"Making Over The Dirty Rooms"

It is no secret that I despise laundry. I will scrub the floor with a toothbrush, clean windows and fans and swish that toilet brush and even detail it with a toothbrush just to stay away from the laundry room and the mountains of misery that await. It has always been "the room" where everything was hidden away behind closed doors when those who are not of the same blood line arrive. You know those rooms. The ones you never intend for anyone to see. Those private quarters that only we can see and that really are not considered a part of the "house." The laundry room is one of the dirty rooms. It just really doesn't matter, right? That is what I always thought until... recently. My laundry room was my least favorite room in the house until last week. Our washing machine was old and would not hold very many clothes. With 4 boys that is a problem. It also required that you run the spin cycle twice to keep from retrieving sopping wet clothes. Our dryer had its own set of issues. Drying time averaged 70 minutes per load, but had been known to take up to 3 hours to dry towels. Last week when the washer rocked its way into the kitchen to dance with me I knew it was time the dynamic duo left our home. We priced and shopped and prayed and priced and shopped and prayed some more until Matt and I came to find peace and unity about the same washer and dryer. We had to totally clean the room out in order to be done with the old and welcome in the new. While the room was empty I decided the floors needed a really good scrubbing. After that a coat of paint on the walls seemed only appropriate so we picked a color and cut-in, trimmed and rolled. A vision began to take root. I could see it. This dirty room was becoming clean. But it wasn't enough for it just to be clean, oh no, it had to be adorned, decorated and made beautiful. Matt asked me how replacing a washer and dryer turned into a home makeover project. My answer...it just made sense. For a whole week I have spent day and night working, planning, painting, creating and cleaning. The result...I now have my dream laundry room and I LOVE doing laundry.

I love going in there and the door stays wide open all of the time. I just can't find enough laundry to do. The room and the chore that once plagued me is now my joy and delight. Why? Because the dirt and clutter have been replaced with beauty, organization and precious memories and pictures including, artwork made from my boy's baby clothes, my great-grandmother's button collection, windows from my granddad's house and lots of pictures of my boys.

The old is gone and the new has come and the new is so much more attractive and magnetic than the old. As I was devoted to this project all week the Lord began to impress upon my heart that we have those dirty rooms in our lives as well. You know the rooms I am referring to...the ones we keep the doors closed to and give no one access to the entrance. Those deep, dark places of doubt, worry, sin and bitterness. Those thoughts that only we are privy to. Those heart attitudes, opinions, complaints and activities that only we know exist. We all have a dirty room or dirty rooms. Maybe not filthy, but non-the-less those rooms that are off limits to the world. What would they think if they could see behind those doors? What would they find? How could we show our faces if we aired all of the dirty laundry behind that door? We are in need of a TOTAL makeover. When we came to know the Lord Jesus as our Savior, He took away the old and offered us forgiveness and everything we need for life and godliness. We possess everything we need to have clean and sparkly rooms. There is no need to keep the doors closed any longer, but just like my laundry was never on the priority list for a makeover so too are those areas in our lives that we just won't let go of. I know what my areas are. What are yours? What room of your heart and life is off limits? What areas of your life need a makeover? Maybe it is the room that harbors fear and worry or that nook that hides your negative and critical spirit. It might be the cranny where you hide your self-pity and anger. It is time for a makeover vision to be cast within our hearts. Picture it. Open doors, cleanliness, sparkling, functional, organized, nothing to hide and COMPLETELY functional for HIS purposes. His Word is our blueprint and at His feet we find revelation and design for life. My laundry room has experienced a makeover, but it will one day pass away. The makeover of our hearts and lives is eternal.

"An Experiment In Kindness"

