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Posts not directly related to my walk with Christ.

Beautiful Messes

| Karen

One day as I was walking in our backyard, my eye caught something bright blue at eye level. If I give you ten guesses, I doubt you’d guess correctly.

What was it? A small porcelain bowl. Complete with a fork and a cheap gray plastic bowl.

Apparently, my youngest son had eaten from these bowls and saw the tree as a convenient way to technically not leave the bowls in the yard but get them out of the way so he could swing (same tree) or play longer.

After two or three rounds of this, when I started to get tired of finding my dishes up in trees, I stopped one day and thought, what a beautiful mess.

See, for a few years we were unable to have children. But that day, again reaching to bring the dishes down from the branch, I thought- this is really a picture of a blessing. I have children. Children who can play outside and eat a snack and reach to that height in the tree. And my sons won’t always do this… they are quickly on a fast track toward growing up.

And so, I took a picture and started an album in my phone called “Beautiful Messes.”

A few times over the past year, I find myself browsing through this album now on my phone, and it gives me such joy. There’s so much evidence of life behind the messy moments. We think somehow we are supposed to have our homes and families all together looking just so, that I am afraid sometimes we wipe away the messes or get frustrated about them before taking a moment to be thankful for what each mess means. I’ll share a few more…

When we just moved in to a new house, surrounded by boxes, but I just wanted to sit in the “sunroom” and look out the window with a cup of coffee… overwhelmed with all the “To Do” but realizing the boxes mean we have more than we need, and a new home is a fresh start to meet new friends.
Muddy shoes by the front door- a daily occurrence at the time. Thankful for growing boys who play hard and don’t let a little mud stop them.
What we came home to one Sunday after getting two new puppies. Took me a little longer to see this one with thankful eyes, but my sons had wanted dogs for years and we were finally able to get some. They have been such great companions for the boys and no longer take the stuffing out of pillows, though they still chew an occasional shoe that’s left on the floor.

“He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end.”
‭‭Ecclesiastes‬ ‭3:11‬

Weekly Report

| Karen

The day we picked up our foster children, I realized this was not at all like the training.  Sure, I’d finished the courses, gone through the inspections – but when those two living, breathing children came home with us, my heart was not fully equipped to handle it.  I texted and emailed my case worker every detail, wanting to make sure I was doing everything right.  I expressed concern that certain behaviors meant they had experienced certain negative things in the past, and I also shared positives, good things I saw in the children, promising behaviors and things that worked well.  Finally I decided I should type up a full weekly report.  It felt so strange to care for children when I’d never met their parents, didn’t have a checklist from parents that would let me know their bedtime routine, favorite stories, food allergies, likes and dislikes… I wanted the reassurance of knowing someone else shared responsibility over these children’s lives too, not just me and my husband.  But the case worker said no, don’t send her a weekly report.

Lately I’ve been thinking, what if I had to send God a weekly report of my interactions with my own children – how well I have served them, listened to them without distraction, put them before my work (while still getting work done), corrected them in love when necessary, encouraged them, shown them mercy, modeled a selfless life of giving, led by example.  Of course, God’s with us every moment so He already knows, but if I saw it in written form at the end of each week, in black and white, would I be pleased?  Would God?  Yet too often I forget that my children are ultimately His, as if they are on loan to me for a short while.  Lord, help me honor You in every little way I live in front of my children this week and each week… because I know they are watching, and I want to honor You.

Simple

| Karen

This time of year, we are surrounded by big plans. Plans to exercise, diet, pay off debt, clean, do more, be more… And honestly, it’s exhausting. The mindset of taking on a whole new year at once, when I’m struggling to not worry about how I will accomplish all that’s due just next week.

The longer I live this life, the more convinced I am that its beauty and depth lie in the simple things. Though we make big plans, all we have is this moment. This breath. This day.

When I pry my mind off tomorrow (or this week or this year) and back to today, I find myself taking care to speak with less rush to my children, to appreciate a warm house on a cold day, to converse with an elderly gentleman while we wait for our carry-out lunches, and to savor a simple meal shared with family.

Though I have much about myself I’d like to fix with a New Years’ Resolution, I know that my own efforts will not make it past March. So for now I’m sticking with a simple plan instead.

Last year, at our pastor’s prompting, I asked God to give me a single word that was His goal for me in 2017. He did, as well as a single word to pray for my husband and sons individually. They each knew what I was praying for, and we could all see God doing great work in answering those prayers throughout the year.

