Year of Living Biblically….

I’ve been listening to this, this week.  (gotta love audio books on my i-pod;)  I found it  Entertaining- and surprisingly, challenging.

 So far- here are the questions that have risen from it:

1) I wonder if God thinks my attempts at holiness (following the Bible’s teachings) are as silly as Jacob’s often are in his book.  I’m guessing the answer is sometimes “yes”.

2) I wonder what following Jesus really looks like?  (I keep thinking of Jesus washing Judas’s feet this week…… )  

3) Where is the line between “legalism” and honoring God by following…

4) I think it’s interesting that Christian’s keep a “Letterman’s top 10″ type list of sins…….Not the 10 commandments, but a heirarchical list of worst to minor sins….. While the Bible simply says all sin separates us from God.  The size of the sin doesn’t change the distance.   We’re all sinners.  In need of forgiveness.   I’m no better, or worse than anybody else.

5) I think this book is a great example of our desperate need for grace.  There is NO way that we could daily track and live by every law that is listed in the Bible.  That’s kind of the point.  We can’t do it on our own- we need the relationship.

Here is where I’m camping out ;)

Galatians 3

Any thoughts? 

 

Just Me and Noah……Welcome to date day!

The sun is shining. There is no rain. There doesn’t seem to be a flood on the horizon and animals are not lining up 2 by 2. (The 2 cats, however, are fighting in the hallway!)

But today- it’s all about me and Noah. My Noah. The most incredible 5 year old, that I know. Friday’s are “our days.” I’ve talked previously about dating my kids. Somehow- our dating tradition has taken an interesting turn with Noah. The emphasis is heavy on tradition.

On Fridays, we go to “Fridays” He seems pretty set on the idea that “Friday’s” is where you MUST go on Friday. A law, rule or at least tradition not to be broken. So, nearly every week, we head out for our lunch date. I ask, each week, “Where should we go?” and he laughs. “Duh, Mom it’s Fwiday! We have to go to Fwidays!” (those “w’s” are not typo’s he’s having a little trouble with “r’s” ;) Some weeks he starts asking “Is it Fwiday yet?” On Monday. (He sounds a lot like the rest of us.)

Noah’s menu never varies. He starts with Fried Mac ‘ Cheese, (something surely thought up by the devil to inflate my thighs, especially when dipped in ranch dressing!) then moves on to pasta with sauce and “parmish” (his very informal and special word for parmesan). Rootbeer from a bottle is his extra special treat.

I have iced tea and whatever menu item my hormones call for at the moment.

After lunch we head to the “bookstore.” We talk about books, read them (and more often than not) buy at least one. After that the schedule varies- we might hit a park, or head home. Usually we end up on the couch with our new books being shared.

Friday is our special day to savor together- once he’s in school (soon- working on that plan) we’ll simply shift our time. Traditions change with my kids needs. But the memories don’t. They are forever.

In the busyness of mothering- I’m learning to pause- and enjoy. How bout you?

Psalm 90:12
Teach us to number our days aright,
that we may gain a heart of wisdom.

Lord- I pray that you’d help me make time and number my days right… take my schedule Lord- my laundry, my housework, ministry and responsibilities…. show me and help me to take up your priorities- I love you Lord- make every moment count- amen.

 

Body by baked goods…..

Caution visitors- this is a “girlfriend post” be forewarned.Boink. Boink. Boink.
I feel a thumping on my hindquarters. Not something that happens every day.

“Mommy, your butt is boinky” Came a little voice from the rear.

He continues to bounce his head off my back side like a vertical, portable trampoline as I attempt to make dinner.

As I cook spaghetti, I wonder what happened to my body.

I used to be a runner. Like, a  6 + miles a day kind of runner. Not so much any more. The knees can’t take it.. and let’s face it I barely find time to shower.  An extra hour to run just isn’t in the schedule.

I used to consciously build my body with protein drinks and healthy foods-I watched the scale to make sure I didn’t dip BELOW a safe weight. I was all “Body by Jake” and Aerobics in the living-room.– Now my body could be better described as “Body By Baked Goods” Cookies- cake… bread… yum. Not so much with the ice cream or cheese cake. But give me chocolate or face my wrath!

It’s not just the “muffin tops” that are an issue. Although- they have their place as well. It’s the “Bundt Cake butt” and even worse- after nursing three sons— it’s the “Baguette b**bs” that bother me most. Let’s just say- I heard a song about it….”the girls hang low…and they wobble to and fro- you could tie them in a knot, you could tie them in a bow- you could throw them over your shoulder like a continental soldier… yes the girls hang low…..”