My boys are good boys. They are well mannered. They are sweet and above all they love Jesus. They bless my heart each and every day. Recently on one of those afternoons when all the doors and windows are open and a crisp breeze is blowing through the house, I was cooking dinner and listening to the sweet sound of children playing outside. As the smell of dinner made its way through the neighborhood streets I heard a terrible argument break out. It was coming from the front and I began to wonder what mom would have to step outside and reprimand these children who were speaking to one another in words and volumes that were less than encouraging. As I walked out my front door, I recognized the voices and 3 young men were quickly called in from their game of "gotcha." I was appalled. They were using tones and discouraging words and speaking in ways that they wouldn't use if they were talking to a stray animal. According to height they lined up on the couch and awaited "the mommy talk." We talked about the fact that they are HIS vessels, that Christ lives in them. We talked about kindness and we shared scripture concerning the tongue and I admitted to them my helpless place of not knowing how to stop this behavior that goes beyond just "brotherly" squabbles. I don't mind the headlocks, the tackling at the feet, the wrestling matches or the punches in the arms. All that is just part of being a brother or so I am told, but the words spoken from their mouth can leave a much greater impact and they are a direct reflection of the heart. They are words spoken in anger with an apparent lack of self-control. As we talked and pondered over what the next step would be Daddy had a wonderful idea. Togetherness! Practice! What better way to practice kindness than to be put in situations regularly that required you to be kind, to learn to be patient and to work together resulting in an occasional compromise. So for the next three days my boys were "together." They played together, ate together, slept together. Everything they did, they did together. We had to remind them to move and live in a pack, but for three days they were together. The stipulation was, for every unkind word or outburst we would add a day to their togetherness. I am happy to report that the days of togetherness only totaled 5. They learned to compromise and they are learning to put others needs before their own. That is what this was all about in the first place. Why get angry and yell? Why say hateful things? Because you have been crossed. Because you haven't gotten your way or things haven't turned out the way you wanted them to. Both sides are being selfish thus resulting in a disagreement. Dying to self is a hard lesson to learn at any age, but a lesson that is required according to the scriptures. If these precious boys can learn to die to self at a much younger age and put the needs of others above their own now, then their future days should be that much sweeter. I am not so naive as to believe that our 5 day "experiment in kindness" as cured the tongues or the angry hearts forever, but it is a start and I am more than willing to initiate this experiment again if needed. Saturday night I heard this conversation and it gave me great hope... Jacob - "I don't like you Joshua." Joshua - "Jacob that is not very nice for you to say that you don't like me." Jacob - "Joshua, please don't tell on my." Joshua - "Jacob, you deserve to be punished, but I will offer you mercy this time and not tell on you. I forgive you." Jacob - "Oh thank you Joshua, you do love me." My children possess the characteristic of kindness. When they accepted Christ as their Savior they were given the Holy Spirit as a deposit guaranteeing what is to come. With that came the fruit. The fruit of the Spirit. They received this one fruit with 9 characteristics. Part of my stewardship and my discipleship as a mom is to encourage and watch those characteristics grow. It takes work. It takes practice. Just as trees bear more and better quality fruit as they are pruned and cared for so too do we show more of the characteristics of the fruit of the Spirit as we nurture them and show great attention to them. That nourishment and discipline comes as we are in the Word of God, as we pray and as we are given opportunities to put what we have learned into practice. My boys are good boys, but this week they are just a little bit kinder. Practice makes perfect.

"Precious Memories"

Today, for no particular reason I find myself missing my Grandad. Precious memories have flooded my heart today and I am warm. I find myself grinning and yet a momentary sadness overtakes me. I remember his tall, lanky build which in younger years walked in confidence, but always fast. He walked with the same haste and determination but with a touch of clumsiness in his older years, but he walked. I miss his smooth, olive skin which let you know of his heritage and his white flattop always trimmed just so. The smell of dirt, worms and crickets always flood me with sweet memories of the "bait man." Seeing gardens all neat in rows and initials carved in trees take me back to summer visits. Rusty chairs and box fans plugged into extension cords, hanging over trees, running through the yard and up the walk reminds me of hot summer days that beckoned you indoors, but the company kept encouraged you to stay under the shade tree. Chicken and dumplings complete with bones, pringles cans containing anything but pringles and cherry vanilla ice cream were always a treat at Grandad's table. The mountains of papers on the big gold sofa and the one he wanted to show being on the bottom of the stack, but he saved it to share when the roads would lead us home. Two televisions side by side with two different programs playing simultaneously just so we didn't miss a thing. Seven long nails in a row on the bathroom wall so each pair of pants for each day of the week could be hung neatly and systematically. The workshop was chaotic and in disarray to the untrained eye, but to Grandad it made sense and it was a place to fix (rig) that which was broken and he could. The boat, the fishing poles, the buckets, old windows, old boat motors, cricket cages and every tool you could imagine in multiples. The Grandad giggle, the Grandad gate, the nicknames, the jokes, the tricks, the words he said in that Grandad way and the funny questions are all on my mind today. Gertrude was my nickname followed by a giggle and a grin. He could always make us laugh. He was patient. He was kind and I have no memory of a harsh word ever being spoken. He never forgot a birthday. Even though I received "for a special nephew" and "to a dear grandmother" it was the thought that counted and he NEVER forgot. He walked with a tenderness, a gentleness and yet his very presence demanded respect in the most quiet and gentle way. You never left his house empty handed. A pringles can full of cookies, vegetables from the garden or freezer or a stack of dollars from his pocket. The love was always enough. Every picture you sent received a frame and was placed on the shelves above the couch. Oh how I loved the tours. The tours of the house he grew up in and the stories that filled those walls and our hearts. My favorite times were spent rummaging through the room with all the stuff. I'm not sure the room every had a name, but it was filled with books and pictures, trophies and things. Old things. I loved to just sit and look and ask questions about each memory. The visits were always too short. We all knew it and my heart ached as we pulled away watching Grandad waving from his post, standing on the front porch until we were well out of sight. One of our last visits was my favorite. Just me and Matt and 4 month old Matthew. Grandad held him, jingled his car keys and called him "her" all night. He was a doting Grandad and that was a precious night. For 83 years he assured me that when he got to heaven Jesus would let him in. He was a good man. The best. There is nothing he would not do for his family, his friends and even an occasional stranger. 83 years of living a good life. 83 years and then... he recognized his need for Jesus and gave his life to him. 4 months later His Heavenly Father called him home. He was in a fishing boat in the middle of the creek and His Heavenly Father called him by name. He was spared from this life. He was taken into eternal glory. He had aged, but he wasn't old. He had health issues, but he wasn't sick. He was Grandad and all was well all the time. He lived life to the fullest even until that final moment. God has been teaching me what it means to live life to the fullest in the midst of a life filled with trials and hardship. Maybe that is why he is on my heart. That was his legacy. That was his calling. Grandad had seen hard days. He had been through his share of trials, but you would never have known. He had a passion and a love for life that far outweighed the circumstances. His last breathe was taken in a boat with a fishing pole in hand. Living life to the fullest! I can guarantee there were vienna sausages, sardines and saltine crackers in that boat. That was part of living fully and Grandad knew how. Though we mourned our loss, we rejoiced in his gain. To be absent from this world is to be present with the Lord for the heart of one who believes and he did. His legacy lives on and the desire of my heart is to embrace today, live life to the fullest and love Jesus. Grandad did.

