the tool we use to measure one another is broken, because we are all so different. So we have to throw it out and realize we aren't God. Not that this gives license for sin or for things that break God's heart, but it gives license for us to express His will in such different ways. <br />I'm starting to think that getting to know Jesus, and getting to know Truth, isn't something that happens in one day. It's not something that even happens in a few years. Really, no one is finished in their learning process, not even until the day we die. We're always learning. <br /><br />"For our knowledge is fragmentary (incomplete and imperfect, and our prophecy (our teaching) is fragmentary (incomplete and imperfect. But when the complete and perfect (total) comes, the incomplete and imperfect will vanish away (become antiquated, void, and superseded)." 1 Corinthians 13:9-10<br /><br />"The path of the righteous is like the first gleam of dawn, shining ever brighter until the full light of day." Psalm 4:18<br /><br />Maybe in Heaven we'll have full knowledge right away, in that blinking of an eye, and we'll understand why everyone has their own journey, and why Jesus didn't expound on some things in the Bible. I've often wished we'd have more details about Jesus' way of life: what did He eat? Did He ever eat sweets? Or was He always mindful about health and wholeness? Did he sleep in ever, or was He always the first one awake? Is it wrong to press the snooze button? I mean, these may seem silly, but you see where I'm going. <br />Maybe He purposefully didn't give all the details so that we'd learn to listen, and learn to walk when and where He tells us and not try and tell everybody else what to do. And maybe that's what the journey of faith is, of learning to listen for His still small voice behind you saying, "this is the way, walk in it." And the way for you might not be the exact same way for me. It will look the same in some places, because we have the same artist painting out picture and every artist has his trademark strokes and touch. But at the end of it all the portrait of our lives won't look a thing like the person's next to us. And maybe that's just how He intended it.Charishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00350951414218746391noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-880784308727448071.post-45476054658298664202011-11-11T07:18:00.000-08:002011-11-11T08:01:02.495-08:00"I think thankfulness is like a flower. It needs care and cherishing if it to live and grow. Perhaps thankfulness, even more than some other qualities that seem to come naturally to us, is in need of cherishing, because of the withering winds of life. The best way to cause it to grow strong in our hearts is to be careful never to let ourselves be unthankful. Has anyone done anything to help me and I have said nothing about it? (It is not enough to thank God; we should thank the one to whom He gave the loving thought that caused the loving deed.) Has anyone prepared a surprise for me and I have been blind to it? or if I noticed it, have I been dumb? If we have been careless about this, let us put it right. I often think we must disappoint our kind Father by not noticing the little things (as well as the countless great things) that He does to give us pleasure. Perhaps we should begin by thinking more of what His children do for love of Him and for love of us too." - Amy Carmichael<br /><br />Last night I let Eden watch a few minutes of Nick Jr. and the Blue's Clues guy came on and was talking about thankfulness and what all the characters on his show are thankful for, and I thought-- this is such a wonderful reminder. Everybody, whether they know God or not, can recognize that an attitude of thankfulness is a good thing. Not only does it serve as a hot air balloon for my heart, it also is a weapon against destructive thoughts and self pity. I found myself this morning thinking about problems I see in other people and I had to stop myself and say, "Charis, how about we be grateful for the wonderful people in our life?" and so I started to list out reasons I am thankful for the people I know and those nasty little thoughts retreated. I think it goes along with the verse that if we draw near to God, the devil will flee from us. Psalms tells us to enter His gates with thanksgiving in our hearts, and our courts with praise. When I was little I'd associate that verse with actually being in Heaven, but I think it's a right-now-reality. If our bodies are temple of the Holy Spirit, then His presence is with us, and He is attracted to thankfulness. So boom...when you get thankful, things like depression, moodiness, anxiety, complaining, bitterness, basically anything that is against God, flees from you. It's like turning on a light in a dark room. I've never seen a shred of darkness put up a fight. It's go to go. <br /><br />As for the quote at the top, I stumbled across this little treasure of a reminder this morning, and it seemed so fitting for today. Amy Carmichael was a missionary to India, and for the last twenty years of her life she was bedridden with a chronic illness. She spent those years writing letters to all of the people she knew and cared for, encouraging them to love Jesus, to love others, and to keep the faith. This is one of her letters. It never really impressed me so much that she'd write all these letters (which have been compiled into multiple books)until yesterday- when I had my first encounter with food poisoning. <br /><br />Chad and I spent almost an entire day literally plastered to our couches, and the worst part was, we couldn't watch the food network shows we love, because we'd feel even worse. There were so many times yesterday where I thought about how terrible sickness is, and how its really hard to focus on the Lord when I feel like my stomach is attacking me. <br /><br />While we were laying on our couches, bundled in blankets and trying to nibble on saltines and taking tentative sips of ginger ale, Chad kept saying how we needed to focus on what God's done for us (probably because I was complaining too much). And when we started reciting all the ways He has been faithful to us, it wasn't long before we started to forget about how sick we felt. And during my worse moments, Eden would be zooming past me with her popper vacuum trailing behind her, and I'd burst out laughing. And it helped so much to laugh too. Its amazing how God made laughter, made thankfulness and praise as buoys for our souls. They keep us afloat. <br /><br />It's amazing too what being sick did for my perspective. I woke up this morning and all I wanted to do was clean the house. I have been beside myself with happiness. I've managed to do three loads of laundry, clean two bathrooms, scrub