My youngest- who has an uncanny sense of reality- once interrupted my “lean forward, let’em swing, then haul them into the bra-garage” method of bra fitting that I learned at Victoria Secret-(just a note- when your body’s built by baked goods- VS becomes a resource for breast care as opposed to recreational usage instruction or inspiration…well mostly;) ) This method is also known as the “Cha Cha b**b slide”.

He announced with a sense of awe-

“Mom, your b**bs are long!”

From then on- I’ve remembered to close both my bedroom door AND the bathroom door before dressing.

Bundt cake butt- baguette boobs and muffin tops and all- this is the body I have- I think I ought to take better care of it—I’d hate to start feeling like “day old baked goods” in the clearance bin at the grocery.

PS have been quite sick all week- this post has been written under the influence of cough and cold medication the author may revoke any statements herein after the meds wear off.

MOPS convention was centered on “Dwelling well” One of the scriptures was pretty convicting:

1 Cor 6:19-20
“Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own; you were bought at a price. Therefore honor God with your body.”

Dear Lord- Please help me to better care for the body you choose to dwell in- but while your here- help yourself to the baked goods- I’m all about hospitality! I love you Lord- amen.

 

MOPS International Convention: A lesson learned between sessions: If The Shoe Fits, Wear it… if not— CHANGE THEM!

Shoes lie.

They act all wedgy, heeled and comfy in the store.. then, they sneak up and attack with skin blistering pain in the middle of the airport.

I know. I know. It was my own fault. I have traveled enough to know never wear un-tested shoes while traveling. But these looked perfect!

They lied.

The real problem is- as soon as I realized they were more effective than steel wool at removing the skin from the tops of 8 of my 10 toes (before I ever made it through airport check-in) I should have changed my shoes.

I didn’t. I though I’d be ok. Besides- I was carrying a brown bag… and wearing a brown jacket…. I couldn’t exactly wear the alternative I had in my bag….. they were black! Matching shoes and bags is just the way I roll…. I didn’t know any better.

I do now.

For 5 days, I crept through MOPS Convention trying every pair of shoes I had. Tennis shoes didn’t work. Flat brown sandals didn’t work. My “Always comfy-yet cool” back-up black pumps didn’t work. I slipped my shoes off and on- countless times. I bought 3 new pair of WAY over priced- (and now pretty much wrecked) socks and wore them instead of shoes.

My feet looked like raw hamburger. They felt like they were on fire. My MOPS Sisters were there for me. Ever ready-and prepared- bandaids were presented with appropriate sympathy. Neosporin WITH pain reliever was a blessed balm. Extra time in the shower (a real sacrifice when you’re sharing a room with 3 other women) was gladly given. AT the end of the long days- when I just wanted to whine about my feet. No one said “shut-up—it’s your own fault” (I knew it anyways;) they just listened- with empathy and yes- the pity I wanted;)

At the airport I had been encouraged to change my shoes- I should have listened. At our training that first crazy day, I was again encouraged to just take off the shoes. I didn’t.

Was it pride?
Appearance management?
Stubbornness? Stupidity?

Probably a little of each. But, today- while I’m resting my feet and letting them heal. I have had time to think about other things I’ve “worn” that did the same kind of damage:

Attitudes that hurt but became habit.
Behaviors that hurt me (like eating cookies at midnight because they are THERE) but I am too stubborn to let go of.
Sins that seem pleasurable but cause scarring.

Shoes lie. So do attitudes, behaviors and sins. They seem like a good fit, they seem appealing. They are not. We may feel locked in- because it’s all we know. (I’m admittedly a matchy- matchy clothes and shoes kind of mom) But- in reality we simply need some help to CHANGE them, then heal the damage.

We may need confrontation about what we’re wearing. “Girl- those shoes got to go” or “Are you sure that’s an attitude you want to wear?” We may need a balm to place over our wounds. Words of love- in the face of pain. We may need a band-aid to cover and protect. A friend to help work through feelings and ideas. A friend to protect our heart. A friend to help us find something that is a better fit- something that heals instead of hurts.

Finally- we might need time to rest and heal.

How are your “shoes” fitting? What are you walking around in? Stuff that hurts but you don’t know if you want to change? Cause it’s all you know? Don’t be stubborn, like I was. I’ll be nursing these feet for days. Cute shoes will be put away for quite a while. I’ll be barefoot for a while- trying to heal. trust me- it’s not worth it… If the shoe fits- girl - go ahead and wear it- if not- CHANGE EM… and change em QUICK! Before the blisters form and the skin tears.

By Sunday- the day I came home. My toes were so bloodied and painful- that my bandaids and socks were sticking to the wounds. I needed some help getting them off. There are “other” shoes that I’ve worn for years- attitude and sin that I’ve grown so accustomed to, and that have so wounded me- that I need help with removing them.

Good thing I know someone who specializes in cleaning wounds changing hearts and healing hurts. His name is Jesus.