"Wrestling With My Pillow"

Wrestling has never been my sport. To be honest "sports" have never been my sport. Worry...there is an area I can compete in. The problem with worry is there is no hope of winning. You've already lost before you even begin. Who wants to play a sport like that? You walk into the game tagged as a loser. For the last few months I have been having a wrestling match with my pillow. Sleep is not the problem once I find my way there. Getting to sleep is the problem. I toss and turn and some nights try to find a dry spot not laced with tears to lay my head. Faith, hope, trust, blessings...all the things I KNOW and teach and speak of and live somehow seem to find a hiding place when my head hits the pillow. The emotions, the hurts, the fears and the doubt all seem to surface and the wrestling match begins. The pillow is merely the tangible. My true wrestling opponent cannot be packed into such a neat and fluffy casing. A battle ensues each night as the minutes in red flash by so quickly. It is a battle of flesh versus spirit and yet I know in my heart that the battle is not mine. HE has warned me of the battle, but promised it is HIS and HE has won. Why do I insist on a fight that doesn't even belong to me? I sing and I pray and I quote scriptures the same as I did when I was five and monsters were lurking in the hall and living under my bed. I sing praises and the praise rises up and conquers the fear and then I am silent and allow my opponent a lofty lead. WHY? The obvious answer we know...I am a sinful man. Yet that answer does not suffice "for we are more than conquerors through Him who loves us and gave His life for us." I want to win this battle and yet I play as one who wants to lose. Laziness. There is a possible answer. It is easier to be lazy and accept defeat than to fight the battle and live a life that is disciplined, trained and fit. Lazy is not a word that I want associated with my name. If I am tagged as lazy then why work so hard at the stacks of folded laundry, the swishing of the toilet brush, the print free glass and meals that desire praise. This new found laziness I can only mask for a time. It begins to show in the dark circles under my eyes and in the weariness of my step and yet once again I know the REAL issue. I lack obedience. I possess everything I need for life and godliness and I choose to be lazy in this match against flesh and blood. Obedience is a choice. Daily the words, "Choose to obey" come out of my mouth as instruction to the four young men I am privileged to call sons. Choose. You have a choice and you know the results. Choose selfishness and reap the consequences or choose obedience and reap the rewards. We can sew to the flesh or we can sew to the spirit. We are instructed "not to become weary in doing good." We are not to become weary in this battle and yet "weary" seems to be such a pale word to describe my heart and the way in which I fight today. What is beyond weary? Defeat? A choice! Defeat does not come as a result of obedience for our specific instructions were NOT to become weary. Do not give up. Fight! Persevere! A harvest is waiting to be reaped but you cannot give up. Do farmers plant crops, weed, water, fertilize and then give up? No, they patiently wait and weather the rain, the wind, the hail and the cold and they reap the harvest that was never in their control, all the while trusting it to the hands of their Father and willing to accept what He yields as good. Giving up would make all the work to this point seem futile. Giving up means allowing someone else to reap the rewards and I know who that someone is and I know his plans for the harvest and I do not trust him at all. He seeks to destroy and reek havoc on our crops. Do not give up! I hear those words over and over again. Do not give up! My heart begins to argue...but Lord I have had enough sickness, sorrow, heartache, fear and worry and He says..."ENOUGH. It is finished. The complaining, the murmuring, the pity party, the doubt of My perfect plan and My perfect will. Enough!" He is God and He is good. Enough? It becomes a question. Is it enough to know that? It is! I know in my heart it is and the fight is worth it. It is all I have ever fought for. It is the only fight I know and it is worth it. For I know that my battle is NOT against flesh and blood, but it is a spiritual battle. It is a daily battle. The pearl was produced from irritation, the diamond a result of laborious mining and a bouquet of roses found in the midst of thorns seeking blood. Joy can be birthed from sorrow. Sorrow lasts for a night, but joy comes in the morning. The sorrow of watching The Savior nailed to a tree and brutally sacrificed birthed joy unspeakable. The wrestling match will continue, but the cause of the fight will change. No longer will I choose to fight for my flesh, for my rights or even for my comfort. My fight is for obedience. Doubt, fear, worry and weariness will be the victim of a head lock or maybe even a full nelson. Whatever that is? I will not give up and I will not accept defeat. How about you? Can you relate? Do you understand? Obedience. I choose to obey. Joy is found in obedience.

