chasing my miracle

When God Moves

2012-01-15T18:19:00.000-08:00

I spent the afternoon with a bunch of fantastic women. We talked. We laughed. We taught each other. We prayed. I came home 5 hours later. Exhausted. Exhilarated. Excited. God transforms lives. I watched it happen today. I believe it will happen again. I'm glad to be where I am on this journey of life. It's good.

Parenting Awareness - Compassion

2011-12-05T11:26:00.001-08:00

No guarantees that this post will begin a trend of posting. . . life is to be taken as it comes. I did, however, have a thought that has lasted more than two days. Here you have it:

Several years ago we made the decision to have our oldest son change schools. He was not at all happy about the plan, and we spent a summer in relative angst. For the first half of the summer I was trying to convince him that the new school would be great and he would love it. I knew what he did not, that the new school would be a better fit for him personally, academically, and athletically. He couldn't get past the idea of a change - everything new to him, missing his old friends, not sure how things are supposed to happen. . . No amount of brilliant persuasion on my part could convince him that it would be anything other than awful.

Jeff, with some brilliant persuasion of his own, convinced me to lay off the poor kid. He invited me to allow him to take the lead in the conversations, and stay out of it for awhile. He did this ever so gently and in love - and I truly was able to accept it as wisdom, rather than get defensive. Without the daily pressure to conform to my opinion, I watched our son internalize the conversation and deal with his questions. I was impressed to see him open up to the conversation. I watched maturity unfold before my eyes.

And as it did, I was overcome with compassion. Rather than being in such a hurry to have him see things from my perspective, I began to see things from his. My heart ached as I considered how an 8 year old deals with the loss of friendship and the uprooting of all he knows at school. I was able to sit with him in the knowledge of the change without trying to convince him that he was going to like it. I was able to cry with him the week before school as he said through tears, "Mom, I'm not saying it will be bad, I'm just saying it will be hard." As we walked together, I was better able to support him from a place of compassion.

Fast forward 2 1/2 years to this last weekend. Our boy woke up grumpy. He woke up with a chip on his shoulder. He woke up with all the world against him, and especially his mom. Nothing I said was right. Nothing I did could soothe. It was going to be one of those days. I could feel the angst start to rise in me as I wrestled with the recurring problem - my son was so exceptionally emotional that when once this spiral began, it would take a miracle to pull out of it. No amount of brilliant persuasion on my part could convince him that he has a choice in the matter and doesn't have to stay miserable all day. I've witnessed what I see as a tendency to not see things in the light of reality. To blow things out of proportion. To misread what someone else says or does. To take offense easily. Basically, to be 10 and human. But that's beside the point.

The point is, it was going to be a long day, and I was already feeling the inner stress start to boil in my gut. Taking a quick time-out in my bedroom, long enough to throw an arrow prayer to God, I sensed a nudge in my spirit, "Jennifer, don't go down this road. Don't let his misery make you miserable. Bring it to me." Hmmm, how do I do that? "God, I'm sad. I'm sad that my son can't see clearly right now. I'm not actually angry at him, and it's not my job to convince him to see things differently. So, my day doesn't have to be ruined, but I am sad for his reality right now."

With a new reality for myself, and a sense of release from needing to control the reality of my child, I re-engaged in the day. The lights came on and suddenly I was filled with. . . compassion. In ceasing to try to get my child to see my point of view, I began to see his. AND, with rapid clarity I was deeply aware that he and I are not so different. See, there I days that I wake up grumpy. I wake up with a chip on my shoulder. I wake up with all the world against me and nothing anyone says can soothe. Now, I'm 39 years old and I've developed some skills at hiding this kind of mood. But the truth is, when I feel like this, I feel really crummy inside. I dislike how it feels. I want someone or something to make me feel better!!

When I began to think of my son's funk in light of my own funkiness, it helped me to walk alongside him. As a mature adult, I've developed some skills for moving past this mood. I go out for a walk or a run. I listen to some worship music or play on the piano. I sit down in my comfy chair with my journal and I talk to God about it. It's not always easy. It's not a formula, but I've learned how to look to God to change my perspective. I realized that my son has very few of these skills, he just had a mom trying to convince him that the way he felt wasn't reality and he should just quit blaming everyone and everything for how he felt. No wonder he spirals - he has never been taught how to self-evaluate and decide to change course. He doesn't know how. It's developmental.

Suddenly my day wasn't a battle with my son, it was an opportunity to empathize and allow some healing strategies to rub off on him. Not overt teaching, mind you, subtle suggestions. I invited him to walk with me to the store for milk. I shared with him that I have days that feel rotten to me. I told him I've learned a few tricks for getting past my rotten mood, "Would he like some suggestions?"

"Sure Mom"

A walk, a talk, a hug and a prayer on the front porch.

Did it fix the day for him? No. But he took me up on one of my suggestions and wrote his feelings to God in his journal. I could sense the cloud breaking.

Compassion - when we are stuck in a rut with our kids and they simply can't see things from our perspective, perhaps we could be quicker to put ourselves in position to see things in their perspective.

Giraffe

2011-07-23T23:32:00.001-07:00

So, for many, many years I have identified with giraffes. It's a long story - one I don't have time to wax eloquent on tonight. Suffice it to say that I counseled at a camp that required animal names for the staff. I was tall. Someone said I should be "Giraffe." I had no objection. And that was that.

Except that I worked at the camp for over four summers and there were hundreds of kids in the greater Salem area who knew me as "Giraffe". By the end of my stint there, I had been given giraffes of all shapes and sizes, had an official "favorite" animal, and would forever be identified with this tall, graceful giant.

My friend Miss Marie, on the other hand, wasn't so sure about the giant head and tongue less than a foot from her head!!

We had a great time at Wildlife Safari with our three kids and my nephew. Great day. I recommend it. It's worth the drive. And if you're a Bi-mart member (with your card to show) you get in two for the price of one on Tuesdays.

And I highly recommend the extra $10/person to go on the giraffe "encounter" and feed the giraffes! (and if you have a large group and ask for a discount they just might cut some off the price. I saved $40 on our two encounters just by asking.)

Blessings in disguise

2011-06-14T10:15:00.000-07:00

Ants in the pantry.

That's all. I have a clean pantry for the first time in 5 years.

What about you? Any blessings in disguise lately?

2011-06-07T07:52:00.000-07:00

After ten days in the sun and sand of Hawaii, it's taken ten days to acclimatize myself to Oregon again! Our family had a fantastic time together on Maui with the kids. We snorkeled, swam in the pool, swam in the ocean, boogie boarded, made lots of sandcastles and pretended to be driftwood. (You'd have to ask Titus about that one.) It was so nice to be warm. And I deeply enjoyed and appreciated the different kind of beauty that you see in tropical places. We enjoyed the place and we enjoyed each other. It was great!

Good Question

2011-05-15T21:40:00.000-07:00

A couple months ago I was having a conversation with a leader I deeply respect. This woman is a spiritual director on a Christian college campus, and spends quite a bit of time in mentoring, teaching and discipling young people. In a seminar I was attending she mentioned a question she often asks the people who come to her for prayer or advice. She begins by asking what they have heard from Jesus in their quiet time that week.

The question struck me because it's not a big heavy, "You need to be having your quiet time." It's not a legalistic, "Do this because I said so." It's a reality check. If we want wisdom and help from the Lord, we need to be listening to Him. If we're going to others for prayer and advice, we are admitting our need, and her question points people to Jesus rather than creating a dependence on someone else.

See, if I listen to God regularly, and so I become known as someone with wisdom, people begin to seek me for wisdom. But if I'm truly wise, I will not allow them to establish a dependence on me, but rather, help them see that their true dependence is on God alone. Point them to Jesus.

Do I do a bigger favor to my friends, family and ministry groups if I pour out myself for them and give them my opinions, insights and life-lessons, or if I point them to Jesus and train them to receive their own insights and life-lessons from the Lord?

There are times when, as we do life together, we glean and learn from one another. There are other times when, in teaching settings, it is appropriate for one person to study, glean and share with others what the Holy Spirit has put in their heart. These are good, even great, gifts to the body of Christ. We are called to encourage one another and build each other up, yet we are also admonished that Jesus is the only one who can truly meet our needs.

So let's point each other to Jesus.

What did you hear from Jesus in your quiet time this week?

Hi

2011-05-06T07:59:00.000-07:00

Hi. Just thought I'd check in and say I'm back from the world of no internet. Have been for a couple weeks. No inspiration to blog, however. So, when I'm inspired, I'll meet you back here. Until then, happy blog surfing.

Lent

2011-03-08T21:24:00.000-08:00

I was reminded today, by a friend, that tomorrow begins the 40 day season before Easter that we call, "Lent." I don't always observe this tradition, but this year I'm feeling led to pay a bit more attention to my personal preparation for Easter.

Easter is, after all, an amazing celebration. Yet so often it gets lost amid Spring activities, new clothes, easter egg hunts and the ensuing money counting and candy gathering. It's not that I don't like our traditions, I actually love them. However, over the last few years I have felt more and more that I have been missing an opportunity to deepen my spiritual walk through a more serious focus on this significant Christian remembrance.

So this year I'm going to go through the Lent devotional book that Salem Alliance was handing out at church last weekend. And I think I'm going to give something up. If you're not familiar with the tradition, often Christians will give up something - chocolate, coffee, TV, video games, etc - for the 40 days before Easter. I think of it as a tangible way to focus more on God. I'm not sure why other people do it, but I do it as a discipline that gets my mind off my habits and onto who God is. I often couple this kind of a fast with a prayer. For example, several times when I have fasted, (taken a break) from dessert, I have said this prayer, "Lord, please give us the sweetness of your Spirit." Every time I have a craving for something sweet, I turn it into a prayer.

One friend said that anything we depend on more than God is an idol. So today, as I've been mulling over the idea of what God might be calling me to "give up", I also need to be conscious of the question "What do I depend on?"

So, with no further ado, I'm signing off the internet, again, until after Easter. Why? Because I depend on the internet for company, entertainment, education, friendship, news, processing my thoughts and so much more. Some of my dependence is healthy - like a blog as a good place to process my thoughts - but some is not so healthy - like the 5 times a day I check in on other blogs.

I apologize to those of you who have just found this blog, or who have weathered my other "sabbaticals" - I'll be back. :)

May God bless you with a spiritually significant season of Lent.

On Balance, or not

2011-03-08T12:06:00.000-08:00

So, I had an interesting train of thought the other day. I was thinking about a spiritual conversation with a friend of mine, and there was a piece of what I had said that didn't sit well with my spirit. We were talking about grace and life. How we are given such freedom to live and yet is there still a requirement on us? We have some role in obeying, or pursuing, or being available, or do we? It was in this context that I said, "We have a responsibility." My thought was that we needed to discover the balance between God's grace and our responsibility. It didn't settle right in my soul, however, and that was what found me sitting down with my journal and asking God about it.

I don't do this very often, but here is an unedited excerpt from my journal.

-------------------------------------

March 1, 2011

Galatians 4&5 - Slavery

4:8 - Formerly slaves to those who by nature are not gods. . . weak and miserable principles

5:1 - Freedom - do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery (the whole law)

Matt 11:29-30 "Take my yoke upon you and learn from me. . . rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light."

The yoke of slavery leads to drivenness - the absence of rest because an outside force compels me to action.

Jesus' yoke leads to rest because it is a good fit for me - crafted by a master who loves me and works for my good.

And I get to choose which yoke I wear. Day to day life may appear the same on the outside, at the outset - but flowing out of two very different fountains.

• Looking for the balance between a life of slavery to the law and the life of freedom.

• Looking for balance between drivenness and rest

• Looking for balance between my responsibility and grace.

The trouble with this thinking is that it appears I need equal parts of each to attain "balance" - but the life of slavery, drivenness and thus what I see as "my responsibility" is not just opposite of freedom, rest and grace, they are completely incompatible. It's not balance or knowledge I need, It's Jesus.

Father, open my eyes and heart to your truth in my life, to the structure that is your yoke. I abide in you and submit to the form of the branch. I wait for you - because I'm not sure how to think about my responsibility. Amen

* Jennifer, look at it this way. It's all My responsibility - you are not "responsible" - and I will show you the way to go. Rather than focusing on what you need to do, focus on Me, on My Face, and I will lead you in the way you should go. Amen.

-----------------------------------------

Healing conference

2011-03-06T10:22:00.000-08:00

So, last week My Farmer and I were in Redding, CA for a conference on the healing power of God. I have so many thoughts and layers of learning on the subject that my mind spins trying to figure out which parts to say, and how to say them. Perhaps in the future I will try to take bite-sized portions and turn them into a series of blog posts. For now, I think I'll just give you some bullet point nuggets to give you an overview of what God was teaching and showing me during the week.

• God will give us opportunities in life, we need to be prepared for them.

• So much of prayer has to do with listening to the Holy Spirit and praying what He gives

• Breaking off a spirit of intimidation

• Worshipping in freedom, with banners waving, dancing in joy and honoring God

• Entering a new season in life, requiring a new level, which requires increased filling from God - being intentional about pulling away for time with God

• Living with a grateful heart

• It's o.k. to not be o.k.

• Abiding is a union of infinite love

• In ministry, point others to Jesus, teaching them to go to God for themselves

• "He restores my soul"

• I do not need "balance" in my life, I need Jesus, His Presence

• Forgiveness is a key to walking as God intends

• When we allow God to heal us, He can use our wounds to help others. We become a "wounded healer."

And a few key thoughts:

"You are my child.

I am so proud of you.

You are my child.

I am so pleased with you."

Jesus taught us to pray "Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven." We would not need to pray this if God's will was always perfectly done on earth. So, while I believe 100% in the sovereignty of God, I don't think it means what I thought it meant.

Thoughts on unforgiveness:

As Christians we know that God calls us to forgive others. I think if most of us looked at the hard things in our life - wounds, betrayal, rejection, anger, abuse, etc. . . - we would say that we have forgiven the people involved. We say this because we know we should, and because we've tried to make a choice to forgive. At this conference one of the speakers gave a great list of attitudes and feelings that indicate we are still walking in unforgiveness. I found it very helpful and thought I would pass it along to you.

What can the symptoms of unforgiveness look like?

Ask yourself these questions: Is there a person to whom you tend to. . .

1. Continually rehearse the wounding scenarios connected to this person?

2. Avoid and treat with indifference?

3. Talk to others about in a negative light?

4. Carry a secret wish that they would somehow fail or feel pain?

5. Treat in a passive/aggressive way?

6. Become easily offended by?

As I listened to his explanation of these insightful questions, I found that there was some business I needed to do with God in the area of forgiveness. The speaker also gave us a great, step-by-step training, on walking through true forgiveness. It was simple and powerful and one of the most meaningful sessions of the week for me.

That's it for now. I realize it's a bunch of random thoughts. . . If any of them catch your attention and you'd like to know what I mean by it, feel free to leave a question in the comments. Perhaps that can inspire some more posts to unpack this more fully.

Stillness

2011-02-21T10:14:00.001-08:00

Be still, my soul.

Look to the rock, from which you are hewn.

Consider the lilies of the field.

Our God is an Awesome God.

Hope in the Lord.

Renew your strength.

Embrace worship.

Be still.

Abide.

Rest.

Wait.

These are not easy words in the midst of the world that swirls around us, but they are saving words in a world that would steal and destroy our soul.

Be still and know that I AM GOD. (Psalm 46:10)

What it doesn't say

2011-02-18T12:06:00.001-08:00

This morning I read, again, in Isaiah 40 where it says, ". . . but those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength."

This morning it struck me that there are many things that verse doesn't say. It doesn't say:

Those who -

Get enough sleep

Go to Bible study

Eat well

Make the right choices

Exercise regularly

Have perfect relationships

Read good books

Have "quiet time" every day

Memorize Scripture

Dig deep and try harder

Will renew their strength.

No.

It clearly says, "Those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength."

So, while the world will send you many messages, several of them good, I would like to add my little message to the barrage of information overwhelming your senses today.

Hope in the Lord.

Amen

I'm Needy

2011-02-11T07:33:00.000-08:00

I quake in my skin just typing the title. For years I have perfected the art of hiding my neediness. What will people think of me when they check my blog and see those dreadful words at the top of the page? I. am. needy. Ewww. I recoil at the thought.

Why? Because need, the state of not having it all together, implies weakness. It implies that I'm not enough, that I can't do what it takes to keep myself emotionally, physically, and spiritually sane.

Needy people are also a drain. A bottomless pit. We've all known "them." The people who are so needy that, though we try to love and help them, we can't possibly be enough for them. We can't pour enough into them. It's as if they are a sieve rather than a bucket, and no amount of drops of love, or help, or counsel, or encouragement from me is going to fill them up. I can pour myself out for them today, only to find them empty again tomorrow. I desperately don't want to be perceived as one of "them."

And as Christians we feel guilty even reading that last paragraph, let alone writing it. How dare I imply that a person in need is a drain to me? Did I just say that out loud? That a needy person sucks the life out of me and leaves me wasted and spent?

Yep, I said it, and I'd say it again if I thought you couldn't re-read the last paragraph if you wanted to.

And here's why.

There is this Catch 22 in life, an oxymoron if you will. We need each other - God made us to be in community - but we can't fill each other up. Only God can fill us. So we're born into relationships, and build new ones throughout life, only to find that we're not "enough" for the people we love. They need to be filled by God, and neither you, nor I, are God.

Unfortunately, coming to an accurate understanding of the need for God in every human soul sometimes takes years. In the meantime, we actually think it's our job to fill others, and that we're failing in our job. And when we feel like we're failing, we have to do something to right the ship, and we withdraw from the relationships that suck us dry. What this essentially does is leave the needy person feeling rejected and isolated.

It's a lose-lose cycle. I don't blame the needy person for being needy. Hear me on this, I'm not saying "them" in a judgmental tone, as if they are to blame and are bad. I'm saying "them" in the sense of knowing that there are people in our lives who have deep, persistent needs. I also don't blame the weary soul for withdrawing. Somehow I think the idea of "love" in the situation of unquenchable need is a mystery that escapes us.

So I would like to propose a new way of approaching the subject. Let me illustrate with a story from my life.

In recent months it has become apparent to me that I have been in hiding. Not all of me in hiding, just parts of me. And one part of me that has been the deepest in hiding is my neediness. Upon recollection, I remember hiding it in a secret room when I was about 13. I had enough experience of my neediness being ill-received to realize that if I wanted to have friends, and keep them, I ought to set my need on a shelf and be sure not to gush about it to anyone. I ought to be self-sufficient, confident, capable, and by all means, find something to be very good at.

I discovered I was quick on my feet, joined the track team, established some success, built the confidence to interact positively with my peers, and left my needy, adolescent, multi-rejected self in the secret room. And forgot all about her. Until a few months ago. When I realized that, although I have developed reasonable relational skills on a social level, even on a spiritual level, there was a place in my emotional make-up that had no friends. I had 100's of friends, (739 on facebook, to be exact) and several know me very well, but none knew the vulnerable truth of my neediness and my secret room - because I didn't even know it was there.

In the process of discovering my secret room, entrusting that needy, adolescent, multi-rejected girl to Jesus, and exposing her to a couple of safe and trusted friends, I have discovered why I hid her in the first place. I was afraid of becoming one of "them." You know, the needy people who suck you dry. The ones you cringe when they call, or cross your path, because you know it's the Christian thing to do to love them, but it leaves you wasted and weary. I wanted to be accepted and perceived as whole, so I hid my need.

Jesus invited me out of hiding, but I was so afraid that if I quit hiding my neediness my friends would discover just how uninviting I really am. It's been this process of standing at the door of my secret room, peeking in, realizing how dank and unhealthy it is in there, and choosing to let my need out into the light.

And here is my "a-ha" moment behind this whole, long, rambling post. Just yesterday, in talking with Jeff about a teaching opportunity we had, something began to come clear to me about need. I was like Tumnus the Faun in The Horse and His Boy when a plan begins to take shape in his mind: "The faun was holding both his horns with his hands as if he were trying to keep his head on by them and writhing to and fro as if he had a pain in his inside. 'Don't speak to me, don't speak to me,' said Tumnus. 'I'm thinking, I'm thinking so that I can hardly breathe. Wait, wait, do wait.'"

I sat there with my hands on my head and said to Jeff, "Wait, I'm on the verge of a breakthrough." He said a quick prayer for God to forward whatever idea was being birthed, and sat quietly while I rocked in my chair, trying to clarify in my brain the truth that was rocketing through my soul.

The thought, so simple, that rocked my world is that there is a third option. I had only seen two: either expose my need to others - expecting them to fill me up - and be disappointed and rejected, or hide my deepest needs from others so that I could feel accepted, competent, and worthy. The third option, so simple, that dawned on me: when we expose our deepest needs, entrusting them to God's care and concern, we are able to share them with others without being one of "them." Sharing our needs with others when we have entrusted our hearts to God leads to authenticity, humility, honesty and community rather than the disappointment and broken relationships of expecting others to fill us.

It's a truth I think I've been living for several months now, but it was in the stage of inexplicable mystery - as in, "I don't know why she still likes me after I have been real with her about so much of my neediness, but she does. It's a mystery of God." But now I see - the reason it is safe to share my neediness is because I'm not looking to any friend to "fill" me, but to walk with me.

Perhaps that's what love is - not a calling, requirement or even ability to "fill" another human soul - but rather a desire, persistence and grace to walk alongside while they learn how to entrust their human soul to God. While they find Him Enough to fill their every need. And when we're in relationship with someone who is not willing to work on their pain and subconsciously demands - through expectation, manipulation, hurt feelings, "poor me-isms," blame and ever-recurring crises - that we fill them, it's o.k., and even Christian, to entrust them to the care of God and extricate ourselves from their mess. As a wise teacher once said, "Get our sail out of their wind."

(I feel the need to clarify that by "extricate ourselves from their mess" I'm not talking of divorce. I realize the subject may be intensified in a marriage situation, but in that case we have made a life-long commitment to a person. While it is o.k. and good and right to get ourselves to a healthy place and set appropriate boundaries on manipulation and the like, the question of actually leaving the marriage is a weighty matter. I cannot speak to any specific situation, only say that I believe it is on God's heart for us to fight for our marriages and remain true to our vows, even when it's hard. In the case of spiritual, verbal or emotional abuse, seek the help of someone you trust or a professional counselor.)

So, just in case it's not as clear as I'd like it to be: I'm needy. And that's o.k. I'm learning that I don't have to hide my neediness. I'm also learning that if I share my neediness it doesn't automatically make me a drain on society. I'm learning that if I see my need, admit my need, and entrust my need to God, I can share that need with others and it will benefit us both. I can become the kind of person through whom God blesses others. Even in my place of need.

"My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." 2 Corinthians 12:8

New Post

2011-02-07T08:13:00.000-08:00

Feeling the need for a new post. Not sure what about. Is that officially writers block? Or just uninspired? OK, I just got it. Yes, just like that, it's the way I work. You'd be amazed if you lived inside my brain. Sometimes it's difficult to live with myself when my brain does such a rapid about-face!

Remain in my love.

Thats the title. Remain in my love. Here's the story:

Last Thursday I had a challenging morning. Not a "bad" morning, just a morning that tempted me to wallow in my "stuff" for awhile. You know, the "I've been doing so great lately, why do I feel emotionally crummy again this morning? Am I back to square one? Have I accomplished anything at all? Arrrggghhhh! When will I be over this stage of questioning and introspection?" stuff. A couple things had triggered my emotions, and I was trying hard to stay peaceful, to remember all the things I've learned lately about how to abide in Christ and live in joy and rest, even in the midst of life's messy circumstances.