This year, I asked God to give me a simple Bible verse to pray- one for myself, one for my hubby and each son. And my plan is this- simply pray and obey, each “today” that I’m given. And trust that God will be faithful to answer and develop in each of us what He most wants for us in 2018.

Raining Stink Bugs

| Karen

Stepping outside this morning into the rain on the way to church, I grabbed two oversized golf umbrellas that had been sitting outside since Hurricane Irma came through. We parked, and my boys both called “dibs” for having an umbrella to themselves. Halfway through a lecture about being willing to share the umbrella with their mother, I successfully wrestled one umbrella open and into position, then felt something drop onto my head.

It didn’t feel like rain- felt a bit heavier, drier, and leggier-

A stink bug.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I love bugs. I’ve caught a few of these bugs in the house lately and let them back outside so they don’t die indoors.

Glad that I didn’t make a fool of myself (yet) by screaming in the church parking lot, I glanced up into the umbrella and saw another… and another… and another. Nine stink bugs moving all around on the inside of the umbrella.

Just then my oldest son wrestled open his umbrella- and also was rained on by stink bugs.

Seeing a minuscule patch of grass between all the tightly packed cars, I walked my heels and dress right over there and proceeded to try to shake the stink bugs out onto the grass. I knew it wasn’t their ideal habitat, but I had little choice in the way of green places at the moment.

The stink bugs refused to budge, despite my repeated attempts to dislodge them.

By now, another lady had pulled and parked near me, and we were both doing our best to pretend we didn’t see each other. I acted like ladies in dresses shaking dry umbrellas over grass was a normal Sunday affair, nothing to look at here. She avoided eye contact and proceeded on her merry way.

At this point, getting wetter by the minute, I made an executive decision. It was better to get rained on with rain than with stink bugs. My boys agreed more quickly than I expected, so we gently closed up our umbrellas, still full of stink bugs, and placed them carefully back into the car. This wasn’t ideal, but my only other options were leaving the umbrellas in the grass to blow away or take them inside the church and spread the love, which didn’t seem like a loving choice either.

After 3 hours of church services and 11 minutes of walking in the rain (for which we were strangely ok with), I got home without any bugs flying at me while driving and successfully opened the umbrellas outdoors, leaving the bugs to hopefully find a new home other than the umbrellas.

Why do I share all of this? I thought about applying some deep spiritual principle. Something about the ups and downs of life and how even while preparing to avoid one type of rainy season, we often find ourselves right in the midst of another “stinkier” season. But really, I just wanted to share today’s laugh with you. I have successfully laughed at least once per day for the past 18 days in a row- I know, because I’m counting, and praying for daily opportunities to laugh- because I think sometimes in this world of money troubles, sickness, worries, and stress we forget to just laugh. To enjoy this day that God has made.

Maybe you should ask God to help you laugh daily too- who knows in what creative way He will answer?

No Longer Aimless

| Karen

During my military training days (I served as an Army Nurse after college), I could never pass Night Land Navigation.  I had to find 5 separate points (small boards nailed to trees), write down the codes, and return to be ‘graded’ on my answers.  I had nothing but a compass, a red lens flashlight, a few hours of darkness, and a poorly photocopied map with concentric circles representing hills.  By the time I walked several hundred yards up and down those hills, no target would be there.  I would walk in ever-widening circles trying to find the nearest target.  This proved successful at finding the wrong point, setting all my following targets off course.

Lately, God convicted me that I have also been aimless when it comes to my own family.  I can plot out a great plan for each day, use time management well to determine how long it will take me to get to the desired goal, and go to bed at night having accomplished several items on my “To Do” list.  Yet this is like walking in circles, and I’m likely to miss the target that Christ has called me to as a mother.

As I prayed about this, God laid two things on my heart:  A purposeful prayer and an annual target.

Purposeful Prayer:  Only God knows the plans He has for my family, so I asked Him to show me how to pray for my own family.  Just then, my familiar radio station faded out, and I tuned to a talk show about how God designed men with a need for adventure.  Since 3 of the 4 members in my family are men (well, 4- and 6- year old men), I included this in my prayer theme:  “Here we are, God.  Use us in Your biggest adventures.  For Your glory.”  I must confess this is a hard thing for a mother to pray – I can see myself wanting to keep my boys close even after they are grown.  Yet God laid this prayer on my heart, and it is crucial for me to give my boys completely to God for Him to fulfill His purpose in their lives – whatever God calls them to do.  The rest of my family prayer theme comes from Ephesians 6, about the full armor of God.  My boys love this part too since they are into all things ‘superhero’ these days.