"Forced To Rest"

Life is busy! It is a whirlwind of activity. Some of the busyness is legitimate and some is due in part to our martyrdom attitude towards life. How dare someone ask us what we have going on and we answer with a boring, lazy, "Nothing, life is pretty calm. Not much to report." We would rather die and risk the wrath of God than to admit that we have nothing to do. We like to be busy. It gives us bragging rights. It makes us feel important and it ensures that the Jones's will never catch up to us. Our busyness is also self inflicted. We fill our calendar with things we never took before our Heavenly Father and asked permission to do. We become "yes" people as we seek to please man and appear as supermom before the world. This week the Lord forced me to rest and see that it is ok to do absolutely NOTHING! This is so hard for me. I like to be busy. Even when I don't have to be busy, I create busyness for the sake of busyness. This busyness was beginning to pay off. Last weekend my house was squeaky clean so I decided to clorox and scrub the floors with a toothbrush. This took longer than I anticipated, but I had some eager helpers. My house was clean, all the laundry was done, I had cooked meals for multiple days and even made some yummy lemon bars for a special treat. The floors had received some special attention and I was quickly entering that place of wondering what I would say was keeping me busy if a friend were to call and ask what I was up to. Quick, quick, think....what else can I do to keep me busy. On Saturday night my children began to drop like flies. At first I thought it might be the clorox fumes, but I soon learned that one by one they were each plagued by the flu. Was this the answer to my boredom? Taking care of sick children. I saw it more as an excuse to lay in the bed with them and watch movies, cuddle and read books. But do I really need an excuse to do that? Isn't that a part of being a great mom. Maybe, but a part that can be so easily forgotten because anything that requires we sit still and rest can be deemed as laziness. Is it considered laziness when we obey God's Word, "Be still and know that I am God" Psalms 46:10 He commands us to be still. We are to be still and KNOW. Know what? THAT HE IS GOD!! He is God in the midst of our pain, our suffering, our joys, our delights. He is God and He is good. He called me to an even greater place of rest this week as I too got this strain they call the flu. Fever, chills, aching, runny nose, yet stuffy, coughing, hurting and absolute misery. There was only one thing to be done. Rest! Yet for some reason it seems to be acceptable in the wake of sickness. I am embracing this place of rest. God has used this time to reveal more of Himself to me and to show me that He desires that I rest in Him not only when I am sick but always. When we are quiet, restful and attentive we can hear from Him. We can hear Him clearly when the noise of chaos and busyness are removed. When I stand before Him, He is not going to be interested in my to do lists, my chore chart, my toothbrush cleaned floors or my calendar of events. He wants to know that I obeyed Him. He wants to know that all of who I am was poured out for all of who He is and the work of His kingdom. I want to embrace this place of resting at His feet. I want to choose the better thing not only when I am sick, but always.

At the Home of Martha and Mary

38 As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him. 39 She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord's feetlistening to what he said. 40 But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, "Lord, don't you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself ? Tell her to help me!" 41 "Martha, Martha," the Lord answered, "you are worried and upset about many things, 42 but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her."

"A CELEBRATION OF LIFE"

A Right?

A Choice?

A Gift!

A Privilege!

LIFE!!

Every little girl’s dream. A burning desire. Something is different. A Tiredness. A glow. A fluttering. Movement. Life. Life fashioned deep within me by the creator of all things x’s 4. Only “One” could think of such a perfect plan. Such a precious way to develop life. Deep within. Safe. Secure. Binding. I wait. I dream. I hope. I plan. And then before body and soul get ready to burst I hear the sweetest sound. A faint cry as that tiny body learns how to suck in the air that will feed each breathe. A cry x’s 4 that forever changes my life. The man in blue holds that precious bundle into the air x’s 4. Naked. Dimpled. Wet. Crying. Beautiful. The most beautiful sight that will forever be engraved in my heart. Those eyes. Big. Brown. Piercingly gentle. Alert.

One glance and I will never be the same. I love so deeply without warning. Nothing could prepare me for this love. The depth of this love. The rejoicing. The mourning. The aching. The blessing of this love x’s 4. This love was instant and yet the wait for this day seemed so long. Each day from this moment on is fleeting. The firsts come so quickly. First smile. First bath. First roll over. First laugh. And yet it seems the firsts never end. And then they become the last. You lay upon my chest in perfect peace. Comforted. Safe. Secured. And yet you don’t belong to me. You are HIS and oh how hard that is to remember x’s 4. I cradle and feed you by means of which only God could design. I hear the satisfied coos and then without warning you stop. Milk dribbling down your face. You look up at me with those big brown eyes and grin the biggest grin a 1 inch mouth can produce. We hold that look and smile at each other and then hunger overtakes you again. But in that moment I read your mind. Thank you mommy. I love you mommy. I feel treasured. I feel secure. And even though I know this is the communication of a heart that can’t yet verbalize, to me it is a beautiful poem that will forever be sung in the memory of my soul x’s 4. Cherished Moments. Precious Memories. Sleepless nights as I watch each breath. My hand heavy upon your back as I pray blessing and so much more over this precious life x’s4. Fevers. Rashes. Ear infections. Stomach bugs. Unknown pains that produce sleepless nights and grumpy babies. All the while knowing HE loves you more than I do. Unconditional. Infinite. Perfect. Sacrificial.