I was trying hard, but sinking. As Abby and I walked to church for Hearts at Home, (great time with Steve and Trina - gave me lots to think about as a wife and parent) I was internally wrestling with myself, trying to get my emotions in submission to my will. I was losing the wrestling match and my internal frustration was mounting.

Now, let me pause in the story to simply say that this whole scenario is not unusual for me. In case you suspect that I'm one of those people whose outside always matches her inside, I would like to dispel any myth. While I am on a journey to wholeness that makes me more at peace than I used to be, I am also well-practiced in putting on a smile for social situations. My insides can be in turmoil and my brain going a million miles an hour. Generally the social interaction will push my mental gyrations to the side, but give me any space of quietness for reflection, and the engines rev back up and I'm off and running. So heading to church to mingle with others was not a huge hurdle in the state I was in, but part of my angst was the desire to be fully present and not have this sidebar going on inside of me all morning.

That's the state of things as I walked down the sidewalk with Abby last Thursday morning. Into the sunshine and crisp morning air came an interruption to my spiraling thoughts, "Message Received." Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I saw that my friend had sent me a text message. This is a friend who I know listens to God, but I wasn't anticipating a direct message from Him when I flipped open the phone to read the text. It read, "Remain in my love."

Now, honestly, my first thought was, "Remain in your (my friend's) love? No, that's not what she meant." I quickly realized that she must be having some time with the Lord and have sensed His nudging to send me the message just as it read. "Remain in my love."

So quickly it swept over me, "Duh, Of course, and Such grace" all at the same time. It's the message and mantra of the last year of my life. The antidote to my mental meanderings, confusions, wrestling matches and upheavals is God's love. Period. You may remember me blogging about it some time ago. Over and over again, the message has been, I am a Beloved Daughter of God and that is enough. That's my life goal. That gets me through each day.

Remain in my love. Dropped like a gift from the sky into my walk with my daughter last Thursday morning. It's effect was immediate and amazing. I didn't have to keep wrestling in my head. I didn't have to make my emotions submit. I didn't have to figure it all out. All I needed to do was remember myself to be loved, and stay there.

I honestly don't know how to explain how to do that, I just know I'm learning and somehow it makes a difference in each day. Each hour. Each moment. To remain in His love. Perhaps it's simply the awareness of His love that carries me. Perhaps it is a focus to draw my attention away from my struggles. Perhaps it's a combination of both. All I know is that last Thursday morning, I entered the church with my head up, my heart clear, and my emotions ready to offer my unguarded presence to those I would meet.

The difference God's intervention makes is truly amazing. Every day.

And the gift of friends who listen. . . is priceless!

So Long Self

2011-02-03T08:21:00.001-08:00

Just a quick note to share a thought I had on my run yesterday.

So Long Self or More Like Falling in Love? Both are songs. Both are on my playlist. Both have been meaningful to me at some point or another.

So yesterday I'm running and I have the thought - I could focus on trying to focus less on myself (the theme of So Long Self) or I could focus on how much God loves me and what it means to fall in love with Him.

Both, I believe, will have the same results - a more full and rewarding life. One, however, will leave me striving and trying and probably failing, while the other leaves me at peace, with rest in my heart, knowing every day is just a new day to discover God's boundless love.

Guess I'd rather fall in love than beat myself over the head.

So for now, it's all about love, and not so much about working to say goodbye to my self-centered ways.

Just a thought.

Jen :)

Humility and Hope

2011-02-02T09:50:00.000-08:00

James chapter 4 talks a lot about humility: (from verses 6,7,10,12, and 15) "God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble, Submit yourselves, then, to God. Humble yourselves before the Lord, do not slander one another, who are you to judge your neighbor? You boast and brag. All such boasting is evil." This last phrase is said in context of those who are planning ahead.

What?! Planning ahead? "Now listen, you who say, 'Today or tomorrow we will go to this or that city, spend a year there, carry on business and make money.' Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes. Instead, you ought to say, 'If it is the Lord's will, we will live and do this or that.' As it is, you boast and brag. All such boasting is evil. Anyone, then, who knows the good he ought to do and doesn't do it, sins." Hebrews 4:13-17

These are tough words. "If it's the Lord's will" are easy enough words to preface any statement, but is our heart truly in the place where our plans are held in an open hand? Held in a place where God has permission to mess with them?

It takes humility to walk this life with both wisdom, and surrender. To know yourself well enough to make a plan for the future, but hold it in an open hand - willing for God to change the plan as He sees fit.

It takes humility to do life with others and not be judgmental of the choices they make. To release them to God's love and not try to fix them. To be o.k. with someone else in my life not being o.k. It takes humility to have friends or family members who fail. Somehow we think it's a reflection of ourselves.

Humility, as I've been told, is not thinking less of myself, but thinking of myself less. Getting me out of the mix. Doing life from a standpoint of, "Here's what I think, and I could be wrong." Or, "Here's my opinion, what is yours?" Or, "I would like to do it this way, but I'm open to change." Holding loosely to our "rights" and tightly to love.

The other day I was reading all this and I was struggling with the "Do not plan ahead" stuff. I'm in a season of life where I sense the Spring Breeze blowing and I believe things are changing. Growing. Being made new. So to read this I was feeling a bit set down. Discouraged. As if God didn't want me dreaming.

Then I read in Hebrews 11:1 "Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see." Followers of Jesus are called to faith, and if faith is being sure of what we hope for, then hope is an essential part of the believers life. Of our inheritance. It is ours to hope, to dream, to believe for good things.

So were is the line between humility and hope? Isn't hope, undiluted, expressed, lived out and little presumptuous? I mean, let's be real here, when you meet someone who is "full of faith" don't you sometimes wonder if they're really as connected to God as they think? Do you ever wonder if it was faith you saw in them, or just a deep, well expressed desire? Do you ever hesitate to express a hope you have because you're afraid someone will think that of you? "Oh my, isn't it a bit presumptuous of her to dream of ______________?"

Maybe I'm not making much sense. Maybe I'm only exposing my idiosyncrasies. Or maybe I'm onto something. :) Do we, as humans, struggle with this line between humility and hope? I'm just wondering. And I think, the other day, I caught a glimpse of the free space that links the two.

Romans 15:13, "May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit."

"As you trust in Him. . . " I think that's the line. The key. The answer to the question I'm struggling to put into words. Hope is our heritage. It's in the DNA of every Christ-follower. Without hope, life is dull, wearying and depressing. With hope, life is full, engaging and alive. The antidote to presumption is not the absence of hope, it's the presence of Trust. My life, entrusted to a God who wants my good. When I dream, I dream with God. When I hope, I hope in what He has for me. When my plans change, I entrust my desires to Him. When my plans are changed for me, I still entrust my life and desires to him.

We are called to humility - to holding our lives in an open hand, making allowances for our weaknesses, admitting where we need help - and we are called to HOPE

Why no Comments

2011-01-29T09:55:00.000-08:00

A friend asked me today, via facebook, why you can't leave comments on this blog anymore. I know I mentioned it briefly months ago, but thought other readers might benefit from a current explanation of why I disabled the comments. So here is the answer I gave her:

------------------------------

Hi friend - Back in May when I took my hiatus from everything electronic, I was trying to get a grip on my time management. In August when I took a break from blogging, I was trying to get a grip on my motives and relationships.

I had found that I was checking my blog umpteen times a day to see if anyone had commented on a recent post. And they rarely had. Then I was disappointed with my friends. Then I was frustrated with myself for being disappointed.

Bottom line, I was looking to my blog for relational interaction and personal affirmation. I wanted people to reply so that I knew they liked me. And this, I discovered, is not a good way to do life.

So, God lead me to quit blogging for a time, until I could get my motives in check, my affirmation from Him, and personal relationships growing offline. As I took that journey, I missed blogging. I missed processing my thoughts and life lessons in writing. I missed the outlet to share what God was teaching me.

And even though part of blogging had become unhealthy for me, I also knew there was good coming out of the blog as God was using it as an avenue for sharing and teaching.

So I was hanging out with a friend and she said, "What if you disabled comments?" I first thought, "No, I just need to get my life and heart together." And then I realized it was a brilliant idea. If people couldn't comment, then I couldn't be looking to their comments to affirm me and validate me.

So God and I struck a compromise. I could start blogging again if I disabled comments and deleted the bar with all the connections to other blogs. Both of those measures have saved me considerable amount of time on the internet, and by doing so, God gave me permission to start writing again.

Lately, I've been tempted to turn comments back on. I feel like I'm in a different place relationally and emotionally, and I wouldn't be looking for the blog to meet my needs for affirmation and friendship. . . but honestly I've been a little scared to discover I'm wrong and still dependent on comments to make me feel good about myself.

That's probably a longer answer than you were looking for, but it's the whole story.

Love you - Jen :)

When you catch a glimpse of a lie

2011-01-28T08:34:00.000-08:00

(editor's note: this is a long one, grab your coffee first!)

"When (the devil) lies, he speaks his native language, for he is a liar and the father of lies." John 8:44

I know I have an enemy who lies to my soul. I am well aware that God's enemy, Satan, the devil, is my enemy as well. I know he would like nothing more than to separate me from God's love. I don't know WHY he hates, but he hates everything good and righteous and beautiful. Perhaps because he failed in his battle to be the supreme power, he now can't stand to see the Ultimate Supreme Power love weaklings like me. Perhaps it's repulsive to him to see how humility, grace and mercy have accomplished more for God's kingdom than brute force ever could.

I don't know why he hates and lies, but hate and lie he does - and we bear the brunt of living on this planet shadowed by his presence and minions. So when I say I have an enemy who lies to my soul, I'm saying that there is an evil force - be it the devil or demons - which fires fiery darts of doubt, accusation, confusion, condemnation, criticism, inferiority, insecurity, pride, judgment, and all manner of ugly, evil thoughts and emotions into my heart and mind.

On the other hand, there are thought patterns, ongoing emotions and personality characteristics that are just part of who I am. There is no lie involved, I'm just aware of how I process life. How I notice things. How I internalize things. What makes me tick. What makes me, me. I've grown quite accustomed to these features - whether emotional, spiritual, mental - and they are just part of how I do life.

Every now and then, there comes this moment when a light shines on something I've thought was just a part of who I am. Something I've lived with, prayed about, wrestled with and accepted as part of me for years. This bright light passes over it, and I see something different. I see the earmarks of my enemy, the one who lies to me. And I'm astounded to realize that what I thought I knew, what I had come to believe about myself and the world around me, was truly just a smoke-screen. An accusation. To put it plainly, a lie.

I had a moment like that yesterday. I was talking with a mentor/friend of mine, confessing what I believed to be a critical spirit. There is an area of my life that I often, if not always, have a running mental dialogue about what is happening, how it's affecting the people around, what I would say and do different - in short, I notice the things that I sense need improvement. As I shared that with my friend, her response became the bright light that exposed a glimpse of the lie. Her insightful awareness rocked my understanding. She pointed out that I'm a leader with clear communication skills and a bent for putting things to right. When I'm noticing areas for improvement, it's because God wired me to notice those things. It's what makes me, Me. Several times my mentor/friend used the word "analytical" as opposed to the word "critical".

For years I have struggled in these situations because as soon as my mental dialogue starts, I jump in with words like, "Jennifer, don't be judgmental." or "There's that critical spirit popping up again." or "Why do I always respond like this? Am I really so small as to need to tear this person/situation down?!" Lately I have been literally asking the question, "Which part of this mental dialogue comes from honest discernment, and which part is because I am being a brat?"

It dawned on me late yesterday afternoon, that by-and-large I am not a brat. That's not who I am. It's not how I function. It's not true. It's a lie. A lie I had lived with for so long that I thought it was just part of my personality to be critical of others in leadership. The truth is that God has made me to be analytical in certain situations, because He has called me to be a leader in those types of situations. It's also true that I need to take my analytical thoughts to Him and submit them humbly to His guidance - or they could become criticism - but they are not, on the outset, bad or wrong. I need to notice and be aware of my heart and my mind, but the condemnation of my thoughts, and the accusation of having a critical spirit are actually, I believe, lies from my enemy, the father of lies.

Wow, what do you do when you catch a glimpse of a lie and it totally rocks what you've thought all along? How do you think about that? How do you re-train your mind to see the truth in this instance? How can you adequately rejoice the passing of something you wrestled with for so long, that is now a rapidly disappearing vapor?

Oh Lord, for more revelation of the lies in our lives, that we might walk in the pure light of your immense Love. Or perhaps, the prayer is for more revelation of Your love in our lives, that we might more quickly recognize the lies of our enemy.

Laced with Grace

2011-01-27T12:58:00.000-08:00

I ran across a familiar passage of scripture last Friday, but something jumped out at me a new way. I love it when God grants us glimpses of who He is and what He's doing!

Isaiah 40:29-31, "He gives strength to the weary and increase the power of the weak. Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint."

Do you hear it, do you hear the grace in those lines?

"He gives strength to the weary." Which I take to mean that we will grow weary. He's expecting it of us. There will be times when we are just plain tired.

"Even youths grow tired." So if I'm feeling worn out, I don't have to be so hard on myself. Youth is the most energetic stage of life. So if some youth person grows tired, it's natural for all of us to grow tired.

"Young men stumble and fall." Whoa, you mean this grace applies not just to weariness, but to actual mistakes and troubles? That's good news.

To me, this passage that speaks hope and help, also speaks grace - because it gives us permission to be wherever we are. Yes, we are called to hope in the LORD. Yes, He promises to renew our strength. But too often, as Christ-followers, we get the cart before the horse. We think we're never supposed to get tired, or weary or frustrated or any other number of emotions because we're supposed to trust God. But friends, I'm here to tell you that the horse that pulls our cart is Grace, and we need it in order to move forward.

Facing Fears

2011-01-24T16:55:00.001-08:00

Did you know that some people call Guinea Pigs "Cavis"? I don't really know what scientific name it's from, but the web site that gives me all my information is called "Cavi Care." I call them Piggies. Sometimes Pigeriffics. Abby says, "No Mom, they're Guineas!" Whatever you call them, they were the source of one of my fears.

You know, the irrational one about trimming animals' nails. The fact that guinea pigs need their toenails trimmed was almost a deal-breaker for bringing Snowflake and Charcoal home. I have never liked the idea of putting my delicate skin in the vicinity of sharp claws, not to mention sharp teeth. I mean, really, my experience was with children, and does any child like having their nails clipped? I imagined a wiggling, writhing piggie in my hands, trying to get away and biting at the hand that held him.

I decided I would take them to the vet every 6 weeks or so. My Farmer said he would rather trim them himself than take them to the vet. I decided I would just wait until they were so long I absolutely HAD to do something about it.

So today, I gave those guinea pigs a bath. Over the weekend I mentioned to my Cavi Savvy friend that my pigs really stink. She mentioned that these small rodents need a bath every now and then. Bathe a rodent? Oh my!! It wasn't my favorite idea, but they really did stink.

This morning Abby and I rolled up our sleeves, cleaned out their cage and proceeded to bathe both the piggerifics. I use the term "Abby and I" loosely, as you might imagine. :) So I won't go into all the details of Guinea Pigs freaking out when they get in water, but I will say that at some point in the bathing and drying process, they both were so stunned with this new experience as to be very, very still.

It dawned on me that this "I can't believe what is happening to me" state might be a good time to pull out the nail clippers. After all, if I could catch them while they were in a stupor, I might get out without getting bit or scratched. Abby ran for the clippers. I wrapped Snowflake in a towel, strategically placing the towel between his mouth and my hand, and proceeded to trim his nails. Piece of cake.

You would have thought I had scaled Mt. Rushmore from the sense of accomplishment I felt when I placed my second clean, dry piggie in the the fresh, clean cage. Mission accomplished. And more importantly, I learned that I can do it. I faced my fear.

What else in life might I be procrastinating or prepared to pay someone else to do because I fear the outcome? I question my competence? I don't want to get hurt, or fail, or mess things up? Sometimes my fears are obvious, like small tents and rodent claws. Other times my fears are less obvious, subconscious, subtle, hidden. . . but still impacting my day-to-day choices and relationships. Those are the ones I would like to have the eyes to see and the courage to face. Because, as with my piggie paws, I think I might find that the thing I fear is not as bad as the fear itself.

What am I perpetuating?

2011-01-18T12:42:00.001-08:00

Do you ever feel like your only purpose in life is to perpetuate your own existence? I mean, think about it.

Today, I:

Got out of bed

Prayed

Woke up the kids

Helped Titus get ready for school

Loved Josiah while he got sick

Cleaned up after him

Did dishes

Gathered dirty laundry

Made a large pile of said dirty laundry

Cleaned up the clutter in the living room

Checked e-mail, facebook and the news

Talked through the civil war era with Josiah

(as a part of his homework)

Now it's time for lunch and I head to the kitchen with the thought, "Some days it seems like all I'm really doing at home is perpetuating my own existence." I clean clothes so that we can keep wearing clothes. I do dishes so that we can have clean dishes. I clean up clutter so that we can create more clutter. Jeff goes to work and makes money so that we can afford to wash clothes, do dishes and clean up clutter.

I mean, seriously, if this is all there is to life it's pointless and wrong. I get so caught up in my circles of influence and cycles of life that I feel like a hamster on a wheel. I'm running like crazy, but getting nowhere.

And then God gives me a gift, a thought, like a dew-drop from heaven, a light begins to break and dawn. Yes, I spend an inordinate amount of time on activities that will only have to be re-done in 48 hours. However, I also invest time and energy into people and places and spaces that have personal, spiritual, temporal and eternal impact. When I chat on the phone with a friend and encourage her, I'm also influencing the people in her life who will benefit from the fact that she chatted with a friend and got to process her "stuff". When I teach in a community group at church, sharing ideas and lessons God has taught me, I impact the lives of those in class, as well as people in their sphere-of-influence, who will benefit from the fact that they were encouraged or challenged in class. When I pray for my kids and friends and family, I impact things in the spiritual realm. When I do my best to love on my miracles and raise them to be Christ-following, tender-hearted, self-confident individuals, I'm influencing the next generation and the families they will raise.

So today, while I do dishes and care for my sick son, I'm influencing people and places for years to come. My existence is not limited to my cycle of repetitious tasks, my existence is powerful and fruitful when it intersects the divine destiny God had in mind since before the beginning of time.

Josiah just asked me how he was related to "Mrs. Roth" - a teacher at his school. The answer is that My Farmer and her husband are second cousins. If you track back to the parents of the siblings who had kids who married and had kids to create that relationship, you're talking about 3 generations. It's just a stark reminder to me that my kids will still be in relationships and perpetuating relationships long after I'm gone, and quite frankly, after they're gone.

I don't know about you, but it's helpful for me to remember, every now and then, that my life is not just about the perpetuation of my own existence. What I do today, how I think about myself, the choices I make and the way I act on them, matters.

Pesky Fly

2011-01-12T07:45:00.000-08:00

Abby girl has taken it into her head that flies are an entity to be feared. Alas, flies, as you probably well know, are a part of reality. Mysteriously, we have had several flies in the house lately. I can't quite figure out where they're coming from. First of all, it's winter, aren't they all supposed to be dormant? Second, it's winter, and all my doors and windows are closed.

Setting the mystery of the flies aside, let's turn to the reality of my life with what Abby calls, "Pesky flies." I'll be peacefully playing a game with the boys, making dinner, or sleeping, when my delightful daughter will yell, loudly, "MOMMY, PESKY FLY!!!" The urgency of her tone betrays her fear and we begin the hunt to swat the fly so that we can all return to peace. Last night at dinner Farmer Jeff was a hero - he ate his dinner with one hand while waving his other hand over Abby's plate so that no pesky fly could buzz round or land.

The crisis has been gathering for several days now, and it imploded on me last night at 3:37 - when the cry of "MOMMY, PESKY FLY!!!" shattered my slumber and drew me out into the cold, weary night. Unfortunately for me, Mr. Pesky Fly did not show himself. Being awake at 3:37 also alerted me to another issue that needed dealing with, and while one of our sons showered, I changed sheets and started a load of laundry - all the while watching for Mr. Pesky Fly. Sporadically Abby would yell that she heard him again, and by the time I was done with sheets and shower - having returned young son to his bed - it was quite clear that Abby was not tired. She was hovered under her blanket and petrified that Mr. Pesky was going to crawl in some slight hole of her armor and somehow get her.

So I laid down on her toddler bed with her, making a firm decision to upgrade her to a twin as soon as possible, and remained with her until she appeared sound asleep. However, and you can see this coming if you read between the lines, when I got up from her bed, she awoke to wonder where I was going. So I laid back down on her floor, hoping to make a less obtrusive escape when once she slept again. Eventually there was rhythmic breathing from her bed and I tiptoed back to mine - only to find that it was 23 minutes before my alarm was set to go off. And 10 minutes before my alarm went off, Abby called again, "Momma, I want you."

AAARRRGGGHHHH!! If you do the math, that means I laid in my own bed for 13 minutes between 3:37 and 5:20 this morning. Pesky flies have got to go - I'm on a fly swatter wielding rampage. Watch out if you're small, black, winged and in my house, today's your last day because I am sleeping tonight!

p.s. When I read on facebook that my friends took their baby to the hospital in the night and she is admitted with RSV, it made me feel less sorry for myself and my night. God bless you guys!!

Do over, Please

2011-01-07T10:40:00.000-08:00

So, I have an on-again/off-again relationship with my bed. I love my bed. I love being in my bed. I love staying in my bed. As a matter of fact, in the mornings, I would much rather stay in my bed than get out of it. Just sinking into the soft warmth and ignoring the fact that there is a cold, dark morning awaiting me.

However, at night time, when the house is quiet and all the kids are asleep, I'm not eager to get in my bed. It just seems like such a perfect time for some alone time. Alone with my thoughts. Alone with my chores if I choose. Alone with Facebook, just for the fun of it. The only problem in this nightly bed-resistance is that it prolongs my bed-affection in the morning. Which, in turn, can create problems for getting the boys up and off to school on time.

Last night was no exception, and while I was 100% ready for bed by 10:10, with opportunity to get mega-sleep, I chose to send two more e-mails. Ahhh, the fateful decision to open the computer after it was put to sleep for the night! I should know better. Really, I should!

The rest is history. If you were on facebook at 11:00 last night you know I was there too. Uhgg. That was followed by 45 more minutes of surfing the internet. Bedtime: 11:45. This morning was so painful. The boys go to school early, so I have to get up early, and today when my alarm went off, I was having a full-on case of bed-affection! As well as a full-on case of self-kicking. I hate it when I do that - stay up too late and rob from today what could have been a gift for today.

I wanted a do-over.

Not expecting that He would be very sympathetic to my poor plight, seeing how it was my own fault and all, I asked God if He might redeem my day, even though I'm the one who shot it in the foot before it even began. I wasn't sure what "redemption" of my day might look like, but I asked anyway.

So I rolled out of bed at 6:15, got the boys out the door on time with Jeff (7:20ish) and sat down in my cozy purple chair with my warm soft blankets and tried to read my Bible. I was a definite nodder, however, and I finally allowed myself to kick back and take a little snooze. Two unusual things happened next. First, Abby slept later than usual. And second, when she woke up, she allowed me to keep snoozing. I had no sense of how long I had been in the chair when our upstairs neighbor came down to leave for work, and I discovered it was 9:30.

As I slowly came more and more awake, a smile started in my soul and spread over my face. Even though I didn't deserve it, God had redeemed my day. He gifted me with two extra hours of sleep to make up for the two I wasted last night.