Annual Target:  Daniel and I agreed that, by this time next year, we want our children to know God better and be more aware of how they can help others in need.  Instead of aiming only for a distant target, we set up some checkpoints along the way to help us stay on track.  These include less TV time (daily), family devotions (weekly), a Bible memory verse (monthly), and a family service project (monthly).  Just like my ‘performance improvement’ job at work, each year there will be goals that we meet fully, meet partially, or don’t meet at all.  But at least we are taking steps toward reaching a goal instead of living aimlessly each day.

Anyone with little kids knows how chaotic family devotion times can be – during our own first attempt, Logan spilled a full glass of milk on the couch while Caleb decided that was his chance to wolf down 5 freshly baked cookies in 5 seconds.  I admire my Dad for consistently leading family devotions for all 4 of us kids despite the occasional chaos and protests.  He thought no one was listening, but some of the lessons he taught have continued to come to mind several times over the years.

We also did our first family ministry project – again, nothing difficult, just donating the boys’ old booster seats to the local battered women’s shelter because our Sunday School class mentioned this as a need.  We just took the boys along and talked about what we were doing and why.  It didn’t take long.  It didn’t cost any money.  But I hope the boys recognize that there are those around us that we can help, even in small ways.

Pray for us.  Hold us accountable.  Ask us about the status of these goals.  Satan doesn’t want us to have family devotions or learn Bible verses.  Just like dieting or exercising, there will be times when we reach our goals and times we do not.  But we are asking God for His help so that we are no longer an aimless family.  I would challenge you to do the same – ask God to give you a prayer theme for your family, and some small goals you can meet so that next year you see a difference in your own family’s walk with God.

Halloween in May

| Karen

Our son Logan (4) dressed himself for church this morning in a Wolverine Halloween costume complete with 3-inch-thick chest muscles and a perfect 6-pack of abs.  The color s bright yellow with blue shoulder flares.  We were headed to a new church where Daniel was the guest worship leader.  What would you do?

I agreed that Logan could wear the costume on the long drive to church; however, I had to take off the “muscles” so his seatbelt fit securely.  He was devastated.  Occasionally he can be stubborn or even defiant, but today was different.  He was insecure.  The thought of trying a new church again made him “need” those muscles – “need” that disguise.  So we agreed to let him wear it into church.

Since we arrived one minute ahead of schedule, Daniel had to run into church while I got the boys to their classes.  Uncertain which side entrance would usher us unnoticed into the children’s building, I cautiously stepped across the manicured lawns in my heels, Wolverine clinging tightly to my hand.

Unfortunately, just as we reached the sidewalk, the entrance to the 165-year-old building opened, and the early service attenders engulfed us.  At first I felt too embarrassed to look anyone in the eye.  But I finally mustered up my courage and felt pleasantly surprised as all of the church members greeted Logan with enthusiasm.  “Wow, don’t you have big muscles?”  they asked.  “Tell me about who you are today.”  Logan opened up immediately, proud to show off his strength and boast in his superhero qualities.

In Sunday School, I was greeted with a warm smile and, “So YOU’RE the one with the Wolverine son!”

I cannot tell you how much this church’s acceptance of my son – my whole family – meant today.  They could have easily lectured me on the inappropriateness of my son wearing a Halloween costume to church; they could have “tsk tsk’d” me and shook their heads behind my back.  Instead, they showed Christ’s acceptance of children, as Jesus said, “Let the little children come to Me, and do not hinder them…” – even if they are wearing a Halloween costume in May.

We never know what others are going through, or how a small courtesy can speak volumes of love.  I thank God for these ‘small’ blessings, and I pray that I will always show these ‘small’ kindnesses to others so they know how Jesus loves and accepts them too.