You grow right before my eyes and I try to no avail to hold you close. Bike rides. Roller Skates. First sleepovers. Birthday Parties. Kindergarten. Letting go. Trusting. Faith. And then a gentle whisper to your soul and you are drawn. The day we have prayed for since conception has arrived. Your trust is placed in Him. Your life given to Him. Salvation. Forgiveness. New Life. A New Birth. Redeemed. Growing. Growing.

And then it seems that as quickly as you made your entrance into the world so to into manhood. Those dimpled toes are beginning to sprout and look like that of a man. That smooth baby face now has a roughness to the touch. Tall. Prestigious. Mature. The crackling voice and the awkward laugh. Yet that childlike faith continues. New revelations. New testings of your faith. Faith that is grounded. Faith that is secure. Faith that whispers to your soul. You are mine. All is well. I am in control and I am good. Jesus and Jesus alone. He is all you need. He is all you have ever needed. You know this full well and my heart rejoices. Questions unanswered. Plans not yet revealed. Yet full confidence in His will.

Now the life I once cradled, cradles me. My head rests upon your chest. Your tender touch of assurance that “Mom, I am fine.” You wipe away my tears and whisper all is well. He is in control. Our sustainer. Our deliverer. Our God. At that moment I know, my deepest heart’s desires have been fulfilled. You were never a right. You were never a choice. You are my privilege. You are my joy. You are my delight. You are my gift. You are LIFE. You are His breathe. His creation. His masterpiece. Perfectly flawed for His purposes. For His Kingdom’s glory. Nothing a coincidence. Not one moment of happenstance. No mistakes. Situations deemed flawed and cursed by the world but blessed and perfect by the standard of heaven. A weaving of His handiwork. A tapestry of His beauty. For His glory. LIFE x’s 4!

"Loved The Way We Love Them"

There are many reasons why I love my boys, but nights like tonight when the laughs are gut wrenching and the excitement is at its greatest I engrave those reasons in the precious memory section of my heart.

It started as a normal evening...Mommy cooking diner. Joshua stealing french fries as fast as I can cook them. Matthew asking every 30 seconds when the meal will be ready because he is starving. Caleb holding on to every minute of play before the heart breaking call to come inside and Jacob claiming that he is never hungry unless swiss cake rolls are on the menu. The steak sandwiches were in the panini press and the fries were being taken up batch after batch and I realized we had NO ketchup. You can't have homemade fries without ketchup. Knowing that my nieces and nephew love ketchup as much as my children do, I knew they would come to our rescue. I left Matthew in charge of swapping over the french fries as I made my less than 5 minute journey in search of ketchup. On the way home I called and I heard Caleb's voice on the other end of the line. In his best "indian" accent voice he says, "Hallo" "Caleb, can you ask Matthew to take up the paninis and put two more on the grill." Continuing in the accent I love, he says, "What da matter? You do not think I can do dis? Do not doubt me lady, do not doubt me. Ok, done and two more on the grill." "Caleb, what is the status of Matthew's french fries?" "Fry, I see no fry. I see steam, lots of steam. What I need to do for you lady? Do not doubt me." "I'm around the corner so hold on. We need to finish frying those french fries, but I don't want you to get hurt." "Let me see here lady, I know what to do..." crackling, popping, whishing..."Caleb what was that?" "Lady, I have it all under control. Drop and run, drop and run. I just throw one in da oil and run away." At this point I am laughing hysterically at this accent and how hilarious my Caleb is. He can make me laugh like no one else can. As I open my front door and hope that behind the billows of smoke or steam as Caleb apparently calls it, I can find my way to the kitchen. I recognize Jacob sitting on the floor with his hands over his eyes yelling," my eyes, my eyes, the smoke, the smoke." Joshua begins to open doors and blow like the big bad wolf huffing and puffing the smoke from the house. I remove the pan ready to burst into flames while still holding 6 black and crispy french fries and in walks Matthew. Slowly. Calmly. "What's going on out here?" "Matthew, you left the grease on the stove and it was about to catch fire. You were suppose to watch the fries." "I did, but then after I took them up I wasn't sure what to do so I went to the back to rest. Mom, you really shouldn't leave an 11 year old boy with a brain tumor in charge of something that can catch fire. I'm just saying." The house did not burn down and we had the greatest night. The laughter filled the house as thick as the smoke. I love my children. The voices. The impressions. The dramatic covering of the eyes as they overreact. The lackadaisical attitude of my oldest son. Everything about them I love. As I think about how deeply I love them and how much I treasure spending time with them I am reminded even more how much my Heavenly Father loves me. I John 3:1 "How great is the love the Father as lavished on us that we should be called the sons of God and that is what we are." The love we have for our children pales in comparison to the love our Father has for us. It is so hard to imagine sometimes when I look into those faces and know how deeply I love them. But oh how much greater He loves me. Matthew 7:11 "If you then though you are evil know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your heavenly father give goods gifts to those who ask him." Delight in Him. Embrace the time spent with your Father. He loves you. He rejoices over us with singing and he cherishes every moment we spend with Him. He is our Abba, Papa, Daddy, Father! He is our protector, our provider, our deliverer, our confidant, our wisdom, our comfort and everything else we need today or will ever need. Oh how He loves us!!