Not sure if there are theological ramifications for my interpretation of this morning's events. . . but I personally feel as though God smiled on me and I'm ready to roll. :)

Receptors

2011-01-06T07:55:00.000-08:00

I'm not very tech savvy. By that I mean, I know how to use technology, but I've never quite understood its inner workings. In 3rd grade I got my only "C" on a project that involved programming a computer. . . and I've never been interested since in how computers do what they do.

However, this morning I had an idea that stretched my imagination and made me think. It was about receptors. Or perhaps the technological items that serve as the receivers of signals have another high-tech name. For now I'm calling them receptors.

To my knowledge, every signal that is sent cross-country or just across the house, needs a receptor. A signal with no TV means no programs tonight. A radio wave with no radio means no music in the car. A phone with no friend is just a chunk of plastic and wires in your hand. And a walkie, with no talkie, is just talking into thin air. When signals are sent, they must have a compatible receptor or there is no communication happening.

So, this morning, My Farmer walked into the kitchen and said, "Hello." A fairly innocent and common way to start the day. But this morning, as opposed to the last month of mornings, I actually had receptors for my husband. I was in a place and position, physically and emotionally, to receive the idea that the man I love had just walked into the kitchen and was greeting me. My heart was warmed, and smile spread across my face and my mind thought, "My, this feels different."

See, just last night as we went to bed we were talking about how I was feeling distant from him. Not mad at him or upset or hurt or offended, just distant. Nothing he had said or done was at fault, it was just fact. He mentioned that he also felt that distance, and he had chalked it up to how sick I've been. Essentially saying, "You haven't really been yourself lately." I think I would have been offended at the inference that I was the one keeping the distance, but it was late and we were tired and he was asleep, me half asleep, before I realized that I never really responded to his thought.

This last month has been a blur for me. School Christmas programs and events, shopping, preparing, family gatherings, shopping, cleaning, My Farmer's 50th, more family gatherings, more shopping, three big days of eating and presents and family and more eating, and then a major crash from some pesky germs that invaded my body. I'm still sniffling as I sit here and type. Let's just say that if My Farmer were to infer that I haven't been myself lately, he would be right.

This morning, however, was a bit different. I woke up with a spring in my spirit, and lightness in my heart, and took 10 minutes before I woke up the boys to sit down with my Bible and journal and say hello to God. It's been quite awhile since I sat in my chair to visit with God, and it was good for my heart and spirit and mind to engage with His Spirit once again.

So when My Farmer walked in the kitchen and I actually felt his greeting and presence, I literally thought, "Oh, receptors. I haven't been receiving his relational connectors because I didn't have any receptors." He was talking with me, helping me, serving me, taking care of our kids, cleaning the house. . . in short, My Farmer is amazing. But I was feeling distant because my receptors had been blocked. For one reason or another - busyness, sickness, tiredness, distractedness - I had not been receiving what he was communicating.

I'm glad my receptors are starting to work again, it feels good to connect with the one I love. And all he said was "hi". How are your receptors functioning today?

K-LOVE - Jason Gray "More Like Falling In Love" LIVE

2011-01-05T12:29:00.000-08:00

So, I'm not a music elitist. By that I mean, I don't have highly formed tastes in regard to lyrical quality, musical style or deep intellectual stimulation. I know what I like when I hear it, and then I listen to it over and over again. Chris Tomlin, Amy Nobles and Ginny Owens have all been recent favorites. Lately, however, I've been in a bit of a lull, needing some new inspiration and not sure where to look. I heard this song a couple times on the radio, and when I googled it I found it was by another artist I like, Jason Gray. Thought I would share it today.

And being the impulsive person that I can sometimes be, I bought the whole album, just for fun. As I've listened to it this morning, several songs have resonated with my spirit. One in particular seems to capture the essence of a journey I've been on lately. It's called Holding the Key.

To describe how it captures an essence, I would have to explain the journey, and I'm not sure I'm ready for the long post that will need to be. So, suffice it to say that I've been learning how to do relationships all over again. I've discovered some things about myself, about the way I do friendship, and about the things I'm afraid of. There are a couple people in my life who have become a safe launching pad for me to walk out, with fear and trembling, a new way of doing friendship. It has both exposed my insecurities, and unveiled deep joy. I sometimes feel scared that I can't really bond in deep friendship, and a sometimes feel giddy with the delight of the knowledge of a girlfriend who knows my heart, reads my texts, and still likes me.

Having some friends who see my neediness and still want to be friends with me has led me to a place of freedom, and that's where this song intersects my life - at the place where I realize that I need people in my life in order to be the woman God created me to be. The chorus says:

We were made with these hearts

Meant to be open

Then we locked them away

Afraid of being broken

But we're given each other to set it free

And you're the one holding the key

So, right now I know who's holding the key for me. Who is holding the key for you?

You can find the full song lyrics here: Holding the Key

Gratitude or Poor Me

2011-01-02T17:21:00.000-08:00

So, after the wild week getting ready for Christmas (think several midnights in a row working on afore-posted stockings) too much sugar (for me AND the kids) and a family cold being passed around, I succumbed to reality on Sunday afternoon and emerged sometime Thursday. The Cold got the upper hand and I went to bed around 8:00pm, four nights in a row. And Monday that was after sleeping most the day. I slept, no joking, until 9:30 most mornings, and it wasn't until Thursday night that I finally couldn't sleep any more. I layed around all week like a slug, and when I tried to get up my head would spin and I would tell Jeff that I still wasn't feeling quite right.

I can see this one of two ways: One way is to say that if I had to be sick, I'm glad it was a week when I didn't have to get the kids back and forth from school, Jeff was able to be home, and the kids had Christmas presents to entertain them. That's the gratitude answer. The other way to look at is that tomorrow my kids return to school after two weeks off and, between preparing for Christmas and recovering from Christmas, I completely missed "vacation!!" That's the "Poor Me" answer.

I'm going with the gratitude answer - - but the poor me crops up every now and then.

And I wonder if there aren't a lot more choices like that in life - choices between gratitude and poor me - that maybe I just don't recognize as clearly. I won't make it a resolution because this isn't a New Year's post, but I hope I lean more toward gratitude than poor me when opportunity arises.

Merry Christmas

2010-12-25T09:54:00.001-08:00

Merry Christmas!

We're off to a great start here - may your day be joyous and rich.

These stockings were my project for the last three days, perhaps I'll blog about the process at some point (it was painful) but I'm exceedingly glad to have these done, and very proud of my limited craftsmanship!!

Jeff asked the kids to give the gift giver a hug. . . . it was a really sweet time!

Joy, Peace, Love, Hope

2010-12-22T07:16:00.001-08:00

So, here are some specific things I loved about the Advent Prayer Path:

It starts in "Christmas Chaos" and then gives an opportunity for reflection on the things that are causing stress and unrest during this season. I found it so good to pause, with the pressures of this season at the forefront of my mind, and simply recognize how stressful it can be. Sometimes I stay so busy that I fail to acknowledge that there are pressures on my heart, mind and spirit that are impacting how I do life during this season. Not only did this open my eyes to the reality of life at Christmas-time, but it then led me in a time to give those cares and worries to God. Giving my heart a good tug and aligning it again with what's truly important.

The scriptures in the booklet give foundation to each station, and lead to the next. I love how in Station one we read about the wise men searching for the star, and station 2 physically has a star above the manger. This gave me an opportunity to talk with my kids about seeking the star - and what it means to be seeking Christ today.

In the center - Station 3 - there are three activities, all of which had significant meaning for me and my kids. The first is a set of blankets, and an encouragement to "clothe yourself in God's love, joy, hope, peace" - to wrap the blanket around and consider what it is to be wrapped in God's promises. Abby and I had a special time at this spot. She at first shrugged her shoulders and didn't want a blanket, yet when I mentioned that it was like wrapping up in God's love, she took a blanket, fully engulfed herself in it, and lay down on the floor - just being still for a moment. Personally, I was touched by the displays highlighting these four words of Advent - hope, peace, joy, love - and reminded of the significance of each. Deep in my heart.

Another activity at station 3 is a corner with little vials of oil. It explains that in scripture oil is used to symbolize three things - God's healing, God's sanctification (calling to be set apart) and God's presence. We (Jeff and I) were able, in the context of the prayer path experience, to anoint each of our children with oil and pray a blessing over them of God's healing, calling and presence in their life. It was a powerful moment for all of us - especially Jeff and I.

There is also place to take communion. The boys understand this and we did it together. For Abby, it provided an opportunity to explain again the role of Christ in salvation, and what His body and blood mean. I have prayed that this would be a year of salvation for Abby, and I felt like this conversation about the communion table was significant.

Finally, the last station opens up to a wall with several scriptures and phrases of who God is, what he does, and who He is to us. In large letters across the wall, one of the word is Immanuel, and the booklet talks through the meaning of "God with us." Also on the wall are small glass star ornaments. Each person is encouraged to take an ornament as a reminder of God with us. I love it when my kids are excited about tokens of remembrance - knowing that in the future they will provide another opportunity for significant conversation.

On the way out, there is a space set apart for response, and a person can write in a journal, paint with watercolors, or just have some personal space. Abby loved the water color table - rounding out our experience with some very age-appropriate blots of color on a piece of paper. :)

Now you know the specifics. It was a great experience for our family this year. If you have a chance, even if it's just between stores as you finish the errands, I think you would be glad that you took some time to stop by.

Salem Alliance

8-8

Today (Wednesday) and tomorrow

Advent Prayer Path

2010-12-20T21:44:00.000-08:00

Merry Christmas! :) I don't have time to do it justice tonight, but I wanted to say that if you have the opportunity to go through the Advent Prayer Path at Salem Alliance, it would be worth the time it takes! I've been through with each of my kids - who each went at a different pace and appreciated different things about it - and I went back on Sunday to spend a few hours as the host and just soak in the atmosphere for myself. It is truly worshipful, eye-opening, and so meaningful. I may have a chance to post some specifics of why I love it - but with the week ramping up I at least wanted to say - go check it out, and take your kids if you're so inclined!

Salem Alliance Church

8:00am to 8:00pm

Every day

Closing for good at 8:00pm on Thursday, the 23rd.

(That leaves Tues, Wed, and Thursday for you to go.)

How do you know?

2010-12-17T15:48:00.000-08:00

"Abby, we're going to the store."

How do you know?

"I need to make lunch."

How do you know?

"The guinea pigs don't like broccoli."

How do you know?

"That's bird poop."

How do you know?

"When someone is spraying the car with a hose, don't roll down the window."

How do you know?

The boys asked "why", the girl asks "How do you know?"

I'm about to pull out my hair.

How do you know?

Say Hello

2010-12-07T08:20:00.000-08:00

Say Hello to the newest additions to our family:

Snowflake, aka: Flake

and Charcoal, aka: Chuck, Coal, Charky

The kids are loving the Guinea Pigs. We're figuring out what they need and how to feed them. We're also working on rearranging the boys' room and building them a great big cage that they can be happy in. Right now this is fun. In six months, will one of you please remind me of that fact?! :)

They did it again

2010-12-06T08:14:00.001-08:00

This weekend has been full and fabulous! My Farmer turned 50 on Friday, so we had a family lunch and he took the kids to the Kroc Center. They had a blast. Saturday I had two speaking engagements. Crazy to do two in one day - but they were both great. One was a women's holiday brunch - beautiful decorations, wonderful food, and a 40 minute message about the gifts that don't look like what we expected and what choice we will make regarding them. The second was with our Community Group at Salem Alliance - more of a discussion format on Ephesians 4:2-4. I enjoyed both opportunities immensely, and was totally beat by the end of the day.

Sunday dawned bright and clear as the day of My Farmer's Birthday party - and open house at our home for about 100 people. We cleaned last minute clutter, prepared food, and awaited the arrival of our first guests. I haven't counted up how many actually came, but from 1-4 there was a steady stream, with a major rush at the start, just after church got out. It was so fun to see so many people come and bless My Farmer. He truly enjoyed the day and had so many good connections with people he loves.

The day ended with a Roth family celebration of all the December birthdays, and an early Christmas gift for my kids - two of Mandy's Guinea Pigs!! (If you don't know Mandy, her family got two "boy" piggies and one got pregnant - now they have 8 piggies, and were happy to give us 2) The kids love the piggies, and seeing their responses made me less dubious of my rash decision to go for pets! :)

In the midst of all this activity, I haven't checked e-mail much. So this morning I sat down to sort out the weekend messages, and I saw a devotional from Friday, December 3rd. And those people from Ransomed Heart Ministries did it again. They posted a thought at JUST the right time for me, and summarized my life in 3 paragraphs.

If you read it, I think you'll see what God has been doing in me - perhaps you as well - over the past year: closing doors I thought I wanted to go through in order to teach me how to draw near to Himself. It's hard and good at the same time.

Happy Monday.

Joy

2010-11-27T11:39:00.000-08:00

I have a post percolating, it's still a bit jumbled in my mind and I may be trying to induce it too soon, but I'm going to give it a whirl. Hope it makes sense to you at the end. :)

Yesterday I had a significant series of spiritual thoughts stemming from books, Bible and hymnal. I'll write them here for you and then see if I can connect the dots for you - the way my brain did yesterday - or if I just leave you to connect your own dots.

From For Everything a Season, by Philip Gulley, "To be accurate, despite our indifference to idolatry, God still gets his dander up about it. God is funny that way. He wants to be first in our lives, not for the sake of his ego but for the sake of our joy. Thus he commands his followers to worship God and God alone. Because all other gods, these little g gods, ultimately disappoint. They are straw gods who whither when life heats up. So it is for our joy that God commands our devotion. God alone is the one who is forever faithful, who never disappoints, whose love knows no end."

From John 15:9-14 "As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Now remain in my love. If you obey my commands, you will remain in my love, just as I have obeyed my Father's commands and remain in his love. I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete. My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends. You are my friends if you do what I command."

From an old hymn,

"Turn your eyes upon Jesus,

Look full in His wonderful face,

And the things of earth will grow strangely dim

In the light of His glory and grace."

Here's what jumped out at me - it is for my joy that Jesus asks hard things of me. When He calls me to give up things of this world, it is for my joy. When He insists on being the One and Only God in my life - with nothing before Him - it is for my joy.

And, in regards to love and obedience, which has sometimes been quite convoluted in my mind, it is not "If you obey my commands I will love you." It is clearly, "If you obey my commands you will remain in my love." Jesus' love for me is not conditional to my obedience. He doesn't love me because He is pleased with me. He loves me. Period. AND, I receive His love when I remain in Him. Obedience isn't to earn God's love, it's to know and experience God's love. My obedience puts me in a place to receive what is already there. Disobedience removes me from the flow of God's love. Obedience causes me to remain in His love. It's not a matter of God removing love and then giving it again - based on my actions and choices. It's a matter of God's love being continually poured over me and me choosing whether or not I will remain in the stream.

When God calls me to turn my back on things I enjoy, like TV and movies and novels and internet surfing and unhealthy friendship, it's not because He's a big kill-joy. It's for my joy - because He KNOWS I will be more fulfilled, content and Joyful - that He guides and directs and teaches me.

Obedience can feel like such a heavy word to me sometimes, but I'm starting to glimpse the truth that obedience is my delight. And the promise is that the things of earth - the things I struggle to release to God - will grow strangely dim, the more I gaze upon His love and grace.

Good call

2010-11-25T10:50:00.001-08:00

Pie baked. . . Check

Turkey Trot. . . Check

Salad chilling. . . Check

Happy Thanksgiving!!

I had a bit of time to check e-mail this morning, and I ran across a daily devotional that pretty much sums up, in two paragraphs, the spiritual journey I've been on for the last year or so. Just thought I would pass it along - have a great day!

http://www.ransomedheart.com/more_dailyreading.aspx?id=11/25/2010

Cards

2010-11-24T08:46:00.000-08:00

I've always been a card player. I grew up going to my friends' houses and playing Nertz. A family staple was Bid Tricks, and I spent many a quiet afternoon playing Solitaire. One of my claims to fame among my nephews is that I'm a fast card dealer - and when 14 people are playing Scum, it pays to deal fast. One of my favorite card-playing memories of all times involved late night laughter, "cigars", my sister-in-law, Up and Down the River, and the biggest comeback of all time! (Ask Karen about it, she would love to tell you!!)

Jeff, on the other hand, is not a huge card player. He plays Gin Rummy or Cribbage just to make me happy, but I get the feeling his life would be fairly complete even if he never owned a deck of cards. Every now and then, when he recognizes that we need some down-time together, he'll suggest we play a game or two before bed. Last night was one of those nights, so after a few rounds of Mancala, we pulled out the deck for a quick hand of Gin Rummy. He beat me quickly and soundly the first hand, so we dealt another. I had an epiphany as we began the second round, and I tried a new strategy.

To tell you the strategy, I have to explain a bit about the game. We call it Gin Rummy, but I may actually have the wrong name. It's a simple game of trying to be the first person to lay down all 7 of your cards in sets or runs. Each time it's your turn you draw a card and discard another. If you can "lay down" a set or a run, you do it on your turn. When someone plays all their cards, the game is over and everyone counts up how many points they have from the cards they laid down. The thing that makes this game interesting is that the discard pile is laid out accordion style so you can see the whole thing. When it's your turn to draw, you can either draw one card from a face-down pile, or you can pick up a card from the top of the discard pile. OR, you can pick up all or part of the discard pile, as long as you can immediately lay down the lowest card you pick up. Sorry if that's not perfectly clear, but it's the best I can do without having you across the table from me and a deck of cards between us.

Picking up the discard pile is a huge advantage, because you have so many cards to work with, and you can get many more points laid down. It's also a risk, because if someone goes out when you have all those cards in your hand, you have to subtract those points from what you have laid down. Despite the risk, it's always my goal to find a way to get that discard pile at some point during the game. My usual way to do this is to hang onto cards in my hand that have the potential for a set or run, and hope that someone else discards something I can use. Last night my epiphany was that if I wanted a better chance of being able to pick up the discard pile, I needed to "seed" the pile. I discarded cards that went with something in my hand, waited for more cards to accumulate in the pile, and then picked up the pile with the card I had intentionally laid down a few turns before.

The beauty of this strategy is that there are plays waiting to happen. I sit with a delicious knowledge of the potential sitting right in front of me and just wait for the right moment to collect my treasure and score all my points. The other advantage is that I don't fret so much over needing to discard a card I might want later. I just put it out there and see what happens. There is, as in every great move, a risk involved. It's possible that I lay my treasure out there only for Jeff to realize that he can also use it, and have him scoop up the pile and I lose my "seed." But there is also the possibility that I will be able to score big.

This time it paid off and I won big - but that's not why I'm writing about it.

I'm writing about it because I think it has some application to life. Sometimes "safe" is not the best decision. Sometimes we need to take a risk in order to gain the prize we're after. In relationships we risk personal investment before we see return. Financially we take risks when we invest in stocks or buy homes or give money to God's Kingdom. In our careers we take risks when we give up what we don't love for the opportunity to try what we believe will fulfill us. As parents we take risks in giving our children more independence and opportunity to succeed, or fail, on their own. All around us, every day, are opportunities to "seed" our areas of influence - corporate, family, church, personal, relational, educational - to risk personal investment before we are guaranteed of the results.

I'm not espousing reckless risk - I do realize that life is quite different from cards - but I am encouraging freedom to try something in a new way. And enjoy the journey!

It's worth it

2010-11-20T11:06:00.000-08:00

My friend e-mailed this week to see if I wanted to run at 7:00 on Saturday morning. That's 7am on a cold November Saturday. Think, "Kids are not going to school, I would not otherwise have to be out of bed by 7 in the morning." I had visions of cold ears, runny nose, and of getting out of my cozy warm bed much earlier than I preferred.

I e-mailed back and suggested coffee - it sounded so much better for an early Saturday morning outing.

She e-mailed again and said I shouldn't tempt her and that she would pick me up at 7:00.

Last night was a bear. We have rodents of unusual size (ROUS's - what movie is that from?!) in the small attic above our bedroom, and I think they were having a picnic on Jeff's mouse bait last night. I wouldn't be surprised to learn that there was some rodent band playing country music for all the square dancing rodents of the neighborhood. My only consolation is that they will eventually die and never come back if they continue to picnic on the bait in the attic above my bed.

Then at 4:20ish I was summoned by one of the boys who needed attention. This summons was actually a bigger deal than most middle of the night summons, and I wasn't back to bed for about 30 minutes. If you do the math, that puts me back to bed at 5:00ish, just one hour before I needed to wake up for the aforementioned early morning run. Thankfully, the rodent band had wrapped up and gone home for the night and the dancers were keeping it to a dull roar - so I was able to sleep for an hour.

The alarm at 6:00 has rarely been more uninviting than it was this morning. I was tempted to get out of bed only long enough to text my friend and say, "Rough night, see you next time." But the truth is I was awake and I knew it would be good for me. Good to connect with this friend and good to get exercise. So I only hit the snooze twice and then dragged myself out of bed and into my frigid bathroom to change into running gear. This was not my favorite part of the day.

When I was 12, I could go run a mile without any warm up or stretching. The coach made us stretch, but it never made much sense to me. Young muscles are so forgiving. 38 year old muscles, I'm learning, are not quite as forgiving. If I'm not going to be sore for the 24 hours following a run, I must stretch out first. This morning was no exception. I took my devotional book to my angled stretching board (for my calves) and read as I loosened up. By the time I was done with 15 minutes of reading and stretching, I actually was beginning to feel positive about this early morning outing.

My friend arrived just after 7 and we were off. We put on our gloves, started the mileage watch and took off. We avoided one flooded path, waded through another, and ran about 3 miles - all the while talking through one of life's mysteries. You'll be happy to know that we solved it. It was a good morning's work.

As I hopped out of her car and headed into the house to face whatever I might find there, I discovered I was glad I had gone. I felt great and had truly enjoyed all aspect of the adventure (though my shoes are still laying in front of the heater to dry out.) Though it had not seemed very inviting, it was worth it.

Wonder what else we avoid, procrastinate, or escape from that would truly be worth it if we just did it?

The Woods

2010-11-17T07:00:00.000-08:00

Woods always look darker from the outside. Have you ever noticed that? Running the other night at dusk through Bush Park, I became concerned that between me and home was a section of dark looming trees, right along the creek. Usually I love this stretch of path because it offers shade and beauty, but this night it caused me a moment's concern as I glanced ahead and noticed how much darker it seemed ahead.

Rationalizing that it was only 5:15 pm, and there were several other walkers and joggers along the path, I decided it would not be unsafe to proceed, and so lost myself in my running thoughts once again. I was about halfway through the wooded part when I realized how much light was coming through the trees. It was truly a dusky kind of beautiful in there.

It reminded me of the days when I was a camp counselor leading the nature hike and Canyonview Camp. We had a beautiful path that led from the creek at the bottom of the canyon, up a steep wooded hillside, opening into a gorgeous meadow (with the best wild blackberry patch on the planet.) As we climbed into the open meadow, we could see the forest on the far side. It always looked so foreboding from the outside. A tall, dark, wall of fir trees that seemed to be solid from end to end. One could only imagine that the inside of the forest was just as thick and dark.

However, when me and my troops of little bodies followed the path into the woods with our blackberry-stained mouths. We found exactly the opposite of thick and dark. With little sunlight to spur growth on the interior, the only parts of the trees that grew thickly were the very tops and the sides which seemed foreboding from the outside. Inside, this created a vaulted ceiling affect. As if a person were walking through a natural cathedral. Sunlight streaming in through the high branches and creating patches of light in pools all around. The delicate fronds of fern inviting passers-by to look closer, explore, discover.