A Death on Resurrection Day

| Karen

Today was tough.  I’m glad it’s nearly over.  Our last day at our church proved harder than expected, but today’s grief goes even deeper.  Today I remember my cousin Melissa who was murdered last Easter by her former fiancee.  She was the same age that I am now.  What bothers me so much is that I shook hands with her murderer – I had eaten a family dinner with him, talked about military experience with him – he seemed like a clean cut decent guy.  However, there was a nagging feeling in my spirit.  I remember thinking of telling Melissa, “He doesn’t respect you.”  But I said nothing.  I did not know he was abusing her – in horrible ways.

There is such a stigma against abused women.  I have heard so many people say, “Why don’t they just leave?”  Well, Melissa did.  But she went back last Easter for just a little bit – and he shot her.

You can’t look at a woman and know if she is being abused.  She is there – in every race, every socioeconomic level, every educational level.  She is there behind the smile, behind the outgoing personality.  She may be one of your acquaintances – even a close friend.  I am more watchful now – and bolder to ask, “is anyone hurting you?”

She had a beautiful memorial service outdoors near a river.  There were Love Bugs surrounding us – I have never seen so many at once.  I wrote the poem below as I was riding home afterwards.

 

“Melissa”

Disaster – then grief- how a second can change

Our every day lives into unspeakable pain

The grief hit at once, but somehow I still

Did not believe that it could be real

 

I cried out in anger, asking God why

I searched the Scriptures:  ‘Why did she have to die?’

‘Why didn’t You stop it?’ I asked God, Who replied

“I warned her, my child, not to go back this time.”

 

I try to be strong, to quote Scripture, and pray

Yet inside I’m struggling through this terrible day

They say there’s a reason, that God’s got a plan

But today the pain is greater than my soul can comprehend

 

In the midst of it all, there are plans to be made

No time allowed for grief to first fade

Who, what, and when can be answered with ease

The ‘why’ still remains and haunts even my dreams

 

As days go by, the grief softens, but then

It suddenly re-emerges, and I never know when

The tears start to fall, my face to contort

The volcano of sobs melts my defensive fort

 

It still is not real until the funeral day

Then all my denial is melted away

Maybe God gives us denial to soften the blows

And help us to cope through disaster’s first throws

 

I eagerly listen to the preacher’s sure words

Surely he has an answer – but none that I heard

I did hear encouragement, even had a soft laugh

As he told of childhood stories and her chosen path

 

She loved the outdoors, enjoyed all God had made

For He surrounded her with beauty – in multiple ways

Sunset and rivers, family hugs,

Laughter and tears, and even Love Bugs

 

The grief is not over, I will never know why

But I believe Granddad’s holding her high in the sky

Maybe her view of the sunrise is more brilliant than ever

As her tears have been dried by our ever-close Savior

 

 

While our pain remains, and will to the end

One day we will see her and all our heavenly friends

‘Cause none of us know the length of our days

But each one is precious – and yes, Love remains.

 

The Tear-Stained Piano

| Karen

I vividly remember staring at my mom while tears flowed silently down her face.  She sat at our piano singing the old hymn “Count Your Blessings.” How can she sing THAT song?  I thought, completely confused.  The church just hurt her deeply – she should be singing an angry song.

Only 12 years old, I understood little about the details but all about the depth of my mom’s pain.  I felt it too.  Let me rewind.

When I was 9, my parents decided to help start a little missionary church near Atlanta.  As we pulled up to the new church for the first time, Mom cautiously explained that this church met in a home and only had 25 members so far.  “Our family will make it 30!”  I exclaimed.  Mom and Dad smiled.  I could sense their excitement.

Over the next 3 years, our church grew.  We moved from a home to a school to a shared church building.  I never knew a church could become so close; I knew everyone’s name, and they knew me.  I watched in amazement as the worship leader’s wife used sign language with the songs.  Although I had to ask my parents what she was doing with her hands, I did not need to ask about the expression on her face.  She was obviously in love with Jesus.

Then I began to sense currents of tension.  One couple was unhappy. The complaints became louder, then one day Dad sat us down with bad news written all over his face.  “Our pastor is leaving,” he said.  “And the church decided to dissolve instead of find a new pastor.”  In the first 20 seconds, I went from disbelief to anger to a defiant wall around my heart:  I would never let a church hurt me again.  (By the way, this pastor and I are still friends, and God is using him in awesome ways through a new ministry now – God may have been calling him away regardless of the tension in the church, this is merely my perception at the age of 12).