"Define Blessings"

I remember when I fell in love with him. It was the summer after my daddy had a heart attack. He sent me a letter filled with scripture and encouragement and asked me what I was learning while walking through this trial. I knew at that moment that this was the man I would spend the rest of my life with. The weeks and months that followed set the course for the rest of our life together as we sat on opposite ends of the couch talking well into the night about what God was teaching us, how He was changing our lives and what He was doing in the world around us. Though we aren't on separate ends of the couch anymore those talks are still my favorite. I was reminded of that tonight as we sat in a booth, in a quiet restaurant and once again broke the barriers of silence as we filled our corner of the building with what probably seemed like a buzzing of noise to those sitting around. To me that noise was sweet music to my soul. It was the continued building of oneness as I see God inscribing the same message on our hearts. As Matt began to share with me what God has been teaching him and doing in his life I realized that God has been working within my heart a similar message. Matt quoted a scripture tonight that the Lord has recently called him to dissect. Matthew 5:45 "He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous." Too often in life we equate blessings with obedience and trials and tragedy with disobedience. Is the one suffering from cancer being punished for a disobedient act? NO! John 9:1-3 "As he went along he saw a man blind since birth. His disciples asked him, "Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?" "Neither this man nor his parents sinned," said Jesus, "but this happened so that the work of God might be displayed in his life." Trials, sickness, difficulties and hard times do not always come because we have sinned or are disobedient. They can come as the consequences of disobedience and bad choices, but this is not always the case. There are times when we must face circumstances in our life so that the "work of God might be displayed in our life." So I ask you...define blessings? Was this man's blindness seen as a blessing from birth. I am certain that his parents weeped and mourned their child's lack of sight, but when seen in the light of eternity it was a blessing. Anytime God can receive the glory as the work of His hand is displayed for all to see, then it is in fact a blessing. The day Matthew was diagnosed with a brain tumor a dear friend was waiting in our driveway when we arrived home from the doctor. I don't remember much about those first few hours but I remember something he said, "These are the times we don't ask why me God, but instead why NOT me." This statement stands out to me so vividly because Matthew said the same thing that night at the hospital. He had not heard our dear friend share this with me, but laying on the bed in the Children's Hospital ER I asked Matthew how he was feeling about all of this. "I don't really feel anything right now. I'll just take it one step at a time. At first I thought, why me and then I thought why not me? God will take care of it." The minute something this world finds difficult approaches our lives we begin to question God's blessings. We compare our lot with another's. We wonder what we have done to deserve this trial. Our eternal perspective is all wrong. None of this is about us. How selfish to even think this way! It is all about HIM and HIS glory and HIS plan. I remember hearing Steven Curtis Chapman after his daughter's death say, "When you look at a small section of a tapestry it does not make since and is not very pretty, but when step back and look at the whole creation it is a beautiful masterpiece." We are so distracted by the threads in the small patch that we forget that God is weaving within us and through us a beautiful tapestry for His kingdom's glory. How conceited of us to tag those things He filters into our lives as blessings or curses. My cancer years ago seemed like such a curse at the time, but proved to be a blessing as once it was gone God followed it with 4 little blessings. He used it to accomplish His purposes. The death of our sweet dog Gideon seemed like such a tragedy years ago, but in hinds site it has been a blessings since one of our children is deathly allergic to dogs. God's ways are higher than our ways and His thoughts are higher than our thoughts. We must view our life and the circumstances in our lives with an eternal mindset. ALL FOR HIM AND FOR HIS GLORY!! (This is just a glimpse of our date night conversation, but do you see why I love him?) What have you tagged as a blessing or a curse in your life? What circumstances are you walking through right now that would cause you to want to trade places with another? Embrace this life that God has called you to. Ask Him how you can shine His light for His kingdom's glory. Ask Him to give you an eternal mindset as you walk in contentment whatever the circumstances. And Oh, how he loves us oh, Oh how he loves us, How he loves us all.