The forest at camp was one of my very favorite spots on this planet, and running through Bush Park at dusk the other night reminded me of one of my favorite life-lessons: The woods always look darker from the outside.

What woods are you concerned about today? Is there a season approaching, or a situation looming, that sparks fear of thick darkness? Are you concerned that passing through may not be altogether "safe"? Take heart, when once you begin down the path, you may find it to have unexpected patches of light, places of beauty, joy and discovery - that can only be found by having the courage to walk through the wall of tall, dark firs, and finding within a hushed and holy place for your soul, even in the midst of shadows.

Raking, Running and Rethinking

2010-11-15T09:49:00.001-08:00

I know, I know, way too much time to think about my title - all R's - kind of tacky. Sorry. :)

So last Wednesday was our garbage day. Garbage day is special around our house because a big truck comes and carries away all our refuse. It's great! It's also special because we're often running at the sound of the truck to get our can to the curb so that the magical transfer can happen. Recycling day is especially bad because the recycling truck only comes every other week - so we really need it - but it comes earlier than the rest - so we often miss it. Suffice it to say that I know the route of the recycling truck, and if I miss him on the West side of the street, where we live, and I can roll my can to the East side of the street, leave it in front of my neighbor's, and it will eventually get picked up. Then I can stroll across the street and happily bring my empty blue can home.

So, as I mentioned, last Wednesday was the big day for the week. But this week, as you all may know since most of you live in Oregon or have been to Oregon, the big push was for the yard debris cart because of all the leaves on the ground. If a person can fill the cart with leaves in time to get in emptied, they might be able to finish raking their yard by filling it just one more time. While I was out raking the leaves when the truck came by the East side of the street. Assuming this was already his second pass through through the neighborhood (because that's what the recycling truck does) I ran across the street with my half-filled cart so that I could get it emptied before he moved on.

Once the big, magical truck was on it's way, I went back to the yard and continued raking. Now, Jeff and the kids had made some piles over the weekend. I therefore had a choice - no big deal really, but a choice - I could either put their piles in the cart, or rake up more leaves from another part of the yard and then fill the can. Not really recognizing the choice as a choice, I just started pulling some leaves into a pile with my rake and continued until I had raked the back part of our yard, and our neighbor's leaves as well. It was just as I was coming back from my neighbor's yard with a big pile under my rake that I heard it. The yard debris truck man was coming back down the WEST side of the street. And I had a mostly empty can sitting in my yard. Aaaaarghhhh. If I had KNOWN that the routine was different from the recycling truck. . . .If I had KNOWN he would be back. . . I could have made a different choice. In that 30 minutes I could have packed that can and then re-packed it once he was gone. I would not have had two piles of blowing leaves in my yard all week! But such was not the case. I was standing in my yard with a stricken look on my face with the nice yard debris truck man stopped his truck and smiled at me as if to say, "Is there anything in that cart you want me to take?"

I rolled what I had to the street and he dumped it into his magical truck, but I was acutely aware of missed opportunity. And that's when it hit me, "I have to blog about this." Why? you might ask. It would be a fair question. It's a silly story really. But here's what hit me: There are things I can't know, that if I did know, would change the choices I make. Go with me here.

This is why it's important for us to walk with a clear understanding of the Holy Spirit's voice and how God nudges and prompts us. Because in little and big ways, there are things God knows, that we can't know, that if we knew it would change some of the choices we make. I'm not saying this in a guilt-trip way, like "You should be listening to the Lord," but in an opportunity kind of way, like "God can save you from missing the garbage truck."

When we pray and ask God for direction, if we stop and wait for His answer, He will nudge and prompt us. If we don't sense a direction, perhaps it's because either decision would be o.k. If we do sense a direction, perhaps God knows something we don't know and He's giving us a heads up. "Hey, Jennifer, the garbage truck is coming back today, fill your cart first."

Now, in this particular instance, I didn't hear from God - I just missed the truck. But that's not the point. The point is that I believe God speaks to us daily, and the more we tune our ears to His voice, the more we will hear.

And what does running have to do with all of this? Well, I was wanting to go running to get my exercise last Wednesday but I couldn't because I didn't have childcare. So I chose to rake leaves instead. And I got a great workout. I was raking to beat the band, running in my rubber boots, in the yard debris cart, stomping down all those wet leaves. It was truly a cardio work-out!! I was grateful. Sometimes opportunities don't come in the package we expect, but they are still great opportunities.

20 Years from now

2010-11-08T11:57:00.000-08:00

I was presented with a question this weekend that had significant impact on my current life choices. I don't remember how much I've blogged about this, but if you've known me for any length of time, you may know that housework and cooking have been the bane of my existence. I may have claimed some other bane in some other post, but that would only be because I temporarily forgot housework and cooking. They are the true bane - in all it's banefulness!

Just to paint the picture so you know what I'm talking about: In our home we have 18 rooms/spaces. A living room, 3 bedrooms, my worship room, the kitchen, pantry, mudroom, entryway, sunflower room, kitchenette, two bathrooms and a few places in the basement - not to mention closets and the yard. Of those 18 rooms/spaces, I am pleased with the state of 5 of them - my bedroom, my worship room, the laundry room, Jeff's study (because it's not my responsibility) and the yard (because I don't care about yardwork). Every other space has something that bugs me: hot spots for clutter, ongoing cleaning projects, needed repair, kids' messes that need my help to clean up. . . Some days are great - I zip through the house and clean up the surface clutter, closing all the stuff I don't know what to do with in closets and cupboard. If you were to come over on one of those days, and not look too closely at the cobwebs on the ceiling, the corners of my bathrooms, or the sun streaming through the windows (this is why I only have friends over after dark) you might think I'm a good housekeeper. I feel like a success. But on other days, when we've been running to practices and church and games and life - and only home long enough to drop stuff, grab stuff and run off again - life becomes overwhelming and I feel like all the boxes are going to come crashing down. It ends up looking a bit like a "binge and purge" diet for me. I let everything pile up until I think I'm going crazy, and then I clean like a mad-woman to get it all back together. And the trouble is, I can never get it completely clean before it starts to get messed up again.

This way of living isn't working for me. Don't even get me started on food. Suffice it to say that daily at 4:00 pm you are as likely to find me in an emotional heap on my kitchen floor as to find me standing by my stove, happily preparing a family meal. I may not be physically on the floor, but trust me, my heart is often sinking to the floor as I wrestle with not only the question of what to make for dinner that night, but also the shame-induced question of why I can't get my act together and take care of meals for my family.

That has been the status quo - with seasons that improve, only to deteriorate again.

So this weekend I was at the beach with a small group of women, including my life coach Barb Burge, and we were reading, journaling, discussing and praying together about the topic of a mission statement for life and work. We worked through a book together, answering thought-provoking questions and doing some serious soul searching. It was in one series of questions that I had my epiphany.

The author of the book asked us to consider, and write down, what life would be like - if we just maintained our "status quo" - in 3 years, 5 years, 10 years and 20 years. My answer for 3 years was basically that I would still be pleased with my running, nutrition and immediate family relationships, but that I would also still be frustrated with my inability to get the clutter and mess of my house in order, and still overwhelmed by the task of feeding my family nutritious meals on a regular basis. In other words, still stuck in wishful thinking and good intentions, but not any long-term positive changes. 5 and 10 years seemed very similar to that, with only increasing stress as the kids get older, are involved in more sports (creating more dirty laundry), collect more school projects (we are buried in stuff because I can't get rid of kindergarten drawings), and require more meals to nourish their growing bodies.

The writing was on the wall, so to speak.

And then I got to the part about 20 years from now. I began to imagine it. Josiah will be 29, Titus 27 and Abby 24. In all likelihood Jeff and I will live alone in our home. I will be cooking for 2, not 5. No children will be messing up what I have just cleaned. I will probably do three loads of laundry instead of 45 each week, and there will be a 60% reduction in the amount of dishes I do. My house, in all probability, will be how I've always wanted it to be - clean and peaceful. . . and it will be empty.

And it was at that moment that tears began to burn my eyes and my heart began to ache in my throat as I realized that if nothing changes in the way I deal with meals and housework, I would be so very, very sorry that I had spent all those years of opportunity stressed about everyday life. I tasted the bitter edge of regret as I pictured what life would be like in 20 years if all I did was maintain my status quo. My binge and purge.

I don't know exactly how to get from point A to point B. I've tried so many ways in the past, and always seem to land back in the same spot - overwhelmed and frustrated. I don't have the plan for HOW to change, but I have a new resolve in my spirit to change. I know it will be hard work. I know I will have to change not only my actions, but my fears and attitudes as well. I know I've tried before and failed. And I know one more thing: I don't want to look back 20 years from now and regret that I never made the choice to change.

Of Leaves and Beauty

2010-11-05T08:08:00.000-07:00

I love this season of year. I love it when the trees turn vibrant shades of yellow, orange and red. I love it when I look out my window and all day long I can see delicate yellow leaves drifting and fluttering to the ground. I especially like it in years like this when the leaves don't come down in one blustery Fall rain storm, but over a few days of Fall sunshine and gentle breezes. The sun filters through the trees as the leaves willingly give up their hold on the branch and dance the uncharted twirl, dip, flutter and float to the ground. And on the ground, oh, it's so beautiful. For just a few days each year there is this crunchy, delicious coat of color in my front yard. Every time I step out I hear the satisfying crunch of beauty underfoot.

I know, I know, Fall also ushers in Winter. In Oregon that means cold, wet and gray for the next 4-7 months. By Spring I will be eagerly awaiting longer days and warmer sunshine. I also know that leaves make messes, and by next week, when it's been raining for 4 days straight and I still need to go out and rake up the brown, wet, soggy, slimy carpet on my front lawn, I may be singing a different tune. But for now, for today, it's glorious, and I love it!

And every year the Fall leaves remind me that my hold on life is only temporary. That there is a beauty in letting go. That when something ends in an appropriate time and season, even the descent can be a dance, a thing of beauty. When I go through seasons of life when it seems as if I am the leaf on the sidewalk, trod underfoot, it's good to remember that God sees and knows each leaf. He created each one. And each serves it's complete purpose. And perhaps, for a season, my purpose is to display the beauty God has given me by doing the dance of abandon. Abandon to control, understanding, appearances - and dancing to the unknown, the next season, the yet-to-come.

Ethereal thoughts. Not completely solidified thoughts. Kind of like the leaves floating in front of my living room window - my thoughts are fleeting and quickly passing. They leave a simple sense of goodness and beauty, without a clear definition of how one gets there. A sense of hope for an unknown future. A reason to live today with beauty and intention.

Me and Paul

2010-11-01T11:24:00.000-07:00

I've been encouraged by scripture lately. Have you ever read some of the things Paul said? He was so human, and God used him so greatly. I've been encouraged that perhaps I'm not so far off the path as I've been tempted to think in these difficult days.

There's the classic in Romans 7 "I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do. And if I do what I do not want to do, I agree that the law is good. As it is, it is no longer I myself who do it, but it is sin living in me. I know that nothing good lives in me, that is, in my sinful nature. For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. For what I do is not the good I want to do; no, the evil I do not want to do-- this I keep on doing. Now if I do what I do not want to do, it is no longer I who do it, but it is sin living in me that does it. . . What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from the body of death? Thanks be to God -- through Jesus Christ our Lord!" Oh Paul, I so get you. From start to finish, this rant makes sense to me. And though I'm not sure what Paul's sin of choice was, I wouldn't be surprised if it was PG-13 movies. At least movies have been the hook in my soul for the last month. And not just nice entertainment once a week, but an insatiable desire for the lives and romances of fictitious characters.

Then I saw this, from 2 Corinthians 7:5-6, "For when we came into Macedonia, this body of ours had no rest, be we were harassed at every turn--conflicts on the outside, fears within. But God, who comforts the downcast, comforted us by the coming of Titus." Seriously, Paul had "fears within?" I have literally said, out loud, in recent weeks, "I feel like I'm going crazy." The gyrations of my mind on an emotional roller coaster are truly dizzying. I can't tell you what an encouragement it was to open my Bible and find my current state of mind described by a man of God like Paul. It gives me hope.

Speaking of hope, there's another one from Paul that has been meaningful to me lately. From 2 Corinthians 12:8-9, "Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take (the thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me,) away from me. But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Did you notice that? It doesn't say, "My power will take away your weakness." God doesn't promise us that we won't have ongoing struggles in weakness, He promises that He will be with us and that He is enough.

I'll leave you with a great one today - one that has been a mantra for me for a couple years now - from Romans 15:13 "May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit."

Mile 11

2010-10-29T22:18:00.001-07:00

My younger, stronger, in-better-shape running partner had ambitious goals for the day. This was her third half-marathon and she was looking to better her already good time. I decided to go for it and try to stick with her. We had a great run for 9 1/2 miles. The pace was good, the view was gorgeous and the company was superb. Great running conversation! But by the middle of mile 9 I could no longer ignore the growing pain in my calves as they clamped tighter and tighter with each step. Nor could I ignore the obvious need for a bathroom pit-stop.

Telling my friend that I was going to ease up a bit took me about a mile. In no way did I want to beat her, but competitive blood flows through my veins, and letting her go went against all my gut instincts, even if it was in line with my better judgement. I argued with myself for a mile and finally, somewhere in mile 10, necessity overpowered pride and I slowed my pace to better match my waning strength, giving her freedom to run ahead and make her goal for the race.

After my much needed pit-stop, I stretched my calves a bit, downed a cup of water, and resumed running for the last 2 miles. It was in this mile, mile 11, that I began to feel the real struggle to keep going. There were women with shirts that said, "Courage to start, faith to finish," and I was in need of faith as I panted up the long, long hill. My legs hurt, with every step, and though I was able to continue putting one foot in front of the other, my brain was so very aware of each individual step.

It was about then that I happened to glance up and see how beautiful the blue sky was. And as I ran and gazed above, an incredible thing happened, for four or five seconds I forgot that my legs hurt. So I tried it again, careful to look where I was going so I didn't trip, gazing at the green trees and blue sky and noting what a fantastic day it was. And each time I lifted my gaze the weariness and pain I had been so acutely aware of for several miles would dim, fading into the background.

And so it was in mile 11 God gently reminded me that life is like that. There are hills, and pit-stops, and the need to let companions go their own way and pace. There are circumstances that leave us alone, exhausted and in pain, and yet we keep going. And if we look at our circumstances, examine our pain or focus on how alone we are, these seasons can be excruciating. But if we lift our eyes to something beautiful, get our gaze off of the pit we're in, we can, even if it's just for a moment, feel less pain and loneliness.

In the gaze of grace, we assist in our own healing process - lifting our eyes from the trouble to the Redeemer, from the pain to the Healer, from our thirst to the Source of Living Water. It was in mile 11 that God gently suggested that I take time each morning to focus on who He is, anchoring myself in His nature and character every day. For when I truly gaze on God, everything else pales in comparison and falls into place.

So God, today I gaze on You, my creator, who - by the power of Your Word - made all things, and entrust my shadowlands to you.

Got Started

2010-10-25T11:56:00.000-07:00

Well, I've had a project brewing for several months now, and today I just woke up and got started. I wanted to have the names of God around the top of the wall in the worship room. I researched online to find out how much it would cost to have it printed by one of those wall art companies, but it was incredibly cost-prohibitive. I figured I'd just use my trusty projector with the font I love from my computer, trace it in pencil and paint it in purple. . . now I'm wondering how long I'm going to have the ladder in my worship room! It's a slow process, but I'll be happy with it when I'm done. Now we just can't move for the next ten years. I'll post a picture when I have one.

By a thread

2010-10-22T10:41:00.001-07:00

There is a frayed and frazzled thread in my life, it's the only connection left to my sanity. Turns out there are some seasons in life that require more of us than we anticipate. For example, bringing your first baby home. If this has never been a part of your life experience, trust me, it will require more of you than you anticipate! Or bringing your second child home. Truly, for six months I thought I might not make it out in one piece. Or choosing to be an active parent at your childrens' school. It's not bad, it just can eat up your time and energy and require more of you than you anticipate.

You know you are in one of those seasons when you find yourself close to tears over the silliest things, or at the craziest times. I remember crying over the mashed potatoes at Thanksgiving when I was pregnant with one of the boys. I have cried over my kitchen sink more times than I wish to imagine, and in my bathroom a handful of times. This week alone I have been close to tears in my kitchen, living room, car, front porch, harvest festival, in parking lots and on the football field. It's not that I could have told you what the problem was, just that I had no more margins in life to deal with the issues in my head and heart. And besides all that, I'm tired.

Tiredness does more to us than we realize, and often the seasons that push me over the edge are a mix of circumstances that are out of my control, with a large dose of my own poor choices with how to use the time I do have. (There's a theme that runs through my life more often than I like.)

In so many ways and on so many levels this Fall has required more of me than I anticipated. From superficial things like giving hair cuts and doing dishes, to the scheduled events like work and school and football. From physical demands like driving a lot and being up late, to emotional drains like analyzing my personal relationships and having little to no time with My Farmer. From morning to evening. From today to tomorrow. I find myself in a season that requires more of me than I anticipated.

And I'm coming up short. I'm in meltdown mode and it's only October 22nd. I need to make it through October 30th. Do you ever feel like - or is this a shocking personal confession - your brain is shutting down and taking your heart with it? The process of shutting down and turning off starts slowly, almost imperceptibly, until I'm in the middle of it and I look around and say to myself, "I'm not o.k." I don't know about the signs for you, but here are some of the signs for me that all is not well:

I'm content to let the house go to seed, piles growing in every corner and on every surface

I let myself go, not being diligent about eating well, exercise and good amounts of sleep

I prefer a book to the company of my children

I prefer a movie to the company of my husband

I prefer to ask my friends how they are, and brush off the question when it's asked of me

I find myself distant from God and afraid to hear what He might say if I tried to listen

However, I trust that a new day is coming. No matter how excruciating the days are until then, October 30th WILL come, and my schedule will change, our routines will be restored, and by faith I believe that my heart will thaw. I will have opportunity for healing conversations with My Farmer. I will have times to play, light-heartedly and with laughter, with my miracles. I will turn to the light of God's love and realize that He is truly good and desires the best for me.

In the meantime, I'm hanging on by a thread.

Note to self

2010-10-18T12:31:00.000-07:00

On the day after your first half-marathon ever, don't plan to walk very far, or, even get out of bed for that matter.

13.1

2010-10-17T14:38:00.001-07:00

Some milestones are meant to be marked, and since you're my friends, I will tell you that I ran 13.1 miles today in Vancouver, WA. My girlfriend Shannon invited me to join her for a half-marathon when her running partner couldn't make it. It was a stretch for me to bump up my training in order to make it - but it was with a huge sense of accomplishment that I crossed the finish line.

I'm sure there are several lessons I may share with you on the whole topic of running, but for today I just thought I'd say, "I did it." :)

In my head

2010-10-16T21:31:00.000-07:00

Can't tell you how many posts are half-written in my head. Sorry it's been so long, it's been that kind of a month. I'm hoping to post a few things soon, but hopes haven't carried very far lately in terms of blogging.

Here's a random thought, based on my reading lately. What would happen if Christians consistently loved each other in observable ways, with true humility and respect for one another?

2010-10-11T11:07:00.001-07:00

Driving

2010-09-28T12:19:00.000-07:00

The other day, on the way to Pratum to pick up the boys from school, I glanced in my rearview mirror and saw Abby was nodding off. I watched over the next couple minutes as her eyelids drooped, her body sagged, and she finally dozed off into a deep sleep. My last glance back I suddenly had a flashback, to watching a younger Abby, on a different road, nodding off the same way.

In the flash of my eye I remembered that Abby and I have been driving buddies for a long time. We used to wear out the tread on the tires between Salem and Portland as we went to all her appointments with medical specialists. At Emanuel Hospital there was the developmental specialist, cardiologist, nephrologist, orthopod and physiatrist. At Meridian Park in Tualatin we saw her occupational and physical therapists. In Clackamas she had an eye doctor. At the bottom of the OHSU hill was Randall, our favorite orthotics guy, and somewhere in Portland was another orthotics office we visited twice. At Dornbecher we saw another pediatric orthopod, her neurosurgeon, and eventually her eye doctor/surgeon.

So many appointments and surgeries and check-ups and interventions. In that moment my brain surrendered memories of prism glasses, neck braces and hospital rooms. Waiting rooms, exam rooms and surgery recovery rooms. And in it all Abby and I had a routine.

As often as possible I made her appointments for mid-morning. We would get the boys to school and head up the freeway to slide into her appointment just barely late. After she had been seen by a doctor, or a therapist, or fitted for an orthotic, we would head back to the reception desk, make our next appointment and head for lunch. We had a favorite eatery at each place. Emanuel has the Heartbeat Cafe. OHSU has the Daily Cafe at the bottom of the tram. Tualatin has a Jack in the Box just over the freeway overpass. Each place had a lunch spot that became our date. She would get a juice and fries, I would try to find something reasonably healthy, and we would enjoy the surroundings. We were experts at elevators, fountains, parking garages and riding the tram.

Abby was also an expert at sleeping in the car. With belly full, and morning spent, she almost always fell asleep somewhere near the Terwilliger curves on the way home. Once I was out of downtown Portland I would call Jeff and give him a report on the morning's appointment. As we talked, I would glance in the rearview mirror to see how close she was to falling asleep. Her eyelids would start to droop, her body would sag, and then I would glance back and she would be sound asleep.

And it was that sound-asleep-in-the-car-moment last week that brought, in a flash, all these memories crashing through my heart. What I've just typed took less that 10 seconds to flit through my brain and land at this thought, "I need to blog about why I call her a miracle."

It's so easy to forget, in day-to-day life with a perfectly normal 4 year old, where we started and what she had to go through to get here. Every now and then, when she's running around nakey, I catch a glimpse of a scar on her spine or her sternum and I'm astounded that I've forgotten about her life and death encounter with a heart surgeon, or her straightening encounter with the neurosurgeon. I marvel at the normalcy of life.

There was a season, not too long ago, that there was nothing "normal" about my day-to-day life, and that's why I call my daughter a miracle. A daily reminder of God's all-sufficient grace to carry us through the hard winter nights of the soul. A ray of sunshine straight from the throne room of heaven. A sparkle of joy, laughter, delight. I don't know what God has planned for Abby Joy, but I know it's special, because she is so special.

Repetition

2010-09-28T06:34:00.000-07:00

Good morning friends -

I got up this morning and browsed my e-mail before launching into the day. I receive daily e-mail devotional thoughts from Ransomed Heart ministries, and I was intrigued that this morning's topic was so close to what I blogged about yesterday. Thought I would share it with you:

http://www.ransomedheart.com/more_dailyreading.aspx?id=9/28/2010

Have a great - and restful - day.

Jen :)

Of Weakness and Strength

2010-09-27T10:22:00.000-07:00

I sense the foundations shifting, and it's good. Not easy, mind you, but good. A very elementary truth has started to come clear to me, and I suspect the ramifications of truly understanding it might be even greater than I yet grasp. I owe the credit for this epiphany to God and Andrew Murray. The latter because he wrote about it and God because, well, He's God.

I posted a quote on here a few days back, "Christians want to conquer their weakness and to be freed from it; God wants us to rest and even rejoice in it." It jumped off the page at me from my devotional book because it speaks so clearly to the journey I've been on for close to a year now. I've felt that this has been a season of exposed weakness - primarily God exposing my own weaknesses to me. Opening my eyes to blind spots, revealing faulty thinking, gently leading me to new places.

As I've traveled this road - one I would not have asked for but am deeply grateful to be on - the goal seemed to be freedom. Freedom from doubt, insecurity, failure and shame. In short, freedom FROM my weaknesses. But lately I've been having different types of thoughts, a rustling in the leaves, if you will. A gentle Holy Spirit breeze that whispers to my soul, "You have the wrong goal."

