LOVE.

I've been away from blog land for a while now. Actually, just this blog. I needed to quiet myself and get right with God so to speak. I needed to realize that my fleeting thoughts weren't good material for my blog. It takes some chewing on, some digesting, some PRAYING, to open your heart on a blog. It brings messy turmoil to open it prematurely and then try and step in sync with what you've said, when really, you're not a hundred percent committed to your words. Especially controversial ones.

It came full circle to me with the latest uproar about the Grammy's. I really could care less about what went on there. Have stopped watching Hollywood glorify themselves at award shows for years now. But when I read the lyrics to the song by Macklemore (yeah, just now...I'm really out of the loop), I am deeply saddened. Unfortunately, it sounds like hateful Christianity is what he's been exposed to. His story-in-rap is a symptom of the broken human condition...and I am not just talking about non-believers.

So many Christians, (including me), have spit out their thoughts and ideas prematurely, without chewing on them, digesting them, and most of all PRAYING...so much so, that believers in the greatest LOVE this world has ever seen, are looked upon as the Haters this world feels free to discriminate against.

Those who hate stereotypes in turn, stereotype us. While it is wrong, I see that there are Christians out there that make the temptation of stereotyping hard to resist.

How can that be?

How can a doctrine like the Gospel, centered on LOVE, become so distorted as to blind the blind with Hate? Remember, Christ's ministry? Did He shout from the roof-tops the sin of the people, or did he love the sinner, heal them, and ask them to go and sin no more? We are called to LOVE. The healing and imposed conviction is not our right--only God's.

It shouldn't be surprising. There's an Enemy out there who is the Great Deceiver. And He doesn't just deceive the lost, but the children of God. How appropriate that his biggest attack is on LOVE?

Persecution is inevitable. But let's not ask for it by flippant words and giving into prideful emotions causing us to force our doctrine on those who don't even believe in our God. Let's LOVE, build relationship, seek trust and worthiness to share our hearts with the non-believer. I would say that is the supple ground for God's supernatural power to heal and save.

It's time we as believers fall to our knees before we speak, before we type, before we act. The name of true LOVE is at stake.

After all, it is Christ's greatest commandment:

To Love the Lord your God with all your heart, mind, and soul. AND, to Love your neighbor As yourself.

Let's stop showing the world what we are against, but show them Who we are FOR...God is Love...pure, holy, right, and true.

That's the LOVE worth celebrating!

Find Your Hope

If you have no hope, find it for good. A man, who presidents, leaders, nations have held in high esteem over the years, has a message for you on his 95th birthday:

TGIF: Shopping SPREE! Operation Christmas Child

Operation Christmas Child 2011

One of our most treasured traditions is coming up this weekend: Our annual shopping trip for Operation Christmas Child!

We've done this since my oldest was toddling around. It is always rewarding, even if it takes a little bit of growing pain to get through it. Sometimes we have whining at the store...well, most times...because shopping for someone else with such abandon could be considered shock to children who are unfortunately immersed in a culture of, "that's mine", and "gimme, gimme!" But, whether it's in the middle of filling a shopping cart with trinkets, toothpaste, and toy cars, or sorting through the loot to pack each "shoe box" with great love for a child across the world, my kids never fail to discover the satisfaction and joy in giving Christmas away through Operation Christmas Child.

How blessed we are to live in this day where media can inspire us with pictures of those in need of our good fortune, that missionaries can bless children in every culture, and that we are able to touch a life across thousands of miles, one that we may only meet in Heaven one day!

National Collection Week is November 18th-25th! Click here to find out more, including a drop-off location near you! 

A Brimming Heart vs. A Bulging Hamper

It's cold and rainy today. I've fixed breakfast for four children, sent one child to the middle school, two children to the elementary school, played with toys with the two year old, taught her A-B-C, sang songs, did some laundry, got dressed, ate lunch with my husband, and checked email, Facebook, blogs.

During all this, I've searched my heart of the bad until I seem to scrape its edges like cleaning out the inside of an egg worrying that the scouring will cause a break.
What happens when I clean it out, purge, sort through to find anything that needs fixing, and I am left with nothing but a hairline crack because I try too hard?
I've done a lot of soul-searching these past months. I've discovered who I was, who I am, and who I want to become. I've dedicated and rededicated myself as a mother, wife, friend, and writer.
And yet, nothing looks different on days like today.
Not in the middle of a cold and rainy day, when all that waits is more laundry, restless dogs, and a house that could use a good scrubbing.
All things I don't really want to deal with. Yet, things that need tending to.

But that hairline crack reminds me of the journey to a brighter future. Reminds me that there is more healing to do and I haven't arrived yet. No matter how much I re-stuff my heart with dreams and hopes, and desires to do amazing things, I am still on an imperfect journey with no quick fix for God's good timing.

What do I do with the day's monotony that appears more as quick sand than a solid path along this journey?