"The Moments That Change Our Lives"

Our lives can forever be changed in the twinkling of an eye. I can think of many moments in my life that have forever changed me. On March 16, 1996 when I said the words "I Do" my life was forever changed. In 1998 when in a groggy state I heard the doctor speak the words, "It's cancer" and I have never been the same. On four different occasions I have been blessed to have my life changed by a precious cry that broke through the silence of a delivery room and this heart has never been the same. On December 17 my life was forever changed when I heard the words "your son has a brain tumor." It doesn't take long. The words only have to be few, but forever you are changed. The course of your life, the way you live and the activities surrounding you are all changed in the twinkling of an eye. Around the dinner table in 1978 my life was FOREVER changed as I acknowledged Jesus Christ as my Savior. That decision, made at that moment has changed me and the way I have responded to all the rest of these moments forever. Without the peace of Jesus, without His love, without His eternal perspective and without His spirit reigning in my heart, my marriage, my cancer, my parenting skills and the nightmare of being told your son has a brain tumor would all have resulted in different attitudes and would have caused my life to look very different. But that moment at the age of 5 when I said yes to Jesus, I said yes to a change for the better. I gave up control. I acknowledged that He was now in control of my life and now all things were possible through Him. He takes the things that we think would be impossible for us to handle and He makes it possible, because we do not walk alone and now He handles those things. It is amazing how quickly life as we know it can change. Things that just weeks before we could do without a second thought can now cause us great difficulty. Matthew is learning this lesson right now as he adjusts to his life changing circumstances, but what he knows and WHO he knows is truth. Matthew understands that all of this is being filtered through his father's loving hands and he doesn't have to handle it because Easter sunday 2004 Matthew's life was forever changed when he asked Jesus into his heart and life. I will never forget the prayer that precious 5 year old prayed that day."Dear Jesus, I have sin in my life. Please forgive me. Come live in my heart and you be in control instead of me. Amen." Then those big brown eyes looked up at me and his daddy and said, "Now I'm not just your son, I'm your brother... in Christ." In that moment Matthew's life was forever changed. God began preparing him that day for what was to come. There is another moment that we long for that will forever change our lives. I Corinthians 15:52 says "in a flash, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound and the dead in Christ will be raised imperishable and WE WILL BE CHANGED." The changes in this life may change how we live and how we view things on earth, but they are not permanent. One day my cancer will be gone, one day Matthew will no longer have a brain tumor, but we have the promise that in the twinkling of an eye WE WILL BE CHANGED. Why? Because we are in Christ. The very moment we called on Him, He not only changed our lives here on earth forever, but our eternity was forever changed. That hope is what makes the rest of this possible. That hope is what washes all of our fear and sorrow away. In the twinkling of an eye, in a sheer moment your life can forever be changed. JESUS can change your life for all of eternity. Call on His name. Say yes to Him. JESUS!

'No More Sorrow, No More Pain"

When our children are just learning to speak we ask them this question, "Who loves you?" They begin to go down the list, Mommy loves me, Daddy loves me, etc. Then we ask them another question. "Who loves you the most?" To which they have all replied "JESUS." That is our prayer, that they would know that Jesus loves them the most and that in return they would love Him the most too. Today I realized just how very specifically this prayer has been answered.

Since Matthew's surgery 2 weeks ago, I have asked him at least 5 times a day, "How are you doing buddy?" To which he always replies, "Mom, I'm fine." Today I ask him to come and sit beside me on the couch. He looked really tired and weary and so I asked "How are you feeling today buddy?" To which he replied, "Mom, I know you are concerned about me, but please stop asking me that. I am fine and even if this tumor takes my life I will be fine." I gasped and said, "Matthew, don't say something like that. I don't even want to think that way." "Mom, no offense to you but if I had to choose between spending time with you or being with Jesus, I would choose Him. Just think about it...in Heaven there is no more sorrow, no more pain. I haven't had much sorrow in my life, but I have had pain. To be with Jesus would be awesome. I long for that day, but I do love you." The whole conversation gave me a very uneasy, grateful, creepy peace. From a spiritual perspective as a mother I know this is the message we have engraved in his heart since he was very young. My heart is so encouraged to KNOW that this is his ultimate desire. I want him to long to be with Jesus. On the other hand, as a mother, this is the very thought process that scares you to death. I don't want to let go and in my heart I truly don't feel that I will have to right now, but none of us are assured of tomorrow. We are all planning to stay, but should be preparing to go. That is how Matthew spends his days. He is here! He is not going anywhere right now, but he is preparing for that day when he will see his king face to face. What an encouragement this should be to all of us. How are we preparing to go? What are we doing to prepare for the day when we meet our King face to face? What are we doing for His kingdom and His glory while we are here? Are we holding on to the people and the things of this world so tightly that fear of letting go interferes with our longing for Jesus? Do we spend our days in meaningless activities or are we seeking to make a difference for Him? One of Matthew's goals this year in planning to stay, but preparing to go is to read through the Bible. He started today. He is committed to this goal. He knows where is strength is found and where true wisdom is acquired. He is also in the process of writing the testimony of what has happened in his life over the last 2 weeks. He wants to turn it in at school as an essay. He also said, "Then it will be ready, if God ever asks me to share it with someone." He is planning to stay, but only for HIS glory. As a mom, I am honored, I stand in awe of God's faithfulness and I am challenged to know my Savior more and long for Him. What will you do in 2011 as you plan to stay, but prepare to go?

"Things Pondered"

Luke 2:19 "But Mary treasured up all of these things and pondered them in her heart."