I only catch snippets and glimpses of the thought, and then it passes by. I haven't "landed" the thought or fully developed it in my mind, but it's there, teasing the edges of my understanding and giving me a yearning to grasp it more fully.

2 Corinthians 12:9 says, "'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me."

What if God is exposing my weaknesses, not to solve them, but to give me humility and extend His grace? What if the goal isn't to eradicate weakness, but to live with an awareness of my weakness? What if that awareness leads to peace, because I accept what I cannot change? What if that awareness of weakness leads to a greater dependance on God because I recognize the limits of my abilities? What if it's not freedom FROM weakness, but freedom IN weakness?

What if the invitation to abide in Christ is not an invitation to be perfected by the vinedresser, but to be pruned by the vinedresser? What if the fruit of the Spirit comes not from striving to be more loving, joyful, peaceful, patient. . . . but becoming more loving, joyful, peaceful, patient, etc. . . because I'm aware of the difference between my humanity and the Spirit's infilling.

What if it's the very awareness of my weakness, and acceptance of myself as I am, that leads to the true rest that has been so elusive in my life? What if rest isn't a byproduct of solving all my problems, but a promise in the midst of living life as God knew I would live it?

I'm beginning to see something, I need it to come clearer, but I think it's big. I think God meant it when He said His yoke is easy and His burden is light (Matthew 11:30). I think He wants to give me His strength. I think He's calling to me, calling me to come to the water and drink, getting what I don't deserve in exchange for embracing what I cannot earn.

There's fun to be had

2010-09-24T06:34:00.000-07:00

Hey out there. Don't miss it. There is fun to be had at Willamette Valley Fruit Company Berry Prairie Harvest Festival. It opened yesterday in the rain, and will be open Tuesday through Saturday until the end of October. Truly, I know I'm biased, but this is one you don't want to miss. Besides the awesome corn maze (which the kids are running through in the picture above) there is a mini zip line, ducky races, mini maze, corn ball, hay ride, barrel rides, a pumpkin patch. . . not to mention a store with pie, ice cream, treats and more.

I'm mad at my computer right now because it wouldn't let me upload more pictures quickly. I'll try to post more soon. The kids were having so much fun!!

This weekend is supposed to be beautiful - it might be the best weather to go check it out! There are even "season passes" for you who might want to take your kids out more than once.

I know this could seem like blatant propaganda for my husband's pumpkin patch, which it is, but there's something more. I want you to know the peace and joy that can be felt out in nature. We, as a culture, live so much of our lives in cars, buildings and on city streets that many of us have lost our connection to the earth. This is an opportunity to get your boots on, let your kids get muddy, and enjoy the beauty and solace of the countryside. Truly, it does things to your soul. I can be having a frantic day, and yet when I pull into the farm, turn off the car, get out and breathe deeply, something like a calm and joy settles in my heart and I find I'm easily pursuaded to stay longer than I intended and enjoy it more than I expected.

Truly, come check it out. Pricing is posted on the WVFco web site. There's no price listed for the season pass I mentioned, but I'm pretty sure, based on a late night conversation with My Farmer, that it's an option.

See you out there.

A few changes

2010-09-16T07:47:00.000-07:00

Hey. Long time no see. My bad. Or good, depending on how you look at it.

This last month has been very eye-opening for me on several levels. Perhaps at some point I'll blog about that, but for today I just thought I would get back on the blog radar, with a few changes.

First, you'll notice there are no comments. I disabled that in order to keep me from checking 5 times a day to see if someone had commented on my brilliant blog posts. Second, I've deleted my sidebar of my friends' blogs. No offense indicated here, I just needed to make better use of my time than blog-surfing all day.

It's my hope that these simple changes will enable me to blog again without getting drawn into the things that were unhealthy in the way I was spending time on the computer.

And for your enjoyment, here are some recent pics of my miracles.

If you didn't already know it, Josiah is a diehard Beaver fan. He was asking all summer to see the Beaver football stadium. So when we were in Corvallis recently we drove onto campus, parked in a permit only spot with no permit, went on the field after having someone tell us we couldn't, (but they promptly left and there were NO signs that said to stay off the field!!) and played catch on the field at Reser stadium. He loved it!! Oh the things an upright woman will do for the children she loves!!!

Titus is my daredevil. It's funny, because I wouldn't have guessed it of him, but he's the one behind the boat telling Pop to go faster. He tried knee-boarding this summer, but did the classic submarine of not letting go of the rope when he fell. You should have seen his poor little face behind the wall of water as Pop couldn't get the boat stopped fast enough!! I was proud of him though, he got right back on, with Uncle Mark's help, and tried again.

And Abby girl, what can I say? She's got spunk. And if it's pink, she wants it. And if she can't have it, she thinks someone else should get it for her. :) We had a lot of fun in the water this summer. She reminds me of me - always running and splashing and not wanting to get out when it's time to go. A true water dog. In pink.

Blogging's fatal flaw

2010-08-17T07:53:00.000-07:00

For me, blogging has a fatal flaw. I discovered it over the weekend, and it's going to radically change the nature of this sight. As in, I'll be gone for awhile, again.

Over the weekend I was helping to lead the Children's Worship Choir at church. The kids led worship for four services, and we had such a great time doing it. It is always a privilege to work with these kids who love Jesus, believe what they're taught, and thrive at being given responsibility in the body of Christ. The weekend was good for my heart and soul - streams of fresh water on parched ground. And it gave me opportunity to reflect on my life, this particular season, on what's going well and what's not going so well.

What's not going so well for me these days is the amount of time I spend on my computer. Rather than toss it in the trash, I decided to examine the areas I was spending the most time. Hands down, it's facebook and blogging (as well as reading the blogs of others).

One of the questions I'm learning to ask is, "What is it I truly desire here?" In this case, what I recognize as my true desire is friendship. I am lonely and longing for a place to connect with others, to be known and understood, and to interact with others. I tell myself that my life is too busy for play dates and coffee dates. I tell myself that I don't want to get babysitters for my kids in order to go out with my friends, but then I proceed to spend as much time on my computer as I would have spent had I gone out with a friend. The real - people in person - is being sacrificed for the less real - people online.

Don't get me wrong, I don't think YOU are less real than other people, I think this style of communication is less real than face-to-face. And in my life, I don't have much face-to-face with friends. I see my family quite a bit, and I have ministry connections with people, but I very rarely hang out with friends.

As a matter of fact, I'm not completely sure where to start in cultivating healthy relationships. Eight or nine months ago I realized that I didn't know how to rest. Yesterday I realized that I don't really know how to sustain healthy, deep relationships. It resonates with my soul, my heart knows it's true, and while I've been looking to my computer screen to fulfill the need, it has not only fallen dreadfully short of meeting my true needs, but it has drawn me away from the very things that would fill me back up.

The fatal flaw with blogging is that there is something in me that has been expecting this blog to fill my need for friendship, interaction and "doing life" together. I put my heart out there, someone out there reads it and "wahlah," I've had relational interaction. But to be completely honest with you, this one sided communication isn't filling up my friendship "bucket". I'm less and less content with the way I've been doing life lately. So, I'm needing to take a break, again, in order to get my life sorted out.

I don't actually think blogging is all bad, quite the contrary, I think there is a lot of good done through blogging. I feel like I know the people I read regularly better and it improves our relationship when I run into them in person. I also feel like it's a great way to keep up with long-distance friends. However, I think I have some other relational issues to work through. If I work through them, when I work through them, when I have healthy relationships outside of the blogging community, when God gives me permission and I feel like I have strength to offer the body of Christ, I will return. If not, I will be pursuing personal relationships in the real world, and would welcome a coffee date with you. My number is 503.508.2801.

Running Again - Conclusion

2010-08-15T23:13:00.000-07:00

And now it's time for a true confession. This confession comes harder to me than most. I was so sure that it would be different this time. . . but I think I need to start at the beginning.

Back in April when I was first starting my "fast" I had dinner with a good friend. We were talking about life and I was telling her about what God was leading me to do. She knew of the earlier part of the journey - when I discovered I didn't know how to rest, and God promised me, "The Lord will fight for you, you need only to be still." She knew that I had been enveloped in God's love, not because I was worthy, but because He loves me. Period. But this whole fasting idea was new and we had a long conversation about it.

As we were wrapping up, she said, "How are you going to keep from just going back to your bad habits when your fast is over." I answered that I honestly didn't know. That it was definitely a pattern for me to try hard for awhile and then fail. However, I also had a sense that since God was leading me from a different direction this time, perhaps it might have a different outcome. Perhaps I could see true and lasting change if I truly grasped how much God loves me and what it means to rest in Him, abide in Him, daily.

Oh, this is such a long story and I'm struggling to know how to sum it up in a blog post. How does a person delve into the deep parts of the heart on a computer screen? Should a blogger even try? Forgive me if this is more than you bargained for - feel free to skip this one and come back for the next post about the corn maze or my cute kids. But for you who want to hang in there and here this running story to the conclusion, you may have to wade through some of the meandering ways of my mind and heart. :)

So I ended my fast in May, and life was at such a high point. My heart was at peace with God, my family and myself. I was truly filled with joy. Life felt productive, restful, good. And then summer hit. I tried to hold on for awhile, and truly, even in June there were many good days. But the true confession is that in many ways I feel like I'm right back where I started. Case in point, I'm typing on my computer at 11:24pm when I have to be up at 5:45 in the morning. I check facebook numerous times a day. I read other blogs incessantly, checking multiple times a day to see if there is something new to read. I waste time while my house is a mess, the checkbook needs to be balanced, and my kids are growing up under my nose - a day older every day - and I'm missing it from behind the computer screen.

I'm back with the apostle Paul, not doing what I want to do, and doing what I don't want to do. And I feel stuck, like perhaps my good friend was more right than I was - that maybe we always revert to our old habits. Or at least I don't know how to ever go about change without my soul all tied up in knots of wondering whether I'm doing it right or not.

And though I feel stuck in so many areas, the fact remains that I'm running. Three times a week, adding miles every now and then, racing for the first time in 15 years. . . .I'm running.

And that's the amazing, hope-giving, truth. And here's the point of the whole 3-blog-post story: I had given up hope of ever running again, and yet I run. So when I'm tempted to despair that there will never be any lasting change in other areas I'm stuck, I have this three-day-a-week new habit that laughs in the face of despair and says, "If I can do it, you can do it."

If God can make the lifestyle changes in me necessary to allow this body to run again, when I had been stuck for so long in bad habits and season of life hindrances, then God is not powerless against my other bad life-practices. Yes, I have regressed, but no, all is not lost.

So, I guess this post is both a confession and a celebration. My confession is that I'm not doing so great in all my pre-posted thriving, and my celebration is that it's not all lost, there are good things that have come out of that season and stuck.

And for that I'm grateful. And I run. Because I can. Because God answered the prayer of my heart.

The prayer I breathed this morning? "God, I'm done living my way. I want your way."

Running Again - Part 2

2010-08-14T23:00:00.000-07:00

(Find the prequel here)

I had been so stuck that I had begun to lose hope that running, or any athletic activity for that matter, could have a place in my future. Last summer I was riding a four wheeler at the pumpkin patch with no helmet (I know, that's bad) and I could feel the wind in my hair. I remember chuckling to myself and thinking, "Well, even if I never run fast again, at least I know how to get this fast feeling again."

I also remember asking God if I could run in heaven. If I could just run for ever and a day, over fields and mountains, and never hurt.

Then one day last December God pointed out to me that I didn't know how to rest. I know, running and rest seem fairly unrelated, but stick with me here. As I went on the journey that has been well-documented on this blog, I began to make changes in my lifestyle. Not because I was trying harder and setting firmer goals, but because I was choosing to wait in God, and He was giving me direction one step at a time. And one step at a time, I began to change. In a season of fasting from all the things I turn to for escape when I'm tired, frustrated, confused, weary. . . Fasting from distractions in order to pursue the Lord with my whole heart.

In that season, as you well know if you've been a reader for the past 6 months, I discovered that I used food as an emotional outlet. When I quit turning to food to cheer me up, I began to shed a few unwanted pounds. When I shed a few pounds, I felt better. I began to get out for walks more often. And on one of my walks, I jogged a block or two. And it didn't hurt.

For the first time in several years, it didn't hurt. So I did it again a few days later. Then I got serious, went to the running store and got myself some real running shoes so I didn't injure myself. And one day when I was out running, just after complaining to God about the difficulty of the season of pruning He had me in, I realized that it was the very pruning I resisted that enabled me to do what I desired to do.

Let me say that again: It was the very pruning I was resisting that enabled me to do what I desired to do.

Running, which continues to be a healthy outlet for me, was given to me as a gift by my Father God who heard my prayer, barely breathed, "God, I want to run."

To be concluded soon. . .

Fun times

2010-08-14T20:50:00.001-07:00

There's a fish on that line. :)

Finding Hope

2010-08-13T21:47:00.000-07:00

So for all of you that thought I was joking about donning my farmer boots and helping mark out a massive corn maze, here's a photo for the upcoming harvest season. Willamette Valley Fruit Co. got an e-mail from an unknown gentleman, who just happened to fly over our field and take a few pictures. I'm not joking. It's awesome!!

I was out in the field for three days marking with spray paint. 3 more guys were out in the field for two more days marking with more paint. Jeff sat on a riding lawn mower for a day and a half. And this is the 13 acre "maze" that is so much more than a maze.

It's a way of life. I'm learning that. You work hard, but the rewards are so enormous. I was out there tonight having dinner with Jeff and the kids. The view from my window encompassed a grass seed field that had been baled and the bales were being loaded onto flat bed trucks, a new orchard of tiny Filbert trees being irrigated, sprinklers spraying in the gorgeous hues of an orange sinking sun. We were hot and sweaty and dirty, but it was beautiful. I sat on the lawn at the store and watched the boys play tag and Jeff play with Abby, and I was deeply content.

The rainbow is actually from last year - I was driving down the road after time at the farm with Jeff and the newly washed world was calling to me. This is the best I could do with my point-and-shoot. Sometimes cameras can't capture the essence of a moment, any more than this blog can capture the essence of being at the farm. I think after 12 years of marriage the farm is finally sending down roots into my soul. It's good.

So come see us in the fall, get lost, and have some fun in our maze. The 2010 in the lower left hand corner is a kiddie maze. You can go run around in there and not get too lost. The MPFS (We are partnering with Marion/Polk Food Share and Hope Station with some of the proceeds of the maze) in the lower right corner is a medium level maze. It does not connect to the bigger maze and can be navigated quite simply. And then the big kahuna. . . well, pack a picnic lunch and plan to stay all day. I think My Farmer is planning some scavenger hunt and prize areas - like refreshments for those who are the first to find hope - for various areas of the maze. I'll keep you posted. Oh, and he wants me to tell you to check out www.theMaize.com "find a maze near you, and select Salem)

The Race

2010-08-13T09:23:00.000-07:00

I was nervous. There were so many conflicting thoughts and concerns in my head.

1) I've never been to this race before, don't know how it all works. Will I be there early enough? (turns out I was like the 2nd to register and had a whole hour to pretend to warm up) Will I know where to go?

2) I haven't raced in 15 years and I don't remember how to warm up. Peering out of the corner of my eye at what other people are doing and copying them.

3) Wanting to be as anonymous as possible because I have NO idea how this will go, and running into my junior high track coach who still remembers the 12 year old who could run 800 meters faster than any other 12 year old girl in the state. (He beat my, by the way, in the 3ooo last night)

4) Reminding myself that I'm just in this for fun - "It's a new stage in life, you're doing this different this time, it doesn't have to be so competitive" - and yet feeling those old pre-race jitters in my head, heart and stomach. Seriously, if I don't care how this goes, then why am I nervous about all the young people sprinting all over this field?!

5) Praying a simple prayer, "God, let this be fun and help me do it different."

All this was before the race even started. As the bull horn went off and the pack took off, I settled back in the back into my 8 minute mile pace, quickly realizing that most everyone else was after a faster pace than that. No problem, I think, I'll just do my pace and some of them will drop off as we go.

Fast forward half the race. I'm feeling it in my legs - they are rebuking me sternly for the 5 mile run on Tuesday, the water skiing on Wednesday and now this. My lungs are keeping up - but working hard. No one is dropping off and I'm falling farther and farther behind the 20-something in green who I had hoped to stay close to.

That's when it happened. God gave me my gift. I had just passed a trio of runners who were distinctly unique. There was a young man and woman encouraging a girl in between them to keep going. She was hurting and struggling. The conversation went something like this:

"It HURRRRTS."

"I know, you can do it."

"This is HARRRD."

"You're doing fine."

"It's HHHHHOT"

" Let's pass 7 people, can you do it?"

"I'll try."

They picked up their pace enough to pass me. I decided to engage in their world and offer some words of encouragement. Just after they got past me she triumphantly stated, "ONE!" But it was as far as she got - settling into a burdened rhythm just in front of me. She, voicing her pain and trial, they, seeking to be positive and help her on to the finish.

We were just starting up the Derby Hill for the last push of the race. I don't remember what I said, but I engaged with her up the hill. In fact, I started to pass her and something inside her rose up as if to say, "I'm not going to get passed by the only person I was able to pass!" So I slowed my uphill pace a bit and matched her stride for stride to the top of the hill.

I pulled ahead as I saw the end in sight and heard her pre-puking behind me. Her sister, as I later found out was her companion, passed me with a 1/4 mile to go, thanking me for the encouragement, and finished the race 30 yards ahead of me. When I crossed the finish line, I was given a popsicle stick with the number 72, and ushered to a table where I was asked how old I was and what my name was. It was encouraging to see that less than a dozen of the racers were women in my "over 30" age bracket. Made me feel better about being in the back half of the back of the pack. :)

So what was the "gift" in this experience? Oh my goodness, it was such a flashback to my past! Coaches yelling from the sidelines, "You know who you need to beat." "Pass five people in this straight stretch." "Pick it up now." And then the poor puking girl. I have no doubt that her friends wanted to help her, but why in the world was she out there dying? And as I ran I was so glad it wasn't me. I was slow, but I wasn't in pain. I wasn't struggling for each step. I have run races where I felt like her, but this was not one of them. We were at the same race-pace, but not at the same life-place.

I remember well the days of goals and pace setting and trying to pass 7 people, and I don't want that anymore. I run because I can. Because after 15 years of working, having babies, eating too many donuts and struggling with any kind of exercise, my legs still work, my lung capacity is increasing, and I CAN. That's it. Period. I can. Someone asked me at the end of the race how it went, and my honest, heart-felt answer was, "I ran, and I finished, it was great."

Let's be clear, I'd like to run faster next Thursday than I ran this Thursday. I was mildly disappointed that my newly rediscovered strength put in such a poor showing compared to the young cross-country training kids out there. However, increasingly it's less about comparing myself to other people and more about seeing myself improve.

Blueberries, Corn and 20 years

2010-08-07T08:01:00.001-07:00

We went to the farm yesterday to pick some berries and pick up some pies. It was another beautiful day in the fields.

Dad was getting the best berries down low in the middle where the machines and other people missed.

My Farmer was all over the place helping u-pickers - we love seeing him, even if it's only a glance while he's on the run.

The boys ran through the corn maze and I decided 3 feet tall is just the right height for me. I can see my kids and see out of the maze, and still enjoy the fact that I'm in a maze. I encouraged My Farmer to have a "corn maze preview" next August so that families with younger kids could do the maze before it was totally overwhelming.

And last night, we had the first of our three reunion events - a nice dinner at the Ike Box, catered by the Wild Pear restaurant. This is Yours Truly with (from left) Jamie (Chicago), Jenny (So. Cal.) and Denise (West Salem) We had a great time together and I'm looking forward to the family picnic today in Jefferson. (I would post a picture of the whole crowd that was there (13 classmates) but this was the only picture that was clear. Bummer. I'm ready for a new camera.)

Happy Saturday.

Then and Now

2010-08-06T10:15:00.000-07:00

In honor of my 20th High School reunion this weekend, here are some thoughts on then and now.

Then: My hair was permed curly, curly, curly. Big hair!!

Now: I use a flat iron to get my hair as straight as possible.

Then: My friends called me Jef, with one 'f'.

Now: I'm married to Jeff.

Then: Boys wore parachute pants.

Now: My man wears Carhardts.

Then: I spent over an hour every morning getting ready for school.

Now: I only wash my hair when it's convenient and I can shower and be ready in 10 minutes flat.

Then: I ran 400m in less than 60 seconds.

Now: I can brush my teeth in less than 60 seconds.

Then: I knew how to use a scientific calculator.

Now: I know how to use the tip calculator on my cell phone.

Then: Life was good, with sporadic hard times.

Now: Life is hard, and God is Good.

What have I missed from the late 80's to now? Tell me your then and now stories! :)

Running Again

2010-08-05T09:31:00.000-07:00

Years and years and eons ago - in another lifetime - when I was 10, I accidentally discovered that I was fast. That if you lined up all the kids in my grade, and had us race around the track, I would arrive at the finish line first. I used to race my neighbor down our street, on his bike, and I would win. It kind of became the neighborhood boast - if any of us had friends over someone would say, "Hey, you should watch Jennifer race Joe on his bike." I loved to run. It was fun, and fast and free. Dad asked me one time what I loved about running and I remember telling him that I loved the feel of the wind in my hair on the back stretch.

For the next 10 years running track was a huge part of my life. From the 6th grade until my Junior year in college I was either competing or coaching. I ran in the "midget" category - forever fielding questions about how a midget could be so tall. I ran as a "junior," (middle school) qualifying to go to nationals in the 800, but backing out at the last minute because I was a kid and wanted to play for the rest of the summer. I ran as a freshman, taking the abuse of older teammates. I ran as a senior, finding a role as a team leader, encouraging younger teammates. I ran in dual meets, conference meets, district meets, state meets regional meets and invitational meets.

I made a lot of memories, had some success, and some losing too. I remember the meet in college at University of Washington. I ran against women so fast that I did two things I had never done before: I ran the 400 faster than I had ever run, and I came in dead last. I also had injuries. I beat my body and to some extent, it still bears the scars. My feet pounded the pavement for so many miles that for years I couldn't run without pain. My knees did so many rotations at such extension and speed, that if I get going at a pace above striding, I can feel the old ache in the same spot as 15 years ago.

And it's been 15 years since I ran regularly. See, by the end of my Junior year in college I was beat up and worn out. Running was no longer fun. The backstretch was all about pressing harder, running faster, strategy and pace - qualifying for the next big event. I wore my hair up in a pony and could no longer feel the wind. I spent 30 minutes with the trainer before practice, getting my legs heated with ultrasound, just so that I could go work out and come back to the trainer for another 30 minutes of ice bath and stretching after my workouts. My roommate was also an athlete and we used to walk home from practice together with our bags of ice and sit on our living room floor icing our injuries as we talked about the day.

Over the years I tried to run for enjoyment and exercise - but there was very little enjoyment. I couldn't stop the old tapes from playing in my head: "Run harder, go faster, push through the pain. . . " I couldn't be a casual jogger, I needed to sprint, to attack the hill, to go further when I wanted to quit. And so I would always stop running. I couldn't stop pushing myself on the road, and I wasn't enjoying it, so I hit this pattern of running for a couple weeks each year, and then quitting until the next year when I would try again and see if I could stick with it without over-doing it.