down our sinks, refrigerator, oven, and microwave, and organize our ungodly number of magazines...and its only 10:30. I feel like walking outside and shouting, "I'm alive! I will be okay!" There were moments yesterday I thought I'd never eat again. And really, I have to admit that I'm really thankful for food poisoning. Because it taught me how great my day to day life is. <br />"through Him, then, let us continually offer up a sacrifice of praise to God, that is, the fruit of lips that give thanks to His name." Hebrews 13:5Charishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00350951414218746391noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-880784308727448071.post-41344614751510852011-09-19T03:15:00.000-07:002011-09-19T03:17:03.011-07:00Snot & SinIn the brief but wonderful 13 months that I’ve been a mom, I have seen that parenting lends itself to perpetual parallels between the Spiritual and the natural. There are so many lessons I’ve learned about God’s nature hidden in how I feel about Eden. This is one of them.<br /><br />Note: This particular blog entry contains some graphic descriptions that may be disturbing to people without kids, and people with kids who have an aversion to snot. <br /><br />Last night I found myself following a trail of chocolate bunny snacks to where Eden sat, attempting to play with some of her favorite toys, with snot all over her face and hands. (I know of at least one person, Ashley Siner, who would be gagging just at the thought. I, however, grew up in a family that staunchly believed in the use of Kleenex -that was before Puffs Plus Lotion was available-, and a Mom who couldn’t handle when kids sniffed back their snot. In short, snot doesn’t really gross me out. Leave me alone in a room with a kid whose not my own and their dirty diaper, and that’s a different story.) <br /><br />All that to say I felt terrible for Eden because I could have cleaned up her mess so much better than she. Since this cold set in, she’s all about trying to wipe her own nose, and to be honest, she is just not very efficient. She makes it worse every single time, and she ends up getting everything around her contaminated. As I was cleaning her off yesterday, and she was screaming her little heart out, I started to laugh just thinking about how similar we are sometimes. (Or maybe it’s just how similar I am.)<br /><br />Don’t we frequently walk away from where our Spiritual Daddy sits, to go wander off and inevitably we make a mess of ourselves? And then, when we’ve made the mess, we try and clean it up, but we only make the whole thing even worse? So often I find that one “little” sin leads to so many more, and it just gets all over the people I love, and all over me. I let myself think discontented thoughts early in the day, and when I realize what I’ve done I end up so disappointed in myself that I can’t find the guts to spend time with God, and those thoughts slowly turns into me being easily irritated with the people I love, or selfish with my time, or I grumble and complain, and by the time I crawl into bed I’ve made my husband, my friends, and whoever happened to call me on the phone feel like I’m a perpetual little rain cloud.<br />I was reading something the other day that talked about how eager God is to meet us, even in the midst of our sin. He longs to set us free, and He looks at us graciously, like a Father with compassion. I wonder if He feels anything like what I felt last night finding Eden all messed up with her own snot. I felt so bad for her; all I wanted to do was get her cleaned up so she could enjoy the toys that I’ve given her to enjoy. <br /><br />Since the beginning though, since Adam and Eve, its innately human to run away from God when we sin. Isn’t that the silliest thing? It’s as if He didn’t know we had it in us, as if His arm is too short to wipe our proverbial noses. But God’s desire, from the first moment we sin, is to get us clean. He wants to help us, He wants to set us free to go and enjoy life and not wallow in guilt. There is a verse in Proverbs I love that says, “The foolishness of a man twists his way, and his heart frets against the Lord.” Somehow, whenever I sin, I start to feel like God must not want anything to do with me anymore, and that I ought to somehow get myself straightened out before going to see Him. But He is nothing like us, and His logic isn’t our logic. He knows the secret, that only He has the perfect way to clean us, and that we do a pretty shabby job of it. <br /><br />And sometimes when I sin, I start to identify myself with that sin, and think that God must hate me because I have sinned. God’s heart towards us and His heart towards sin are two different things. When we know Jesus and have invited Him into our hearts, He declares us His sons and daughters, and His heart towards us is pretty much summed up in Psalm 23, with the final verse adding the best part: “Surely Your goodness and unfailing love will pursue me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.” He doesn’t lose sight of us in the middle of the sin- He doesn’t start identifying us with our sin. I don’t suddenly think of Eden as one big piece of snot just because she’s covered in it, I still see her worth and value in the middle of it. I just want her clean. I just want her to be able to live a better quality of life in the middle of her cold. <br /><br />If I’m just Charis, a 24-year-old girl who helps out her precious daughter just because I adore her, don’t You think an ageless God has a much better understanding of the human spirit, a much better method of cleaning “noses”? Jesus says if we think we’re good parents, we should see God. “Or which one of you, if his son asks him for bread, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a serpent? If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give good things to those who ask him!” Matthew 7:9-11<br /><br />“But if anyone does sin, we have an advocate who pleads our case before the Father. He is Jesus Christ, the one who is truly righteous. He himself is the sacrifice that atones for our sins- and not only our sins but the sins of all the world.” 1 John 2:1-2<br /> We know that Jesus literally stands in Heaven and makes intercession for us (He prays on our behalf) and we can “with confidence draw near to the throne of Grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.” (Hebrews 4:16) So instead of running away next time, hiding in our corners leaving a trail of uneaten mess, and sitting in a pile of our own self-wiped snot, let’s do the wiser thing. Let’s run to our Heavenly Father, asking Him to wipe our noses, get us clean, and set us straight.Charishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00350951414218746391noreply@blogger.com1