Mary had been through a 9 month whirlwind. An angel had appeared to her informing her that she was going to have a baby even though she was a virgin. Not only was she going to have a baby, but she was going to give birth to the Messiah, the Promised One, The Savior of the world. The baby within her womb would one day save her (His mother) from sin, death, hell and the grave. Just a tad bit overwhelming don't you think for this young virgin? Can you imagine how fast those 9 months passed by and can you imagine the emotion, the wondering, the dreams of what this new life would be like? She was giving birth to the King of Kings and yet on the night of His birth she found herself in a stinky barn surrounded by animals. I am sure this was not what she had imagined. Where is the purple cloth, where are the servants, where was room service? "Come on people this is the King I am giving birth to." After a night of rejection and labor pains Mary held in her arms the answer to EVERYTHING. Suddenly NOTHING else mattered. It ALL made sense. The very touch of this baby in her arms, the star, the angels singing Hallelujah, the shepherds who came to see and then left to tell, all of this and it suddenly made sense to Mary. There was so much to ponder. There was so much to treasure. Every detail, every circumstance, every trial was suddenly seen as a blessing. As she looked into those clear eyes, held those precious little hands and snuggled that perfect baby she knew that this purpose was much bigger than what her human mind could comprehend. That is when her faith took over. Her hope was placed in this baby. She treasured ALL of these things in her heart. Why did she treasure them? Why the need to ponder? I don't know about Mary, but I have felt the need to treasure this week and ponder. I have been treasuring the event of the last 2 weeks in my heart and I have been pondering God's plan and His will concerning them all. I will confess that in those moments that I forget to treasure and ponder I begin to doubt. I have seen the very hand of God and experienced His peace, His healing and His comfort and yet when I let my guard down and choose not to treasure and ponder I am tempted to worry, fret and fear once again. WHY? HE is real! HE has met me at my point of need and yet I doubt that He will do it again. When I continue to treasure all of these things, thank Him, praise Him and ponder all of this in my heart, there is no room for doubt or fear. Mary had a lot to treasure. She treasured(regarded as precious) the events that had already taken place. She could see the hand of God on each and every detail. Oh what a treasure that was. Then she pondered.(to think about carefully before deciding or concluding, to appraise, to reflect.) She was reflecting on all that had happened and all that was to come as the result of this perfect baby. May we continue to treasure all that He has done and ponder His purposes. He is alive, He is active in our lives and He loves us so very much. JESUS!

The Evidence of Faith

Faith has been defined as "complete confidence in a person or plan." Our faith is in the Lord Jesus Christ. Our complete and total confidence is in the person of Jesus and in the plan He has for our lives. For 32 years I have talked about my faith in Jesus and at times I have been asked to allow my faith to have feet. At the age of 25 I was diagnosed with thyroid cancer and I have been watching God work out His plan for me in this area for over 12 years. Even that did not require the faith that I have been asked to practice this week. When your greatest fear becomes reality the only thing you can grip is the complete and total confidence (faith) that you have in the Lord Jesus Christ. Hebrews 11:1 "Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen." The substance of things hoped for or the assurance of things hoped for. The only hope we have is in Jesus. On Friday when I was told my 11 year old had a brain tumor I knew that NOTHING I did could make Matthew better. I couldn't will him better. I couldn't hug and kiss his boo boo and make it go away. My only hope was to place my son in the hands of Jesus. As Matthew was being wheeled back into surgery the thought occurred to me that I was sending my child down the hall with a TOTAL stranger. A man I had met less than 12 hours ago and I was giving him permission to cut my son's head open, drill a hole in his skull and work with instruments inside of his brain. What kind of sense does that make? I put my confidence and trust in the hands of a total stranger just because he "said" he was a doctor. I never asked to see his credentials. I didn't even have references. I just took him at his word. I "hoped" he knew what he was doing. Physically that is exactly what I did, but my true faith was not in this doctor who proved to be remarkable. He is merely a mortal man and he can and does make mistakes. As Matthew was being wheeled into that operating room I was placing him into the hands of the one to whom he belongs. I released my grip and placed him back into the hands of his Father. Matthew has never been mine. He has been on loan. I am a steward for a time. How long? I don't know. Longer than this world could promise last Friday. If my faith had not been in Jesus Christ I would have clung to the under rafters of that hospital bed and left claw marks down the hall as they pried me away from his side. Instead I kissed his head and released my grip and again placed my complete and total trust in Jesus. Faith with feet. Jesus asked me to walk the faith that spills forth from my mouth. When you have had to face your greatest fear, what is left to fear? It is easy to "say" you trust Jesus. It is easy to "say" that our faith is in Him. It is easy to "say" that He is in control and that He works out all things for our good. It is all easy to "say" but living it out and living it out in the midst of the fire seems much more difficult, but it doesn't have to be. If I can place my son into the hands of a stranger with a drill and a knife then I can place all of my children, all of my circumstances and all of my everything into the one that I have known so intimately for 32 years. I can trust in the one who has a long list of credentials and references. My trust and complete confidence is in the one who has raised men from the dead, performed many miracles and who He himself was raised from the dead. My faith is in Jesus. My complete and total trust and confidence is in Him. Where is your trust today? Do you trust in man? Do you trust in circumstances? Trust today in the person of the Lord Jesus Christ. He is able and He is worthy.