Then came the babies, all three of them, and the 40 extra pounds. Not 40lbs. overweight for a 6 foot tall 38 year old, but 40lbs. since my running days. And it's a lot harder to run with 40 extra pounds hanging on your bones!! I found that I truly couldn't run without pain. It wasn't just old injuries, it was age and stage and creaks and groans. I didn't have time, for one, I had to push a stroller, for two, and my body just wouldn't endure it. It was in this season that something in my heart shifted. After years of the pressure of running, I felt an old stirring, a desire to feel the wind in my hair. I breathed a prayer from the bottom of my heart. "God, I want to run."

To be continued. . .

Will, Design and Blessing

2010-08-03T12:44:00.000-07:00

I've been reading Andrew Murray again. Abiding in Christ. It's a 30 day devotional that I've been reading for about 9 months now, maybe longer. Anyway, ran across a great quote a couple days ago:

. . . the will of Christ is to (the believer) the only path of liberty from the slavery of his own self-will.

Oh, and another thought, something I pray for my kids often:

That God's original design (Psalm 139) for them will be cultivated and advanced in their lives.

One more nugget for today from Shame Off You, by Alan D. Wright:

(pg. 34) Genesis 1:28 - "God blessed them and said to them, 'Be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it.'"

Does God want us to be fruitful? Absolutely. Does God expect big things from us? He sure does. Does God bless people because they are fruitful? Nope.

Look again at the sequence in Genesis 1:28. The sequence is everything: God blessed Adam and Even and then told them to be fruitful. The blessing came first. The affirmation of their worth did not rest upon their fruitfulness. Instead, their fruitfulness depended upon them knowing their self-worth. The knowledge of their blessedness fueled their capacity to subdue the earth.

I realize those are pretty random thoughts - just thought I'd post them all and see what God does with it.

Eternal tadpoles, Proposals and Reeses Peanut Butter Cups

2010-08-02T22:50:00.000-07:00

Titus has a tadpole. I saw a Frog Planet plastic terrarium thing last November and I bought it for him for his birthday in December. After he opened the present, we sent away for the tadpoles, which can't be shipped if there is any possibility of freezing weather. We waited and waited through January and February until the tadpoles finally came. Billy and Zach were buddies, and we liked watching them wriggle around their little pond. Sadly, Zach was not as robust and passed away before becoming a frog. Billy, on the other hand, has been a nice, big, active, healthy tadpole for about 5 months now. Don't you think 5 months is a little long to be a tadpole? I'm not a frog life-cycle specialist or anything, but we've been waiting for this tadpole to turn into a frog for a very long time. I've begun to wonder if we're doing something wrong. Bad water? Not enough food? Too dark? Too smelly? I've started speaking positively to Billy. Whenever I walk by I lean down and whisper, "Billy, you're a FROG. Be a frog, Billy, be a frog."

Living in the downtown area of Salem gives us an opportunity to cross paths with people of various ages, stages and social position in life. We are just down the street from an organization that helps homeless people, and also just around the corner from a US Market that sells whatever types of things corner markets sell. Needless to say, we have pretty heavy foot traffic of people who are down on their luck. Occasionally I see the same person several times, and I'll strike up conversations with them. I've been on a first name basis with several new friends, and have opportunity to pray with them every now and then. Last week a new face came by several times, a gentleman up in years with an apparent appreciation alcohol. One sunny morning I was skipping down the steps with a joyful smile on my face just as he was dragging himself past our house. I gave a cheerful "hello" to which he looked up and replied. "Hello, you look so nice. Are you married? (mumbling now) They all are." I cheerfully replied in the affirmative and ran back inside, catching Jeff in the kitchen and saying, "Kiss me, I just got hit on."

And one last story to reveal my true nature: I love Reese's Peanut Butter Cups. They've been competing with Butterfingers to be my favorite candy bar for over 20 years. I don't eat them very often, but when I do, I savor every bite. Jeff bought me a Reese's Peanut Butter-Lovers Cup one time - more chocolate and more peanut butter, it was decadent. So this weekend we were camping. I hope to post more on that later, but that's not the point. The point is that someone brought Reese's Peanut Butter Cups to make into S'mores. If you've never had s'mores, I'm sorry. The idea of a s'more with Reese's was almost more than I could bear - it sounded scrumpdillyicious. I was seriously anticipating this morsel of heavenly delight on Friday night, but I never made it to the campfire. I was too busy having good conversations and getting my kids to bed, so much so that the delightful awareness of being near a whole bag of Reese's Peanut Butter Cups slipped my mind until Saturday night at about 10. That's when I was in a great conversation with three very nice friends on the edge of the campfire. My back side was to the fire, getting toasty, and my face was toward my friends. Did I mention I was in conversation? Listening intently. Interested in what was going on. It was good. And then the craziest thing happened. Someone off to my right said, "I have Reese's for your s'mores," and the desire from the night before returned with such force that I didn't even realize I had walked away from the conversation I was in. I went to the angel with Reese's and agreed to split a package with a young boy. It was about this time that I noticed peals of laughter coming from my left as my friends said something along the lines of, "Nice talking with you Jen. No, really, we can see what's important to you." I was captivated by peanut butter and chocolate.

What captivates you?

Nicknames

2010-07-27T08:46:00.000-07:00

Hey all, my friend Becca has an insightful blog and recently wrote about the role of nicknames in her life. I loved her post and it inspired me to think about my own nicknames. Thought I would transfer the conversation to my blog and continue the dialog - I think it's fun to hear about people's nicknames. How about you - do you have any nicknames you'd be willing to share? Here are some of mine:

In my family we used to play around with our names backward, mine was Refinnej Niglub. My brother shortened it and called me Ref for a long time - not so much now, but I still love it when he pulls it out.

In high school my best friend used to run down the hall yelling, "Jeffineffineffineffiner." That got shorted to Jef, with one f, and that still sticks with a small group of friends.

My track friends called me Birdie -long story on that one.

In high school and college as a camp counselor I was "Giraffe" to 100s of kids, who still think of me as that in their head, but rarely say it out loud. Every now and then I mention it to someone and they sheepishly smile and say, "Yeah, that's always the first name I think of for you."

My college friends call me Niffer, and my kids call me Mom, but never, ever, ever, have I been Jenny. Unless you wanted to make me mad. Which a college friend did. And he called me Jenny so often that it stuck, and we laugh - and he's the only one allowed to call me that in the world.

Corn Maze

2010-07-26T08:44:00.000-07:00

It's been a little quiet around the blog lately - I've been out in the corn field. Yep, you heard me, out in the corn field. This farmer's wife, for the first time in 12 years, is actually helping with a farm job. I wish I had pictures to post for you - it's so beautiful and peaceful out there. I'll work on that.

So, My Farmer has planted 13 acres of corn, with the intent to make it a corn maze for this year's Willamette Valley Fruit Company Berry Prairie Harvest Festival in October. The thing is, you have to "cut" the maze in July. And in July My Farmer is also planting raspberries, overseeing the U-pick of Strawberries, Blue berries and Marion Berries, as well as trying to manage a couple of the farm workers. When, you might ask, does a farmer have time to cut a corn maze?

Thus, because I love him and because this is a kind of project I really like - reading a grid map and spray painting lines based on the coordinates of the map - I volunteered to put on my farmer girl boots and head out to the corn field. If you drive down 82nd Ave, between Sunnyview and Lardon, you'll see me out there with my funny had and my boots, marking the map. At the current rate I'll be out there for the next 14 years. . . . actually, it should only take me about 40 hours total at the rate I've been working. :) I need to get faster, and I need to get going.

My parents have the kids all day so that I can get to work, and here I am writing you about working. . . that's wrong. Bye.

Thoughts on chores

2010-07-20T08:16:00.001-07:00

Thanks Kim W. for a prompt for today's post - what chores do I give my kids? Let me say right off the bat that I'm no expert, and consistency is not one of my strong points. Having said that, I have discovered this year that having my kids help around the house makes a BIG difference in my work load and how I'm feeling about our home and about life.

First, it's never too late to start. I had great intentions when the boys were little - and occasionally I did have them help me take out the garbage or put their toys away - but by and large it was much easier to just do it myself than take the time to teach two small boys how to do it. It would have been better for all of us if I had followed through on my intentions. Small children LOVE to help Mom with jobs around the house. They could learn the ethic of work in a setting of enjoyment. Older children, not so much, and sometimes it's a battle of attitude and some resentment to follow through on asking them to help. My advice? If you have small kids, start now, and if you have bigger kids, start now anyway.

Second, starting to implement chores is hard work. Kids need to be taught how to do everything, and become convinced that they're capable. It takes more time to teach and train them than to just do it. The first few times they do something, they'll complain and say they don't know how or that it's too hard. It's easy to give up and not ask them to do that task again because they put up such a fuss. What I've found is when I will be patient and persistent, they can learn to do a task without complaining. About the 4th or 5th time I ask them to do it, they just disappear and the job miraculously gets done. I tell you what, it's exhilarating to realize that for the first time in 10 years I have legitimate help with stuff around the house.

Third, it has helped me a ton to set up reasonable rewards - something they can work towards. In this case, the Wii has been my best friend. The kids now know that they can't play on the Wii until their daily chores are done. This helps in two ways, first, they put pressure on me to identify the chores that need to be done - "Mom, what are my chores today?" - and second they get their chores done. We've also set lunch time as the goal before, ie: "You can eat when your chores are done." We used to have a point system and they could earn prizes. . . but it got difficult to manage and I got tired of giving them things. We need less stuff, not more. The system that has worked for us is a blank white board on the fridge. In the morning I will write 3 or 4 chores for each of them and they can erase them as they finish them. Each child works at their own pace. I've even started putting bath time on the chore list for my two youngest, because if I didn't make it happen, they would resist baths all week long.

Fourth, I have to be aware of which chores will require my assistance. If I ask one of the boys to empty the dishwasher, it's a no-brainer for them. They can do it without me. But if I ask them to clean the toilet, they need some instruction and supervision. However, if I continue to ask them to clean the toilet, I believe they will learn how and not need my help. I just have to be aware of what day it is, what my schedule is like, if we are going out and how much time they will actually have to do chores. By the way, when I first asked them to empty the dishwasher, it was hard for them, we started by having one do the top shelf and the other do the bottom shelf. We worked our way up to them being able to do the whole thing by themselves.

Fifth, I have to recognize when a task will be overwhelming. When our playroom (or any other room for that matter) gets out of control - toys everywhere, you can't walk through the room without tripping on something - I realize that sending them down their by themselves to clean it up will be counter productive. I will make that a "family chore" and we'll all go down and work together. Pretty much they work well for awhile, and lose steam in the order of their age - and then I finish the job. It's a compromise to begin to get them involved, but recognize when a job is bigger than they are. If I can catch it early, when the mess is smaller, they can handle it - but once it's HUGE, I step in and get it back to a place where they can be responsible to put away the things they get out.

And finally, what are the actual chores on our list? It varies from day to day. Some common chores: empty dishwasher, pick up clutter, vacuum, sweep, dust, wipe counters, clean their room, (which means to put things where they belong. I helped them establish a place for everything, and they're responsibility is to put things back in their place.) take out the garbage, roll the cans to the street and back. . . Some less common chores, but we've done them some: clean tubs, clean toilets, mop floors, clean windows, clean up the yard toys, sweep the front porch, organize a certain area. . .

Hope that's helpful as you continue to tweak routines to work for your family. Happy Tuesday.

Jen :)

Nothing much

2010-07-19T10:59:00.000-07:00

I wanted to have something profound to say today. All morning long I've wanted to sit down to the computer and have an absolutely witty, fresh look at some funny family happening. Since nothing inspiring has invaded my thinking, I decided to sit down and start typing and see what came out. So far, not much.

The only inspiration I have is to tell you exactly how it is in our home. Perhaps my honesty will cause some of you to breathe a huge sigh of relief and say, "Oh good, I'm not the only one." So, here goes.

It's Monday morning at 11:04. I'm still in my sweats - though I did get out for a walk this morning. I haven't started the laundry yet, even though it's my main chore for the day. My eldest miracle, who is motivated by Wii time, has already finished all his chores for the day and spent his 30 minutes playing Madden '09. My middle miracle, who is less inclined to do chores simply because I dangle a carrot out in front of him, has finished two chores but is still resisting the bath tub. It has been over a week since he's had a bath or washed his hair, and that week included day camp dirt, creek water and a chlorinated pool. His hair is minutes from dread locks. My pink-clad miracle has had her bath - after similar circumstances as her brother - but has not done any of her chores. I think she struggles to get her chores done because I don't ever follow through and expect her to do them. Every time I write down chores for the kids, I include her, and at the end of every day - when I check to see who has done their chores, I erase hers and go do them for her. Ackkk. That's poor parenting right there!!

I'm loving this weather. Seriously, I could live with this for months on end. High 90's is too much for me, but 80's, with a nice cool down every evening, is bliss! I love summer sun when it's not too stinkin' hot!

I think that's all I can pull off at the moment. Sorry for such a poor excuse for a blog post. At least it creates a little variety from the silly story about my stuck fingers. :) Happy Monday - Jen

Fingers

2010-07-16T11:57:00.000-07:00

It's been hot in our bedroom again this week. Not unbearably so, but hot none-the-less. We have two windows in our room, which create a nice, cool, airflow once the sun goes down. Most nights we go to sleep with the windows open, and at some point I have to get up and close them because of the noise from Broadway.

It's interesting, during the day, I don't notice much noise from Broadway. Yes, we live next to a thoroughfare, but for the most part all I hear are my kids, the washing machine, the beeper on the microwave and the cars in front of our house on 5th street. But late at night, when all the other noises of the day are quieted, the noise from the thoroughfare begins to creep into my conscious thoughts. One night at 2am it was a police officer on his speaker telling someone named "Michael" to do something. Other nights it's the train that barrels through Salem on a regular schedule. (You would be amazed how many nights I DON'T notice the train - you get used to it) Often it's sirens that I hear - day and night. However, last night it was a man's voice in conversation just beyond our hedge. It subtly settled into my brain and I woke, somewhat confused, wondering what was bugging me. Oh, it was the ongoing sound of a man's voice close to my bedroom window - unsettling!

I crept out of bed to close the window - somehow not wanting him to hear me shut the window. I don't know why. Maybe because I was in my nightgown. Maybe because it felt unnerving to have a stranger 15 feet from my window, and I didn't want him to know I was there. Maybe it was because Jeff was still asleep in bed. Whatever the reason, I was trying to close the bedroom window quietly.

I failed to mention earlier in the post that we live in a very old house, therefore we have very old windows. In the cottage, where we sleep, the windows are probably 60 to 70 years old. They are not replaced with new vinyl windows. They are old, heavy wood windows, and the internal weight that is meant to balance the window and make it easy to open and close was cut, or broken, long, long ago. These are the kind of windows that you have to grunt to open and put a stick under to keep open. They are also the kind of windows that are sometimes hard to close. So hard to close that at times you have to open them a little further in order to get them to go down.

Such was the case last night when I was trying to quietly slide out the stick that holds it up and gently lower the window down. It stuck, hard. I tried down, I tried up. It wasn't budging. I put a little more strength into it and it finally moved - up - hard. I quickly found myself in a position I've never been in before. The window had gone up so hard and so fast, that it had slammed my fingers against the top part of the window frame, and stuck fast. Both my hands were stuck and I couldn't get the window down.

In case you don't know this about me, I don't like the feeling of being stuck. I like freedom to move and wide open spaces to move about. I prefer a meadow to a forest - and I never plan to sleep in our four person tent again. The momentary panic of having both hands trapped a foot above my head in a window was quickly relieved by wiggling out my right hand. However, try as I might, I couldn't get my left hand free.

"Jeff" I said, "I need you." He was at my side before I finished asking, but he was dead asleep and it took him a minute to shake off the cobwebs enough to understand what I was telling him. "My hand is stuck. Do NOT push the window UP. It needs to come DOWN." He got the picture and tried to tug the window down, but it wouldn't budge. Any good husband worth his salt knows that when your wife has her hand stuck in the bedroom window at 12:30am, you do what it takes to get it out. My Farmer, being an excellent husband, banged hard on the window until it rattled loose and released it's hold on my fingers. While I was grateful to be released, my first thought was about the man in the alley and that he for sure would have heard that banging.

Undoubtedly the man in the alley did hear the banging, and was as startled to realize people were so near as I was to have him there, because I quickly heard a car door shut and the car drive off. As I fell back into bed, my brain went in a predictable direction: what to do in case my fingers ever get trapped again.

My imagination kicked into gear, and before I knew it, I had myself stuck with no kids home and not being able to get help. How long could I last there without food? How could I call 911 if my fingers were stuck in a window? And would it be appropriate to call 911 for such a trivial thing even if I could? I mean, having your fingers stuck in a window is hardly an emergency, unless you can't get unstuck!! And if the kids were home, what should I have them do? Obviously, they could bring me bread and water so I didn't starve - they truly are caring kids - but what would be the appropriate way to handle the situation? There's the question, again, of 911. It feels like overkill to me - but would I have my children going door-to-door on our street looking for a neighbor who would be so kind as to come to our house and try to loose me from my window prison? They could of course call My Farmer. . . perhaps that's the best solution.

The return of sleep saved me from needing to solve this problem at 12:30 last night. Things in the daytime are so much clearer. I think I'll just try to keep my fingers off the top of the window and out of the way of being stuck. What is it they say, "An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure?"

Too Many Messes

2010-07-14T22:41:00.000-07:00

When all the piles are piles of piles

And all the clutter is under foot

When children shed clothes throughout the house

And shoes are helter skelter

When my brain looks like my living room floor

And all the frayed ends are starting to unravel

It's times like these that I say, "Enough is enough.

There are too many messes!!"

So I grab a good book,

Or a blog post or two.

And sit on my couch

And write notes to you.

He's thinkin'

2010-07-13T19:23:00.001-07:00

So, we went out to eat tonight - my treat from the proceeds of the yard sale - and there was a baseball game on the telly. My Eldest Miracle spent the whole evening with his head on backward watching Ichiro and Jetter and who knows who else. When we were all done, he asked - more than once - for one parent to take the kids home and the other to stay at the restaurant with him so he could watch the game. Since Jeff needed to go back out to the farm and I can't split myself in two - though it would be wise to try, half of me could go running every morning and the other half could stay in bed - we proceeded to pay, tip and exit the restaurant.

Just as we were out the door My Eldest says to My Youngest Miracle, "Abby, do you need to go to the bathroom?" Now, you need to know that my youngest has a bladder of steel. There are days that she doesn't ever use the restroom from the time she gets out of bed until mid-afternoon. No matter where we are, I know she can hold it. So I was more than a little mystified at this suddenly over-attentive brother. Inevitably, by the power of suggestion, Abby started dancing and prancing and claiming, loudly, that she needed to go to the bathroom. It was truly a crisis. I could see that packing her into the car wouldn't be the wisest choice at the moment, so reluctantly I headed back into the restaurant and the restroom, with a pointed remark about the power of suggestion to My Eldest as I walked past him. That's when I noticed the grin pasted on his face.

My Farmer was the one who put it all together. I've got one thinkin' son. He figured out - all on his own mind you - that he could see more of the game if he could think of a reason to stay at the restaurant. Thus he suggested to his sister that she just may need to use the restroom before we went home. I should have punished him by making him go to the car, but instead I just let him watch more of the game while Miracle Number 3 and I visited the Ladies (you can tell it's the women's by the skirt) room.

Happy Tuesday. Jen :)

Kitchen towel

2010-07-11T09:20:00.000-07:00

Abby came into the kitchen last night at about 9:45 to tell me there was water on the bathroom floor. This comment was made at the end of a very long couple days. The yard sale had been a success - by that I mean the kids each made some money, I do not mean that I would do that amount of work for that amount of money again - my amazing and wonderful friend Sandi had helped me all weekend (we had such a great time visiting and letting our kids play together.) The heat, lovely as it is, had zapped our strength. I had had no time to do anything inside but make bigger piles since Wednesday and it looked like a tornado had swept through the house. Church last night was great, but draining personally as I spoke in our Shepherding group and had several significant conversations and prayer times.

By 9:00 last night I was 110% wiped out and My Farmer was still at the farm. I was dog tired. The kids needed food and bed, and the house was HOT. I was dragging around like a slug and trying to steam some veggies to nourish my weary body. Every action was an effort and all I wanted to do was drop into bed.

Such was the state of things when Abby informed me there was water on the floor in the bathroom. I wearily grabbed a kitchen towel and said, "Here's a towel sweetie for you to go wipe it up." Something in my worn out brain clicked into gear when she looked at that miniscule towel and said, "But Mommy, that won't stop it." Her word choice caught my attention. Why would a small puddle of water need to be "stopped?" I surprised myself by moving quickly just as Titus yelled, "Mom, it's flooding in the bathroom under the sink."

AHHHHHHH - I raced around the corner to the bathroom and there was HOT water spraying violently out from under the sink in every direction. It was already flowing out into the hall. I momentarily panicked. "How in the world do I stop this and what is going to happen to our entire house if I don't figure out how to stop this geyser?!!!" Jesus alone is responsible for me keeping my head at this point - for I had no internal gumption left.

I sprinted downstairs to our basement - where the hot water heater resides - shouting as I went, "Josiah. Towels. In the bathroom. FAST!" By God's amazing grace and the diligent help of Miss Marie, every towel in the house was clean and folded on the table at the bottom of the basement stairs. (This is because I had washed them all but not folded in weeks and Miss Marie had folded them all and left them ready for me to carry upstairs to their various homes.) I grabbed one stack and threw it up the stairs for Josiah.

As I rounded the corner for the hot water heater I saw a rain cloud pouring water on the office floor - soaking Abby's desk and spattering my scrapbooking supplies. "Ahhh, my pictures!!!" That concern was rapidly overcome by the second raincloud I observed beginning to spurt in the general direction of the computer. "Oh no, this could get really bad, the computer backup hasn't been working in the last couple weeks." Pushing the computer out of the way of the spurts, and throwing towels over the electronic set-up on the desk, I remembered the hot water heater. Precious seconds had been lost with my concern over the stuff that was getting rained on, and the rain was still gathering strength upstairs.

"Dear Jesus please help me," I prayed as I gave one last burst of speed through the laundry room, between the freezer and cabinet, to the dark corner with the water heaters. Locating the knobs - "Thank you Lord that Jeff has had me help with a few plumbing projects along the way" - I turned them both and heard the glorious, relieving sound of the spray in the bathroom subsiding. "Is it stopped?" I hollered upstairs. To which my amazingly competent, mature, growing-up-so-quickly son Josiah replied, "Yeah."

Oh, deep exhale. Check the computer table - still dripping. Try to mop up the drips and realize it would be more productive to get back upstairs and clean up the puddles that are still dripping through the floor to the basement. Josiah and I use every towel to mop up the very hot water that is contained better than I imagined possible. Back downstairs to check the computer - no more drips, WHEW! It's still coming down under the first raincloud however. Back upstairs to get everything out from under the sink and mop up that pond. Downstairs - no more rain. Hallelujah.

Kids in bed. Hot water off. Burst pipe discovered. Bathroom clean. My Farmer home. Using my steam cleaner to extract water from the carpet in the basement. . . I'm tired. Oh so very tired. One foot in front of the other. Not much talking. Words take too much effort. Veggies are done (Thank God I noticed the pans as I ran through the kitchen at one point and turned the burners off. Otherwise they would have been charred veggies and ruined pans.) I can feel the health enter my body as the first green bean goes down. Oh, how I needed food two hours earlier - better late than never.

As I collapsed into bed at 11:30, blissfully aware that it was Sunday in the morning and I could sleep to my heart's content, I chuckled to myself that I had handed Abby a kitchen towel to clean up that spouting demon. It was woefully inadequate. I wonder how many other areas of life I'm trying to stop a geyser with a kitchen towel? Hmmm.