Perhaps I've adopted the lens of this culture. The glare burning success, independence, greed into my very soul. Perhaps my heart, no matter how much I clean it out, has taken the shape of prosperity and cannot handle the fact that the only thing that will prosper today is my bulging hamper.

Or...

Maybe...

There's something around the corner. Maybe these are birth pains to bring about something greater...or even something dreadful. When I think of it that way, I find the ability to be thankful in the monotony...for the boredom (I cringe as I hate that word)! When I have my eyes set above, knowing there is Someone mighty in control of what is ahead, then I find peace in the cold and rainy, dreary and dragging day.

It is a lie to think my heart is shaped like the idols of the world. I know better. The only prosperity mold for my heart is an everlasting one.

Ugh. It is so hard sometimes. And yet, it really is not that difficult. Because of all the millions of circumstances out there, I am blessed by mine even at this moment.

In the dreary, I can pray for those hurting, those sick, and those dying. And I don't just want to mutter, I want to call upon His Mighty Power to comfort and heal. Can this day be considered dreary at all?

In the rain, I can sing and dance with my little girl, even if it doesn't move my dream forward, even if it doesn't fill the dryer. But what better accompaniment to the rain?

Focusing on these things doesn't mean my dreams will be forgotten. They still rest in my heart ready to sprout by the sunshine of God's perfect timing. Focusing on these things doesn't mean I am ignoring the next dose of medicine needed to heal. Actually, couldn't these things bring about a great healing for my restlessness and doubt?

Wow. I thought pouring my heart out to my husband at lunch would help clear my mind and give me a chance to start fresh the rest of the day. Guess my heart wasn't done purging. As usual, writing is a salve, and I pray, that the hairline crack diminishes quickly.

The Wounds of A Child's Heart

My little girl has discovered the joy of superheroes. A friend made her a sweet purple cape and she's been jumping off the hearth yelling, "Super Geurl" at the top of her little lungs. It's the sweetest thing ever...well, since the three boys were in this same stage.

"Mama, you do it!" is a phrase I hear often when she wants me to play with her and her babies, draw her a picture, play with play-doh...basically any time she is needing a friend, I am it.: ) (Praising God as I write this because I know these days will go by fast, even though I've let the monotony get to me lately).

So, Super G-e-url wanted Mama to jump off the hearth with her. So I did. And I yelled, "Super Mom," and she giggled. 

And we did it again.

And again. (Besides superheroes, she's also in that stage of repetition that has no end).

The joy was contagious and I didn't mind indulging her in the constant jumping...heck, I needed the exercise! But when my seven year old came up, motioned for me to hear a secret, I leaned in smiling and a little out of breath. He whispered,

"Remember when I used to always ask you to play Sonic-mom and you hardly ever did."

His whisper may as well have been shards of glass to my mama-heart. They were sharp, hostile even in the hushed tone, and his eyes were wide with accusation.

At first, I didn't know what to say. He spoke of a time when he was just three years old and was obsessed with Sonic the Hedgehog. And then, I DID remember when he would ask me to play Sonic-mom, and I'd say yes, and he'd run off as happy as can be and I thought it was the easiest entertainment ever.

But what I didn't realize is that something I did or didn't do at those moments, hurt him.

The thing is, in my grown up mind, I wanted to say, "don't be so sensitive.You have a poor memory, because I said yes all the time and you'd run off and play without me."

But how can I tell a seven year old boy that his feelings don't count? I can't. Because they do count. And they are an indicator of a wound--no matter how small--that only I can help heal four years later.

Whether he had expected me to follow him and play my role as Sonic-mom, and when I didn't he stuffed it down and hid his emotion (very typical of his personality) without me knowing...Or I said no one too many times, to a little boy who had two older brothers and their school and activities stealing away attention. I don't know, but it's real and it's something he's held on to. 

That night of joyous superhero role play, revealed a crossroads in his heart and our relationship.

I could've shrugged him off, or worse, scolded him for thinking such terrible things about his mother who has always tried to be here for him. I could've slathered him in guilt and shame for being so ungrateful.

Think of the adult that he might become with that message filling his heart?

Or,

I could wrap my arms around him, bite back my excuses, and say, "I am so sorry you feel that way. I love you and you are so important to me. I wish I could have played Sonic-mom with you more." And be sure to slather him with the salve of forgiveness and worth.

After doing the latter, I have become more aware of the chances to spend with him. I take every snuggle and I go check on him, just because. "Super Mom" can't just settle with managing a group of four, but she must be sure to nurture each child as if they were her only one. It's not easy, but it's necessity. And perhaps, if anything else, his little whisper was a red flag for me to step it up!

I am going to mess up as a mom. I have. And I am one hundred percent sure that I am going to in the future. It's just my human, fleshy, mama way. But if I can keep my ears and heart open to my babies, then maybe, the road ahead will be one of healing, and not one of future regret.