Yet mom sang, “Count your many blessings see what God has done.”  What was there to be thankful for?  If the church stood for God, wasn’t it God Himself who had hurt us so much?  I would have dismissed the whole scene, but her sincerity turned my confusion into intrigue.  It was obvious mom wasn’t just putting on a show.  Kids know the true lessons their parents are teaching.  When I asked her about it, I don’t remember the words she used, but I remember the message:  There’s always something to be thankful for, and God is still worthy of praise even during the hardest of times.

Easter Sunday will be my husband’s last day as worship leader in our current church; I admire him for staying until the worship leader chosen by the Search Committee starts, which will be the following Sunday.  I am still hurt over the situation itself.  Yet God often brings to mind the song “Praise You in This Storm” by Casting Crowns (lyrics below) – at times I find myself singing it around my kids without even realizing it.  I thank my mom for her godly example; my prayer is that I will leave the same impression of thankfulness in the memories of my own children.  I can teach my boys that no matter what pain life brings, God is still worthy of my praise.

Some blessings I can “count” today:

  • I’m thankful for those in my church who reached out to me and helped me get past my fear of being hurt to truly “belong” to my church.
  • I’m thankful that I have wonderful friends here in my church – we have laughed and cried together, met for Bible study, baby showers, and birthday parties.
  • I’m thankful that it is not God’s rejection we face, only man’s.
  • I’m thankful that I can be “confident of this, that He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 1:6)

Jesus, thank You for the godly example of my mom teaching me to count my blessings even while tears are streaming down my face.  Help me be a godly example to my children and to others who are watching to see how we will handle this hurt.  Let my family continue to praise You, even in the midst of this storm.

 

Excerpt from “Praise You In This Storm” by Casting Crowns

  • I was sure by now God You would have reached down,
  • And wiped our tears away, Stepped in and saved the day,
  • But once again, I say “Amen”, and it’s still raining
  • As the thunder rolls, I barely hear Your whisper through the rain, “I’m with you.“
  • And as Your mercy falls, I raise my hands and praise the God who gives, And takes away
  • And I’ll praise You in this storm, And I will lift my hands
  • For You are who You are, No matter where I am
  • And every tear I’ve cried, You hold in Your hand
  • You never left my side
  • And though my heart is torn
  • I will praise You in this storm

Wrinkles

| Karen

I saw my 4-year old son Logan closely inspecting his arms a few days ago.  I asked what he was looking for, and he said, “I’m worried that I’m getting wrinkles.”  I smiled, but his expression still showed extreme concern.  I thought, “How do I explain to him that he doesn’t need to worry about that?  Sure, it may happen one day, but even if it does, worrying won’t keep wrinkles away.”

God seemed to whisper that He felt the same way too – how can He explain to me that I don’t need to worry?  He has said it many ways:  “Do not worry about your life….” (Matthew 6:25), “Do not worry about tomorrow…” (Matthew 6:34).”Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.” (Philippians 4:6).

In fact, most of the things I spend time worrying about never happen.  And things happen that I never even think to worry about, such as going to work without a drop of makeup last week and not realizing it until I had been there for over 2 hours!  🙂

So, in this spirit, I ask God to help me not be anxious as my Dad heads into surgery in a few hours.  Instead, I will pray, “God, please guide the surgeon, let there be no complication or infection, let his pain be managed well, let them get all the cancer out so it doesn’t spread, and help us all not be anxious as we wait.”

I can’t leave out the “with thanksgiving” part in Philippians 4 above –  I started journaling when I was 8 years old, and somewhere along the way, God told me to add “positive points” every day in my journal.  It used to surprise me that I could find things to be thankful for even on the hardest of days.  Yet God has been faithful – not a single day of my life has passed in which I could truly find nothing to be thankful for – even if it was merely the gift of taking another breath.

So today’s positive points are:

1. I got a call yesterday that an “anonymous lady” renewed my gym membership for 6 more months!  I had gone to the gym faithfully for a few years but cancelled my membership when we reduced all expenses to get through this time.  I have a strong suspicions of who this is – THANK YOU if you are reading this blog!

2. We are doing okay through this time – there’s not been a single day in which I had no food to set before my children at dinnertime.  I was worried about this, and so far God is beyond faithful.  THANK YOU God!

3.  I have a close family – not only my immediate family of my wonderful husband and two sons, but my parents and siblings as well.  I admit we may go overboard with birthday parties and such, but we know that we are there for each other.  THANK YOU to God and my family for this!