If you’re feeling blisters form on your heart….or that your attitude and behavioral shoes aren’t fitting- or that you’ve encountered wounds that need healing- He cares and can longs to help.

John 13
Jesus Washes His Disciples’ Feet

It was just before the Passover Feast. Jesus knew that the time had come
for him to leave this world and go to the Father. Having loved his own who were
in the world, he now showed them the full extent of his love.

The evening meal was being served, and the devil had already
prompted Judas Iscariot, son of Simon, to betray Jesus. Jesus knew that the
Father had put all things under his power, and that he had come from God and was
returning to God; so he got up from the meal, took off his outer clothing, and
wrapped a towel around his waist. After that, he poured water into a basin and
began to wash his disciples’ feet, drying them with the towel that was wrapped
around him. He came to Simon Peter, who said to him, “Lord, are
you going to wash my feet?”

Jesus replied, “You do not realize now what I am doing, but later
you will understand.” “No,” said Peter, “you shall never wash my
feet.” Jesus answered, “Unless I wash you, you have no part with me.”

“Then, Lord,” Simon Peter replied, “not just my feet but my hands
and my head as well!” Jesus answered, “A person who has had a
bath needs only to wash his feet; his whole body is clean. And you are clean, though
not every one of you.” For he knew who was going to betray him, and that
was why he said not every one was clean.

When he had finished washing their feet, he put on his clothes and
returned to his place. “Do you understand what I have done for you?” he asked
them. “You call me ‘Teacher’ and ‘Lord,’ and rightly so, for that is what I am.
Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash
one another’s feet. I have set you an example that you should do as I have done
for you. I tell you the truth, no servant is greater than his master, nor is a
messenger greater than the one who sent him. Now that you know these things, you
will be blessed if you do them.

Dear Lord- I pray that you’d wash my feet-my hands and face and heart. I ask you to heal my wounds and those of my sisters and brothers- God I pray that you’d give us courage to take off the shoes that hurt. I pray that you’d help us break through the pride- stubbornness and other reasons that cause us to walk in shoes that hurt. I love you Lord- and pray in your name- amen.

 

An experience with gentleness- behind the "shortbus"

Speed Limit:

45 mph

Current speed?

0 mph

Why? Because I’m sitting behind the short-bus. It has stopped every 35 feet along my entire route to Target. It’s riders slowly depart. Over and over.

As friends have strongly suggested that knitting while driving is probably not a good idea… I’m. just. waiting. Noah and I sing along to the radio. (I forget that the sunroof is open, and I’m giving quite a show to anyone around to hear)

In an attempt to maintain my “Oh so cool” reputation. (Yeah, right) I stop singing, and I start to watch. We roll 35 more feet and I see a tall hoodlum standing at the roadside. His head is shaved. His jeans are black with curious white patches. (G-unit- I’m sure but are they bleach speckled or what? Not sure…) His shirt sports a picture that I can’t describe here. I can (unfortunately) tell what brand of boxers he’s wearing. (That much of them is showing) His sparkling head is adorned with a “bluetooth” headset. He’s talking on the phone.

I assume he’s “working.” Whatever that means.

I wonder why on earth he’s standing at the curb.

The bus rolls to a gentle stop.

A sweet faced ( and equally bald) widely grinning, young rider departs the bus. His hands are raised, waving wildly. He is so excited he can’t control them. He shuffle steps to the edge of the first bus step. He nearly totters over from the weight of his overstuffed backpack. He is met at the step by the hoodlum.

The hoodlum gently reaches up and removes the backpack. He places it on his own strong back. He smiles with a warmth and love that is rare and full of joy. He takes the hand of the grinning boy- who is may be challenged, physically and cognitively but is clearly not challenged in the area of love. The hoodlum leads him home.

It is the most gentle act I have witnessed in…well, I don’t know how long.

It makes me wonder so many things:

I wonder if an outsider would have seen the same scene when Christ found me….and removed my backpack of sin, guilt, shame….all the crap I was carrying, and gently led my spiritually challenged self home…

I wonder when the last time was, that I was that gentle?

I wonder if I could be that gentle.

I wonder how many times I’ve misjudged based on appearances?

I wonder if I had seen a father and son? A friend? A caregiver?

I wonder at gentleness being strength under control.

I wonder at the gentleness of God.

I sit in wonder until a horn sounds behind me….

Jolted back to reality, I realize the short bus is gone… I’m blocking traffic.

“But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness,
goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things
there is no law. Those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the sinful
nature with its passions and desires. Since we live by the Spirit, let us
keep in step with the Spirit. Let us not become conceited, provoking and
envying each other.” Galatians 5:22-26

I think, I saw a glimpse of Jesus- from behind the shortbus.