Good question

2010-07-09T08:17:00.001-07:00

In an e-mail from a man I don't know whose wife I met for 4 days in West Africa in 2004 I read a great question today.

"Who have you asked recently, 'How can I pray for you?'"

Happy Hot Friday (if you're in Oregon)

Yard Sale and love deficit

2010-07-07T17:12:00.000-07:00

Just thought I would advertise my upcoming yard sale. Would love to see you this Friday (1-6) or Saturday (10-3) in my front yard. In the blazing heat. I'll have free ice water and a sprinkler running for those of you who would like a place to cool down. If you're interested, we're mostly clearing out kids' toys and stuff from the recesses of my basement.

Kids' Toys include, but are not limited to, CARS characters, DUPLO blocks, baby toys in good condition and some other miscellaneous items in varying stages of decay. :)

My mom is cleaning off her book shelves and has several boxes of classics - Readers Digest condensed stories and Christian living mainly.

There will be a smattering of clothes. From baby girl stuff to grampa's heavy overcoat.

Brand new - washed but never used - light blue twin bedding

A turkey flower pot

And much, much more - it's the sale you don't want to miss! :)

And besides all the good stuff you could get, it would just be great to see you and maybe visit for awhile. Whether you're buying or not, I'll be on my front porch this weekend - so stop by and say "Hi."

e-mail me at if you need my address.

Jen :)

p.s. I'm becoming more and more convinced that our world is experience a major love deficit. Forget the US National budget and the crisis of third world poverty. . . we are in a major black hole when it comes to loving each other. As I walk the streets, malls and parks of my city, I see faces that reflect a love deficit. Not sure what to do about it yet, but I'm convinced it's our main problem. All these people trying to measure up and nobody feeling loved. . . It's a deficit I tell ya' and it's a problem.

Vitamin D

2010-07-06T21:42:00.000-07:00

My very nice neighbor works at a local natural health food store. She is very knowledgeable on vitamins and supplements, and so we have had several great conversations about what the kids and I may need. In one of those conversations we were discussing Vitamin D. What I'm about to share is not verbatim - simply my recollection of a conversation - and should not be used to diagnose or treat any illness, depression, or otherwise untoward condition. :)

She was saying that we all need at least 15 minutes of sunshine a day to get our dose of Vitamin D. And it's not just any old sunshine - but specifically sunshine to our eyeballs, without any UV blocking sunglasses. I found that interesting, and tucked it away in my brain in the "interesting info" file.

As I was running today, with the evening summer sun streaming through the trees and into my eyes, I remembered the conversation about Vitamin D. About how we need to get sunlight in our eyeballs in order to be healthy. And yet, any person who has ever had sunlight in her eyeballs knows that it's not the most pleasant experience. Yes, laying with our eyes closed on an air mattress at the lake on a hot summer day, with the sun beating down on our sun starved skin and radiating heat through our closed eye lids is delightful. But may I point out to you that this pleasant experience is not increasing your consumption of Vitamin D through the eyeballs?

Sun in my eyeballs makes me squint, look down, glance up and quickly look away. I can't gaze, I have to glimpse. And that's when I thought that perhaps Vitamin D is a little bit like God. We need to see Him with the eyeballs of our heart in order to be healthy people. (see Ephesians 1:18) We need to spend time each day in His presence, with our eyes open, seeing Him and seeing the world as He sees it. And yet, as we gaze at His glory, it is overwhelming and mind blowing. He is beyond comprehension and the longer we gaze, the more we are aware of the glaring nature of our own shortcomings. He brings us all we long for, and yet we can only handle it in little snippets.

May He increase our capacity to gaze upon His beauty - to receive His love.

Saturday and Sustainability

2010-07-03T10:24:00.000-07:00

Just a glimpse at my Saturday because my posts have been long and heavy lately and it's time for something on the lighter side. :)

Saturday began late last night when I asked My Farmer what time he needed to be at work in the morning. It's becoming our ritual each night to figure out how each of us can squeeze in a workout in the morning. My options for this morning:

A. 5:30-6:30am

B. 7:15-7:50am

C. get a babysitter later in the day.

I opted for C.

I've had some computer work hanging over my head - namely, task lists and job descriptions for a newly formed leadership team with our Kids Worship Choir (KWC) at Salem Alliance. Your's Truly has bit off more than she can chew, and is co-leading this newly formed team with The Amazing CZ - staff member extraordinaire!! The Amazing CZ and I are teaming up to help make KWC a sustainable ministry. Something becomes sustainable, in my opinion, through team building and delegation - sharing both the responsibility and the reward.

The last few days my thoughts of KWC have been crowding out other things in my brain. That's my cue to stop procrastinating and start writing. So many things need to get accomplished, and often I just do them without writing down what I've done. However, that makes it difficult for next time, because nobody has a record of what it takes to pull off Kids Worship Choir. This, as you may imagine, does not lend itself to sustainability. So, this morning finds me - at 10:30am - still in my bathrobe, working diligently to put it all down in a Pages document. I even discovered Hyperlinks, which has filled me with wonder and created a desire to link every living document to something special.

The Miracles are downstairs playing Wii. Miracle Number One - aka oldest son - already did his chores to earn the right to play Wii, and Miracles Number Two and Three enjoy the privilege of watching him before their chores are done. Two of the three are fed, while myself and Miracle Number Two still need sustenance to start the day. Which, quite honestly, is what I should be doing at the moment.

My Farmer has been at work for two hours already, and will probably not return home until well past dinner tonight. If any of you have any great marketing strategies, or event planning connections, we're in the market for free advice regarding u-pick, community events and how many raspberry rows to plant.

Happy 4th of July weekend - Jen :)

Resting in Grace

2010-07-01T15:04:00.000-07:00

As you all know, I've been running lately. It feels great to have the energy and be in shape to do something I have always loved, but long neglected! I feel the need to explain why I mention it so much in my posts, before I talk about an insight from the trail today. See, when I'm running, there are no kids, and I have time to think. Need I say more? So many thoughts roll around in my head as I keep putting one foot in front of the other - and I often want to share them with you. Hope you don't get tired of the running analogies. :)

So today I was back at Bush Park - a large park in the center of Salem. A century ago someone was forward thinking and saved some farmland for parkland and it's an oasis in the midst of industrial, commercial and residential downtown. The outer lap around the park is 1.5 miles on a nice soft bark trail. The whole park sits on a gentle incline, so that the Southwest corner is the highest point, and the Northeast corner is the lowest point. Depending on which way you run the lap, you have a different experience with hills. Running clockwise, you have several small inclines, and then a really steep bit to get to the top. Running counterclockwise, you have a looooong stretch that's all incline - just gradually up for a long time. Today I was running counterclockwise.

I'm finding that if I pay too much attention to being on the hill, it makes it harder to run. If my mind is thinking, "I'm on the hill and this is hard work and see how hard I'm huffing and puffing," then the run gets significantly more difficult than if I'm listening to a song, watching the squirrels and not paying attention to the terrain. Just one foot in front of the other. No serious introspection, just keep going. So I've been trying to adjust my mental focus when I run. Rather than thinking through every dip and rise of the trail, I'm thinking or praying or looking at the beautiful trees and sky. It helps me keep going in strength.

However, there are moments when I notice how my body is feeling. I'm breathing hard and my legs ache and my arms are pinned to my sides and I think, "Man, I'm still out of shape, I can't even run a mile and a half without getting worn out." And then I notice where I am. I'm two thirds of the way up the loooong incline, and it's totally normal to be feeling the pain at that moment.

So, what does this have to do with resting in grace? Well, the way I see it, it's restful to do life from a place of more freedom. Not worried about every little thing, doing each day for each day's sake, and not being so introspective or investigating every jot and tittle. Just do it. As they say at Nike. And yet it is grace to notice what hill we're on. When we start to feel bad about ourselves, the jobs we're not getting accomplished, the list that never seems to get shorter, or the fuse that gets shorter every day, it's important to look around and notice our season of life. Are we out in the open, hot sun blaring, wind blowing on our face, 2/3rds of the way up the loooong slope, or are we on the downhill side, in the pretty woods by the stream, catching our breath? It's normal to be out of breath on the big hill, and it's necessary to spend time on the downhill side, catching our breath.

And the same is true in life. It's normal to get run down during the seasons of life that demand much of us, and it's necessary to have some time doing things that allow us to catch our breath. It's resting in the midst of the ups and downs of life, giving ourselves grace for the wear and tear we feel from the daily grind.

May you have freedom to run the race of life without over-analyzing, eyes to see the situation you are in clearly and realistically, and grace to accept your responses as honest and authentic living. You're o.k. The downhill side is coming.

Summer Rest

2010-06-28T20:50:00.000-07:00

Ahhhhh. . . . summer. I love it. I love not having to rush out the door for school. I love not having to go back to school to pick up the boys. I love that Titus can stay in his PJs all day if he wants to - and I love that I can sleep in a bit and still have quiet time before the kids are up. Did I mention that I love summer?!

A couple weeks ago I had a rough week. I was really wrestling with my thoughts and actions - feeling like perhaps I was slipping back into old ways of thinking - but not sure how to break out of it. By Saturday night I was an internal wreck. Externally I probably looked reasonably put together. If you had seen me, you may not have immediately thought, "Wow, what's wrong with Jennifer?" (unless you're Kara Brown, who sees through me like nobody's business. Kara knows when I'm struggling even before I do sometimes!!) But in my heart, mind and spirit I was all tied up in knots.

I went to church, but didn't feel like going to my class, so I just hung out in the halls. I was sitting on some comfy couches, kids in their classes, pretending to read a book but really wrestling with my thoughts when an incredible young lady walked by. We'll just call her Divine because I'm pretty sure it was a Divine Appointment - one of those times when God puts just the right person at just the right place at just the right time!

Young Divine and I shot the breeze for a couple minutes and then she looks straight at me and says, "But how are you?" in such a way that I have no choice but to say, "Crappy." She gives me the inquisitive raised eyebrow and I elaborate - "I've had a hard week and I'm struggling with some of my actions and whether I'm hearing from God." She basically gave me this look that said, "Duh" and asked "You? Why are you even doubting that you are hearing God's voice?" I took it all in - her comment and her facial expressions - and the clouds began to lift. Divine sat with me for 5 minutes, listened to my mental arguments and basically said, "That's a spirit of accusation, it's not of God, and it's a lie from the Devil." I knew she was right - and as quick as that I was feeling fine again.

All week I had been wrestling, and all week it was simply failing to recognize the condemnation of the enemy and confusing it for true conviction. I thought God was telling me to do something I didn't want to do, and I was in disobedience. But I was also confused about if God was telling me to do this certain thing, or if I was making it all up. But if I didn't do it because it was my will, then that's bad. But if I didn't do it because God wasn't telling me to, then that's good. If you're confused by this paragraph, then you have a tiny taste of what my life is like when I start spinning in spiritual circles.

What cut through the deception and cloud of condemnation was a divine appointment with a young lady who was seeing things clearly. Funny thing is, she wasn't where she was supposed to be either that night. She had a sense God told her to leave the church service, so she was hanging out in her dad's office, just waiting for our appointment. :) She listened to me, cut through the crap, and spoke truth to me. It changed everything.

The next day I realized that God has truly orchestrated a summer of rest for me. Rest from daily time commitments, rest from speaking engagements, rest from the grind of up early for school, and most of all, emotional rest from all of my striving. I sense a period of blissful rest - just being - not trying to figure anything out or further my journey of recent months - just rest. I don't have to DO anything - and for that I am eternally grateful.

Enjoy your summer - and if you happen to meet any confused friends sitting in unusual places at unusual times, perhaps you are "Divine" - God's vessel to listen, cut through the crap, and speak truth. Don't laugh, it just could be you - pay attention, He's creating opportunities all the time.

Go the Distance

2010-06-25T21:34:00.000-07:00

If you want to run, you have to run.

If you want to sing, you have to sing.

If you want to call a friend, you have to call a friend.

If you want to dance, you have to dance.

If you want to go the distance, you have to go the distance.

"Change doesn't come to those who need it.

Change doesn't come to those who want it.

Change comes to those who are willing to work for it."

Ric Smith

No Comparison

2010-06-24T17:34:00.001-07:00

My newly renewed enjoyment of running has led me to an unseemly discovery. It has exposed one of my strongest rooted weaknesses - that undying capacity to compare myself to others. Uhgg.

About a month ago I discovered that it no longer hurt my feet, ankles, shins, knees and hips to run. I know running is supposed to hurt - but not every bone and joint below my neck!! When I made this discovery, I began running three times a week. My early endeavors should not be truly counted as "running" really, but it was a start. My "only" opportunity to run was in the morning and the time available only left me with the option of a quick jaunt around a few blocks close to my house. On cement sidewalks.

One week ago today my feet, ankles and calves gave notice that they were done pounding the pavement. Having just rediscovered this love, and being completely unwilling to give it up when I'm feeling so good, I found another time to run and have gone down to Bush Park a couple times, which has a bark chip path. My feet and legs are happier, and I'm still running - which makes me very happy!

However, the difference between the neighborhood around my house and the running trail at Bush Park is that there are other runners at the park. As I run I pass and get passed. Some people are running the same direction as me - it's really embarrassing when one of them passes me - and there are those going the opposite direction - I pass them two times on either side of each lap.

so, here's the true confession - I'm awful. I won't even begin to tell you all the thoughts that run through my head about myself and others and as do what comes so natural to me and compare every living thing in the park. From size and speed to hair color and choice of running outfit - I notice it and compare.

This morning as I went out I asked God to give me a different way to deal with the noticing. I don't want to be a person who automatically puts people in boxes, so it was obvious that I needed to get rid of the boxes. The thing that came to me today was to notice and bless. God made us to notice things - but I take it to competing and comparing. This morning I noticed the woman older than me who passed me from behind, twice, and I prayed that God would bless her with healthy joints. I noticed the woman my age who was farther along than me each time we crossed paths and prayed that God would bless her with increase. I noticed the woman who was clearly out running to try to get back in shape, and I blessed her with perseverance. Rather than noticing and comparing, I noticed and blessed.

It was good.

Parenting Awareness

2010-06-23T08:04:00.000-07:00

Good morning blog friends. It's summer vacation, the sun is shining, and my kids slept in. What more can a girl ask for?

I don't really have time to post today - I've got to get the kids to VBS on time - but I have a quick thought I'm prompted to share with you.

About a month ago I was meeting with my Life Coach, Barb Burge, who is wonderful. She was asking me what I wanted to focus on for our session, and since I'd been pulling my hair out in the parenting realm, I asked if we could talk through some issues with my kids. She asks great questions about what I'd like life to look like, and how I think that would make things different, and what I would need to do to make those changes. I had to laugh in the middle of the session when she asked me what needed to change and I listed all these things I wanted the kids to change. She listening patiently and when I paused for breath, she quietly interjected, "Yes, and what would need to change in you?"

Aaccckk - you mean truly the only person I can change is me? It was so clear to me that if I want to have changes in the atmosphere in our home, then I must be intentional about my thoughts, attitudes and actions. Long story short, she and I set some goals for the next couple months. One of those goals is something I'm calling "Parenting awareness."

Each morning, as a part of my prayer time, I added a couple things to my list. I ask God to prepare my heart for parenting that day, and ask two questions:

1. Lord, what do I need to be aware of today?

2. Open my eyes and heart to what our kids will need from me.

It has been so amazing to see how God answers those prayers. I take time to be quiet and write in my journal some of the things I sense the Holy Spirit laying on my heart. Here are a few excerpts from the last few weeks:

- Rain, kids need a change of scenery

- Tye has a program, be prepared with an early dinner

- They are craving time with me, give them their choice of what to do

- School transitions are causing inner tension for the boys, be sensitive

- Love on them this morning, you'll be gone for a couple days

- Titus' life is changing drastically, for the good, but it's still a change and needs parental awareness of his vulnerability. Keep him close to you today.

- I am tired. My stress levels may be closer to the surface than usual. Don't try to do too much, sit with the kids, give yourself space, be sure to give Abby a quiet time, stick to family routines like chores.

- As school winds down, be aware of underlying emotion

- Being away from home all day means less gets done at home - be prepared to accept some mess.

- Abby will need you today

- Not be task oriented

And today's list - Hugs and patience, don't rush around in a hurry, make a family dinner, do chores, pray for Jeff.

This has been such an encouraging and amazing process. As I've been more aware of their needs, we are all living in more peace. I'm excited to see where this goes. And you, are you being intentional about the way you interact with your kids, or are the days just flying by? Each day is not a conduit to the next day, it's the day we've been given. Let's live each day with purpose and invest in the lives that have been entrusted to our care.

What we release

2010-06-22T16:27:00.000-07:00

Abby slept fitfully last night. Translation, I was up a LOT to cover her with a blanket, sooth her cries, sit with her when she just seemed to cry for no reason. . . It was a long night. She finally came to our room at 6:30am and fell fast asleep until 8:00 when Josiah woke her up so that we could get going to VBS.

Interestingly enough, I watched a movie last night in the room adjoined to Abby's. It was an innocent enough movie - I don't go for anything hard core - I think it was "The Little Princess." (I told you it was innocent.) It was a cute movie and I never would have thought another thing of it had Abby not had such a fitful night.

However, in the middle of the night, when Abby was half awake and half asleep, and I was fully awake and frustrated, I wondered if there was something in the movie that had been released into the spiritual atmosphere of our home. I started to think back through it, and there was an Indian witches' curse, a multi-headed fictional demon, a very nice, powerful Indian man who seemed to work magic, and a basic sense of fear and oppression. (until the happily ever after) Hmmm.

Let me restate that I thought the movie was cute, with a feel-good message. I don't really know if this particular movie had any spiritual impact on my daughter, or if she just had a rough night. However, I do firmly believe that we, as Children of God, release and cut off certain authorities in the heavenly realms. The Bible says our battle is not against flesh and blood but against the spiritual powers and principalities of this dark world. (See Ephesians 6) The weapons of our warfare are not the same as the world's warfare. Authority and power look different than what we anticipate. We need to be aware of what our thoughts, actions and words release in the spiritual realm.

Will we release shame, immorality, irresponsibility, blaming and selfishness - the fruits of the human body and mind - or will we release love, joy, peace, patience, purity. . . - the Fruits of God's Holy Spirit? I'm not really sure how this all works, and if watching a fearful movie can make my daughter have a fearful night, but I wouldn't put it past the Devil - the enemy who roams around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour. If my attitudes, actions, decisions and words give an opening for evil, then I need to rethink the way I'm living.

I didn't really mean for this post to be about the Devil, I had more thought of it as a call to be aware that what we choose to focus on will impact our home and family. So take it with a grain of salt and ask God if there's anything to it.

Summer Rest

2010-06-21T07:59:00.000-07:00

I love summer! Throughout the school year, my role as a mom is slowly becoming that of a taxi driver. Not full-on "soccer mom" yet, but it's getting there. One of the things I LOVE about summer is that I get to take off the cabby hat more often, and just hang out at home with my kids. Schedules and routines change, shift gears, for a few months. I love the feeling of a quiet house in the morning with three sleeping cherubs in their beds.

One of the challenges is to form new routines - summer routines - that help life not careen out of control, but maintain the beauty of days on end with no set schedule. So far I have two ideas. One is to be consistent with chores. Each day, we all need to have some assigned task to help the household flow and function. My current idea is to write them out each morning, and the kids just need to have theirs done by lunch time. We'll see how that goes. Another idea is to be consistent with dinner. This one is harder for me because My Farmer is home so rarely. It becomes so easy to just make Mac and cheese for the kids and call it good. I think it will bless our family, and add to a sense of rest, if they know they can count on sitting down to dinner whether Daddy's home or not. You can check back with me in a few weeks and see how this is going!

What about you? How will you enjoy the freedoms of summer while maintaining some structure for your family? How will you create space for creativity, togetherness, laughter and quiet? Whatever you do, do it intentionally, and don't let September catch you by surprise. Decide what you want to do and do it. Summer is yours for the taking. . . now if the sun would just come out!

p.s. I'm off to take the kids and my nephew to VBS, and then Basketball camp. Taxi!!

Quick explanation

2010-06-17T06:23:00.001-07:00

Thank you to those who completed a survey for My Farmer. Your responses were very helpful and I appreciated you taking them time to respond. Your nifty certificate for a free pint of berries is in process, and will be coming to your e-mail inbox soon. If you're wanting strawberries, give me a call - 503-589-7118 - and I'll set you up.

Speaking of strawberries, they are ready for u-pick. So come on out to the store any day and they'll get you going. They are $1/pound for u-pick, and a little more than $20 if you just want to come out a pick up a large flat of fresh picked berries. They have pints as well, but I haven't paid attention to all the pricing.

Happy Summer to you - can't wait until the sun catches up with the kids who are out of school!!

Rationalizing, Rehearsing and Replacing

2010-06-15T13:11:00.000-07:00

I have three "keys to rest" to throw at you rapid fire today. I should probably take my time and give them to you one post at a time, but I think I'll just go for it and see how it works out. :)

So, I'm finding this "walking in rest" thing to be very difficult. Good, but hard. Not, "I'm depressed and feeling low" kind of hard, but kind of "this is different than how I used to do it and I'm not comfortable in my own skin since God changed the rules." Actually, I shouldn't say God changed the rules. It's more accurate to say that He created an unquenchable desire for rest in my heart, and then once He had my attention, He explained it to me different. The rules are what they have always been. I, in the way I interact with the world, am not what I used to be. I don't do what I used to do. I don't like my old responses and I'm still looking for what my new responses look like.

It's this tension that feels uncomfortable to me - the knowledge that the way I've been doing life doesn't work, and yet without any solid ground under my feet yet about the new way to do life. I have ideas, but trying and learning them takes practice. I think the way to sum it up is that I find myself in the in-between place, wondering if the in-between place IS life, and not the transition from one way of doing life to another. What if the Way to do life is distinctly not formulaic? What if I'm not on the path from one place to another destination, but the path is the destination? And this question sends my mind scittering in many different directions at once.

This morning I was experiencing mind-scittering of grand proportions - which translates to rapid-fire thoughts, a general sense of anxiety, and underlying sense of question and confusion. What is the goal? Do I have to live with rigid rules like I did during my fast in order to have the sense of thriving that I've had, but is fading? How do you maintain that place of thriving? Are we meant to sustain thriving, or is life a procession of mountains and valleys - as I've been taught all my life? When Jesus said He came to give us "Life to the full," what did that mean and what does it look like? And if I sensed life to the full in April when I was being extremely rigid with myself and my activities, but I don't sense life to the full in June when I have let up on the regulations - then does the rigidity translate to "life to the full?" Or was there something else at work there? And if it is the rigidity of self-discipline, is that truly how the Lord wants me to live daily? And if so, that's hard. I don't really like it much. I'm hoping for the "easy" destination. I'm willing to do the hard work on the way, but I've been hoping that one day I'd arrive at a place where I no longer wrestle in my head and heart with myself and with God.

Now I know I'm rambling and if you followed all of that you're more than a saint, you're a spiritual intrapersonal expert. But let me sum up and get the rest of you back with us. I've been full of questions with no answers, and when it reaches a certain pitch, I have to find a way out or I'll go crazy. This morning I sensed God giving me some ways out - so I thought I would share them with you. (Yes, all of the previous paragraphs of this post were just the introduction.)

1. Quit rationalizing in my head. I have a tendency to think of what I want to do and go for it. In the back of my head/heart/soul something whispers to me that it's not the best use of my time and resources, but I rationalize my behavior with thoughts of restraint, quickness and that I don't do it all the time. I need to start treating my mind with Love and Logic like a child:

Brain "I think I'll go surf the internet."