“Lord- I pray that you’d make me as gentle as the “hoodlum” I saw from behind the shortbus. I also pray that you’d bless them both for the love joy and gentleness they shpwed me. I am constantly amazed at your gentleness God- and your patience with my challenges. Thank you God- for taking my backpack and leading me home. I love you Lord- amen.”

 

Does God Sound like Paul Harvey?

Hmmm….Maybe- but with better tone quality. Click over to my post today at “Laced With Grace” to find out if I’ve lost my mind…or maybe, just maybe, it’s an analogy.

 

luxury of lilacs

All year long they grow….. plain- somewhat ugly, wild looking bushes alongside of my porch.

Then- suddenly, for a few short weeks in May, they bloom. Their scent greets you at my front door. Their color can be seen form the street.

For the first few years, I let them on the bush. They withered. Wilted. Died.

Now- every day, I cut bunches and fill vases. It only takes a few minutes, but if feels like such absolute luxury. A full senses reminder of God’s love care and creation. Beautiful full bouquets of fresh flowers, in the kitchen, the livingroom and even our bedroom. They still wilt, they still die. But now- I enjoy them fully, before they do. I don’t worry about them-I just enjoy them while they are here. ;)

” Praise be to his glorious name forever; may the whole earth be filled with his glory. Amen and Amen.” Psalm 72:19

My post for today is up at Laced With Grace- “Drinking it in” find out if Ihave a drinking problem…. and what “unsafe drinking water” is. See you there!

 

Tuesdays, Laced With Grace

Today I’m at “Laced With Grace” if you stop by … you get to learn how I earned the nick-name of “slow-mo” in high school…..;) A little hint—- I “kind of” ran cross-country for 3 years……

 

Where am I today?

I’m posting HERE. Hurry, GO! Click it…You’ll find out about Noah getting STUCK…..and what on earth that might have to do with Easter week…..;)

 

Noah’s Grace

“Noah! Where are you? Noah ______ _______ “ (insert middle and last name for classic Mom emphasis.) “What are you doing?” It had only been a few minutes since he had let the living room to go “potty.” About 2 minutes longer than it should have taken.

“I’m coming! I have to change!” Said a little voice, as five year old feet hit the steps- going upstairs, NOT towards the living room. Something was up.

A quick investigation showed my his need to change was not related to the potty. When I went in the bathroom, I found mascara and eye shadow smeared on the counter. Worse yet? There were trails of eye-brow wax across the sink and floor. I looked to see if he’d even used the toilet- and to my dismay, he had, but not for the reasons the I would. My toilet was now decorated with eyeballs and a smile. I fumed.

I had spent all day playing housework catch-up after a rough week last week. I called him down. He looked like he was in a 1950’s western, as an “Indian” of the John Wayne as a cowboy type. He had mascara warpaint.

I made him have a seat, in “time out” while I scraped the counter of wax and tried to remove the makeup from the toilet seat. I was furious and I made sure he knew it. The harder I had to scrub- the more angry I got and for some reason- my mouth seemed hard-wired to my cleaning supplies- I just kept going.

“You know you’re not supposed to get into mommy’s make up, and make a mess! How many times have I told you not to touch?” I ranted.

He just looked at me. He looked down. He looked around.

“Mommy? What’s that? Did I make that mess too? I’m sorry, Mommy “ He said. Pointing to deep mahogoany drip marks on the cupboard door and tiny ones on the hard wood floor.

The drips were not Noah’s mess. They were mine. “No honey- that’s hair dye- mommy did that accidently.” (NEVER dye your hair in a room with hardwood.- fyi)

I continued scrubbing.

“Oh, I love you- even if you made a mess Mommy” Said the mascared little man.

My eyes welled up with tears. Not over the mess- but over the grace. Grace is being loved- even when you make a mess. My anger went out like the tide. Noah was giving me- what he needed. forgiveness, grace.

“I love you too Noah, even if you make a mess. But, you’re staying in time-out until I’m done cleaning.”

Psalm 103:8-14

“The LORD is compassionate and gracious,
slow to anger, abounding in love.
He will not always accuse,
nor will he harbor his anger forever;
he does not treat us as our sins deserve

or repay us according to our iniquities.
For as high as the heavens are above the earth,

so great is his love for those who fear him;
as far as the east is from the west,
so far has he removed our transgressions from us.
As a father has compassion on his children,
so the LORD has compassion on those who fear him;
for he knows how we are formed,

he remembers that we are dust.”

“Dear Lord- I am so glad that you love me- even when I make a mess, I am also so glad to have a little one who loves me- even when my anger gets out of control- thank you Lord- for your mercy and grace, for your love and understanding. Thank you for your reminder of grace, amen”

Double dose today! It’s Tuesday! So- my weekly post is up at Laced With Grace- stop by there to read my post about “Waves” !