Jen, "Feel free to surf the internet when you have all your work done for the day."

Brain, "But I'm just going to look up a certain thing and then I'll stop."

Jen, "Probably so, and you can feel free to do that when all your work is done for the day." Brain, "But you let me do it yesterday."

Jen, "Could be, and feel free to do it today when all your work is done."

Brain, (read this with a whiney child voice that escalates as you go) "That's not fair. I'm tired, I work hard, I deserve a break. I don't want to live this way with rigid regulations every day. That's just for the fasting month. Let me go read what I want to read when I want to read it."

Jen, "You might want to think about what might happen if you do that. . . "

You get the point. I think perhaps the verse in the Bible about taking every though captive could be best understood in this generation by explaining that we need to use Love and Logic against the rationalizing side of our brain. :)

2. Rehearse what I know to be true. When I get stuck in a cloud of confusion, the best way back down to earth is to return to what I know. It doesn't change the fact that there are unanswered questions in my head and heart, but it places my feet on solid ground again to rehearse the things that I already know - beyond a shadow of a doubt - are true. Things like God's goodness and love and faithfulness.

3. Replace Satan's counterfeit activities with God's good purposes for me. God is the Father of all good gifts. So Satan, who comes to steal, kill and destroy (John 10:10) takes God's good ideas, twists them, and offers us a counterfeit. The thing about counterfeits is that they look at awful lot like the real thing. Perhaps that's why this whole conversation can be so difficult. Reading a good book could be a great way to relax and refuel - a God-given way. It could also be a counterfeit from the enemy of our souls who wants us to funnel our attention away from a life-giving God and towards wasted things that have no value. I'm reminded of the 2 Chapter of Jeremiah where he talks about God's people rejecting God, the stream of living water, and building their own cisterns that held no water. They fell for a counterfeit, and so do I. What would happen if I had a list ready in my head of God's good purposes whenever a counterfeit desire hits. For example: I feel the need to get on facebook and see what other people are up to. Instead, I could pick up the phone and call a friend. OR, I'm having a hard day, emotionally feeling down and I want to eat a box of chocolates, I could get outside and go for a walk or pull weeds or busy myself with some productive activity that gets my mind off food. Perhaps I'm feeling angry and want to go lecture my child for the poor choices he's been making, instead I could find a journal and write my thoughts and ask God to give me parenting wisdom to weather this storm. Again, you get the point. Find what the true desire is and replace the devil's counterfeit with God's real and good purpose in your life.

That's all for today, folks.

Jen :)

Slipping and Belief

2010-06-11T14:36:00.000-07:00

You might want to wait until you have a few minutes, I feel a lengthy post coming on. Also, the picture with this post is completely unrelated just a smile from me to you! :)

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editors note - This has turned into a post that sums up my recent spiritual journey from start to finish. Forgive me for the places I have repeated what you already know. It was good for me to get it all written in one place. Thanks for being a reader. Today's post is perhaps more about my own processing than your reading - but I pray God enables you to glean something for your own journey.

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So, my journey to true rest that began in December has had 3 distinct phases. The journey began with recognizing that I was stuck and choosing to be still before God, even though I didn't know how to do this. I would say the key verse overall comes from Exodus 14:14, "The LORD will fight for you. You need only to be still."

The two places I found myself stuck were related to each other, but not exactly the same. One was that I had compulsive behaviors that I didn't like and wanted to change. Things like surfig the internet well past midnight, playing iPod games when the house needed to be cleaned, reading a novel in it's entirety in one sitting. Although I wanted them under my control, I continued to do them in out of control ways. I related to Paul who said in Romans 7:14-20 that he did what he didn't want and didn't do what he wanted to do. I had tried so many ways and strategies to change, but the bottom line was that I was stuck. The other piece of the puzzle is that I realized I did not know how to get true rest. I knew how to escape the demands of my life using my compulsive behaviors, but I did not know how to truly be still, to the point of being refreshed and renewed.

Jeff and I talked about fear - and being afraid of what we might find in the place of stillness. Because I was tired ALL THE TIME, and never changed my life habits to get un-tired, we had also talked about the idea of tiredness as a drug of choice. If people use drugs to dull the pain in their lives, then I was using lack of sleep to somehow dull the fear of an unknown pain. That became the focus of the journey for me, to be still long enough for God to expose the root of pain that I was running from.

Once I realized that I had problems bigger than myself, I set out in earnest to discover the roots of the problem. The first phase was difficult. Though God was showing me how much He loved me, it was through a valley of depression, confusion, weariness and waiting. I began to wrap my brain around some very unrealistic expectations I've had on myself. Since I've blogged about both the wrong goal and God's love, I won't go into too much detail here.

I'm not sure I ever mentioned it here, but beginning in March I began to have a feeling in my shoulders that intensifies whenever I sense God's presence. It's a feeling like someone is pulling my shoulders back and straight - like when my mom used to tell me to sit up straight, or stand straight and not hunch my shoulders. I feel this urge to stretch and straighten out my shoulders. We were at a conference when this started, and I didn't notice it for the first day and a half. On the evening of the second day it dawned on me that this feeling was new, and it was persisting. I asked God if it had anything to do with Him, and I thought He was saying, "I'm increasing your capacity to receive my love." Several times, in various situations, I have had this sensation over the past few months, and it has birthed a prayer in my heart. "God, increase my capacity to receive your love until I don't need or desire any of these compulsive distractions in my life."

That phase - which I'll call the Receiving God's love phase - was marked with struggle, stillness, clear messages from God, and eventually, a deepening sense of peace that I'm beloved, and don't need to be perfect.

Once it was settled that I am loved no matter what my behaviors are, God began to launch phase two. It was interesting that during the receiving love phase, God did not seem to be overly concerned with my compulsive behaviors. Yes, I was still doing them, but they simply served as a reminder that I needed to continue to allow God to do the deep work on my heart. It was as if I finally realized that the behaviors were not the real issue and I didn't need to keep beating myself up about them and striving to rid myself of them. Instead, I rested in God's keeping, and entrusted to Him the breaking of this strong hold in my life.

And when He set out to break the strong hold, boy-oh-boy did I ever know it. He was so loving and gentle with me. Never once did I feel condemned or jerked around. Yet He was very firm. He kindly - Romans 2:4 says that God's kindness leads us to repentance - put his finger on my weaknesses, my distractions, my escape routes, my compulsive behaviors, and began, one by one, to expose and uproot them. I've blogged some about that as well, so I won't go into more detail.

I will say that at one point in the journey of fasting from all the things God put on my heart to set aside for a month Josiah asked, "Mom, who says you can't have that desert?" It was an interesting question, based on the belief that I have the right to make whatever choice I want. In a way, he was right - it was within my reach to get a plate and a fork and eat that cake. On the other hand, I knew God had called me to an extreme discipline for a time - in order to release me from the invisible task masters in my life. I didn't want Josiah to think God was mean, so I hesitated to say, "God told me not to eat the cake." But neither did I want to miss an opportunity to share with my son about obedience and giving up what we want for the greater good. To share about short term willing self-deprivation for the sake of long-term good. My answer became (he asked more than once) "I believe God is leading me to not do/have certain things right now so that I can focus on Him."

The fasting phase I could also call the "breaking stage." Breaking habits, breaking thinking patterns, breaking the authority of sin in my life. It was a time of breaking. Others might call it pruning. It was good, so good, but not fun, so not fun!! And yet, as each day passed, I found it easier to say no to the bad and yes to the good. As a matter of fact, as my fast ended, I found myself thriving in life as I have not thrived in o-so-long. I was eating what I wanted, going to bed when I wanted, saying no when I wanted, pacing myself as I wanted, and all of this was so good for me. I was exercising, accomplishing things at home, present with my kids. It was a good place.

Which created a certain amount of fear about phase three, which I find myself in now. Phase three is the "live it" phase. The "take what you've learned and apply it to everyday life without rigid constraints" phase. If the personal breakthrough of phase two is the equivalent of the Israelites passing through the Red Sea, then phase three is the equivalent of heading out into the desert. The Israelites didn't have a very good track record in the desert. They kept wanting to go back to what they knew, to where they were comfortable. Slaves, but comfortable.

And that's what I feel like God has rescued me out of - slavery - and I don't want to go back. And yet I find myself desiring the things that I know, the escapes that are comfortable, the emotional "helps" that make me feel good, but don't fill my soul. I know my slave drivers drowned in the Red Sea when God delivered me through that fast, but I also know that old habits die hard. So while there is no authority telling me I MUST check e-mail 10 times a day, there is a habit in my heart that says, "But what if someone wanted to tell me something or ask me a question?"

In some ways I'm doing so well - I played tennis with Mom today and am in better shape than I've been in for y.e.a.r.s. (She still beat me badly, but I attribute that to the fact that Abby was there and was a distraction to my mental game.) I'm sitting here eating a salad with pepper, avocado, quinoa and no dressing as I type, and I prefer it to the chocolate cake sitting on my counter. (Mind you, the cake is 3 days old, made from a mix that was 3 years past the "best if used by" date) The kids are happy. Our home is reasonably clean, and I've gotten rid of tons of stuff by donating significant amounts to two good cause garage sales. (One more coming up at the Boda's.) I'm in a good place.

And yet I have this anxiety blowing in - like fog off the ocean - an unsettled feeling of dread that this too shall pass. That this thriving can't last forever and that I may very well sink back into my old ways of doing things. But, oh, I so don't want that to happen. I can't tell you how sick it makes me to think of going back there, even as my discipline slips through my fingers like sand. This morning I woke up with a sinking feeling (after going to bed later than I wanted almost every night this week and having an argument with God in my head about getting out of bed and spending time with Him before the day began) and went to my worship room to talk with God about it.

It was there that He reminded me that I can't do it. That's what started this whole thing. Back in December I found myself stuck, and in order to get unstuck I had to allow Him to fight for me, and keep myself out of it. Be still. And so it is with the way forward. Stillness. Trusting. Lifting my eyes to God. If I make it about my routines and good discipline, I will be back on the road to my bad habits in Babylon in the blink of on eye. Fear, compulsion, escape, tired, no rest. I don't want to live there!

So this morning God gave me a review of the things I've learned about the way forward. I call them my flowers in the desert. Here they are in no particular order:

- The way forward is NOT with some formula of do's and don'ts that I have to live by.

- The way forward IS:

-Coming to God every day for fresh "manna" for that day.

-Having a heart of worship - praying, praising, giving thanks, petitioning - Heart, mind and body responding to God.

-Living in gratitude

-Daily presenting myself as a living sacrifice and routinely laying down my desires for God's better guidance

-Praying in the Spirit on all occasions

-Knowing myself to be deeply loved

-Releasing the need to be perfect - renounce the slave drivers daily

-Surrendering my will to God's daily

Today I found myself slipping and I had to examine my beliefs. Do I think this positive place in life is only temporary - enjoyed to be mourned when it is lost? Or do I believe God is teaching me a new way to live and there is a way for it to be sustainable, even when I know I can't do it? So here is what I believe. Jesus said in John 10:10 that He came to give us life to the full. In Philippians 4 He promised us peace that passes understanding. In Eph 3 Paul prayed that we would know God's love. And in Romans Paul again prayed that we would overflow with joy and peace as we trust in God - overflowing with Hope.

So that's how I press on to live my life. Not out of my own effort and goodness - I've already failed at that and have full confidence I would fail again if left to my own devices!! But flowing out of a place of promise and rest, I look to God - acknowledging Him as the source of all good in my life - and take life one day at a time. Oh how I want to continue to live differently, and oh how it will have to be a different solution than anything I have ever tried before.

My farmer needs help

2010-06-08T21:40:00.000-07:00

Hi all - Happy Tuesday night to you. My farmer and I can't go to bed until we solve the world's problems, or at least figure out how he's going to handle "Pick your own" or "PYO," aka "u-pick." He's got strawberries, Blue berries, and Marion berries. He also has multiple-site syndrome, which means the berry fields are spread out in various locations around the farm. There is a farm store, Willamette Valley Fruit Company, which is centrally located, and 3 main PYO fields within a two minute drive from the store.

So, here's where you come in, so that we can go to bed - sleep in peace - and know that we will have answers by morning. Because my readers are so awesome and they stay up all night to check and see if I've posted something new and witty. :) But I digress.

We have a little informal survey for you to take. It will only take four or five minutes of your time and would be so beneficial to see how other people think. We're turning our brains inside out talking this thing in circles, and it's time for an outside opinion. Plus, as an added 10pm bonus, My Farmer will give a free pint of berries of your choice to anyone who responds before midnight on Saturday, June 12. Just post your answers to the survey in the comments section, with an e-mail address if I don't have it already, and I will send you an e-mail with a really snazzy certificate and instructions for your free pint.

Here it is, with no further ado:

1. Does there need to be an attendant in the field, or does a sign with a cell phone number saying, "Call for assistance" work? In this scenario there would be instructions given and posted at the store, but no person in the field.

2. Do the PYO fields need to be open on the weekdays, or are weekends enough?

3. The store would like to streamline and simplify the PYO process as much as possible. One idea is for the store to sell 2 sizes of containers whose value in u-pick berries has already been determined. This would eliminate the need for people to bring empty containers to weigh in and return with their full containers for weigh-out. If you were u-picking, would you be willing to purchase reusable pre-paid containers, or is using your own free container an inalienable right to u-pickers? (Does it make any difference if the container is provided free of charge?)

4. My Farmer intends to plant a small patch of various varieties of other berries somewhere in the vicinity of the store for future PYO convenience. The location of this patch has been a quandry for months now. The best location, for a variety of reasons - view from the store, irrigation, long-range field planning - is across the street from the store. This road is not currently "busy", but farm trucks do come in and out to deliver fruit, and those who drive by go exceptionally fast. My Farmer is concerned for the safety of people crossing the street with berry trucks rumbling by. Do you think it would be adequate to have signs on the fence that say "no foot traffic please" and instructions to drive over to the field, or do you think people would jay-walk anyway? In your opinion, would this safety concern be enough of a reason to keep everything connected with the farm store on the same side of the street?

Thanks for you time - happy survey taking - remember, for those of you who have never commented before, you can click the comment button and proceed as "anonymous." Just be sure to give me your name and e-mail address if you want that free pint of berries.

Jen :)

Running Parables - volume one

2010-06-08T08:03:00.000-07:00

I've been running lately. That may come as a shock to many of you. Quite honestly, it's been a bit of a shock to me. If you've only known me for the last 15 years, you may not even know that I used to be a runner. Not a "runner" in the sense that you're thinking. I didn't do marathons or half-marathon or even 5K fun runs. I was a sprinter. Run fast. Stop. Run fast. Stop. None of this jog-till-you-drop stuff!!

Be that as it may, I've now returned to my roots and taken up jogging. Funny thing - at age 38 and having been out of shape for 14 years - it doesn't work to go down to the local track, put on your spikes, and take off at full speed. A person can hurt themselves. So I've been jogging from home, gradually adding more time and distance. I confess to loving it and being thrilled that I'm physically in a place where I can do it.

As I run, I have an abundance of amazingly profound thoughts. I often think, "Oh, I need to go home and blog about that one," but by the time I've huffed and puffed home, got a shower, helped the kids get ready and out the door to school and cleaned up from last night's mess - I've generally forgotten that I went running in the morning, let alone having had any profound thoughts. Today, however, I remembered, so here it is, with no further ado.

For the last 9 years I have had to run with a stroller. The other day when I was running, I was reflecting on how much easier it is to run now that I'm not pushing a stroller with my two good arms. Arms were made for pumping when a person runs, not pushing a stroller. So having them extended in front of me holding onto a large rolling object interferes with both my stride and

my rhythm. Using my arms as they were created to be used, has made a huge difference in both my ability to run, and my enjoyment of the activity.

So, here are my two life lessons about arms and running today. The first is that we have to accept and give ourselves grace for the season of life we are in. I'm no longer pushing a stroller, which makes running easier. I need to give myself grace for the 9 years I really didn't run much, because that was the season I was in. You may be pushing a "stroller" in another area of life - that just makes it harder to do what you need to do. Accept the stroller season, and give yourself grace. It's good to know our limitations and live within the boundaries of our season of life. It makes life more free. Don't beat yourself up for what you can't do - or the energy you don't have because you have to fight hard for what you accomplish each day.

Second - the body of Christ is kind of like a runner. And if that runner doesn't have arms, it doesn't function very well. I believe the Church has formed denominations around body parts. Let me explain. :) We tend to congregate with those who think like us and act like us. But Jesus said we are a body and we need each other. The eye can't say to the foot that it's more important, neither can the hand function if it has no arm. So while preaching unity, the church has divided over it's body parts. The brains formed an intellectual denomination, the hearts/emotions formed a charismatic denomination, the hands formed a social justice denomination and the moral conscience formed conservative denominations all over America. We are weak because we are only body parts. What would happen if the mind, heart and will all engaged together and formed a body that was all at the same time intellectual, emotional AND active in social justice. The theology would be sharpened by the experiences of worship, and worship would be purified by good theology. The activities of the church would flow out of love and grace. Morality is upheld because of desire rather than obligation - and we have a sort of "checks and balances" that God designed.

When we leave out a body part - or make it push the stroller - we weaken the structure that God intended for the church.

May I have this dance?

2010-06-07T14:49:00.001-07:00

So, that phrase, which is now painted in pretty letters on my wall, was birthed in my heart during a very difficult time. In the midst of my self-imposed sabbatical from all the distractions in my life, we had a worship night at church. I had really been wrestling with God about the limits I sensed He was wanting on my computer use, eating habits, etc. . . It was a season of pruning in my life, and it didn't feel good.

On the other hand, it was a season in which I had complete confidence that God was doing something big in my life. The reason I had the courage and perseverance to willingly submit to His radical limits was because He had so clearly demonstrated His love to me, and I knew He wanted to heal the hurt places in my life. Even while I was wrestling with the rigidity of it all, I was rejoicing in the change that was taking place in me.

It was in that state of mind - both wrestling and rejoicing - that I went to a Friday night worship time at Salem Alliance. It was a beautiful time of meeting with the Lord - and I was blessed in so many, many ways. It was in that place of worship that God spoke something profound to my heart. As I stood in worship, I felt as though I was in the throne room of heaven. In my mind I saw Jesus standing in front of His throne, the Father sitting in His.

I should interject and say that when I "saw" this, it's not as if it were a clear vision in my mind. I didn't see as with my eyes, but with my heart. With a sense of knowing who was there, more than seeing who was there. I know that's a little bizarre, but it's how I sometimes relate with God.

So, I knew myself to be worshiping at the very thrones of God, and Jesus was loving me. He was just gazing on me with love - receiving my worship. The Father was pleased. He was over the top excited that Jesus had conquered sin and made a way for me to be with them. It wasn't like my old picture of a stern father who begrudgingly accepts payment for my sin - but rather a picture of a father at a sporting event, roaring his approval to his children below the stands. It was a touching time for me, as I sensed God's pleasure, both in the work of His son to bring me home, and His pleasure in me. Just because.

At some point in the worship set, I imagined Jesus stepping forward and saying, "May I have this dance?" And I somehow knew that the dance was life, and He wanted to lead me. That's when it all came clear to me. In dancing the man leads, and the woman follows. She doesn't decide the steps they are going to take, he does. It can seem like a bummer of a role for the woman. And yet, if the man is a pure-hearted man, his goal is always to make the woman shine. He chooses the moves they will make and the path they will take in order to give her room to move and expose her beauty. The man leads, and the woman shines.

I sensed that was the kind of dance Jesus was inviting me to enter. A dance where he leads and sometimes the moves can seem difficult to me, even frustrating or confusing. I can't see through the crowd, let alone the next corner. But Jesus knows all the steps, all the other dancers, all the corners in the path, and He knows me. He knows my strengths and my weaknesses. He knows what is required of me and what I have to give. He knows. And He was extending His hand to me, saying, "May I have this dance?"

It was in that place that I quit wrestling with God over what seemed harsh restrictions in my life, extended my hand to Jesus, and said, "Yes, you may have this dance." In essence what I was saying was, "Jesus, I trust you with my life. You can lead me down any path. You can prune me any way you see fit. I know your heart is to bless me and make me shine. And you, better than anyone else, know my true beauty and how to expose it. So, yes, you may have this dance. I will follow You."

The writing on my wall in my worship room is simply to remind me each day that there is an invitation extended to me - and I have the amazing opportunity to step into the dance each day - living the way I was created to live. Thriving in the beauty that is mine in Christ. I smile as I write and wish I could explain better to you what a spacious, amazing, soul-filling place God has led me to. Truly, I can say with the Psalmist, "He makes me lie down in green pastures, He leads me beside quiet waters, He restores my soul."

Worship room

2010-06-03T10:38:00.000-07:00

I painted letters for 3 hours yesterday. It was painstaking work, but it paid off well - I'm happy with the results. There's a story behind that phrase which I'll tell you soon, but for today I just want to introduce you to my worship room. What you see here, obviously, is the piano. I love to steal chord charts from our worship leader after the service and bring them home to play for my own personal worship times. In fact, the worship team has become accustomed to me rummaging around in the worship music on the stage after church. :) The door to the left of the piano goes to my yellow sunflower room, and our bedroom.

Here you see the top of the bookshelf in my worship room. This is significant because Jeff gave me that "Dance" thing and you have to know that I used to believe I couldn't dance. Then I read a book called "Giraffe's Can't Dance," and the book, as well as God's Spirit, taught me that I'm a dancer at heart - even if I never learned how to keep the rhythm or do the moves. So the fact that Jeff affirms my dancing heart, is such a gift of love and speaks deeply to me - both as a wife and as a worshiper. The colorful ribbon is attached to short sticks that we call ribbon twirlers. We all love to wave ribbons when we worship - just be careful that nobody pokes an eye out :)

This love seat has become a most prized, holy, place for me. The couch was a gift from a friend, which makes it like sitting in a hug. Hidden behind the couch is one of those circle radiating heaters that makes you feel like you're sitting in front of the sun. Every morning - usually when it's still dark out - I stumble out to the couch, wrap myself in that amazingly soft brown blanket you see, pull out the sunshine, and have "quiet time" with God. It's too bad that phrase can't possibly sum up what precious time I have with God on this couch. It seems I'm never ready to leave when the alarm on my cell phone rings - telling me it's time to wake Josiah up and start my day. Some of the things I do on the couch - be still (but that's dangerous in the early morning because it's easy to nod off), write in my journal (which is really a dialog with God), pray for my kids and Jeff and friends and whatever else God brings to my heart, sing, read my Bible, read a devotional book. . .

And this corner I show you to invite you to come join me sometime. Not in the early morning, but sometime, for a cup of tea and a chat. I love my new room and the space it gives me to be me - and that includes friends. So bring your kids, we'll lock them in the other part of the house with Abby - and we'll have a perfectly delightfully quiet conversation in my sunshiney worship room.

Fire Hydrants

2010-06-02T15:41:00.000-07:00

Did you know there are approximately 83 fire hydrants if you drive from 965 5th Street, out Sunnyview to Pratum, back through town on Market and return to 965 5th Street? I didn't either. And I drive that route - or something very similar - almost every week day. But let me tell you, once someone in the car starts counting fire hydrants - you notice one on every corner. It's amazing, they jump out at you.

These insignificant (unless your house is on fire) road adornments go unnoticed all the time. I'm positive I've trained my eyes to see right through them. I simply Never notice them. Until Abby started saying, "Fire Hydrant" every time she sees one. Now I see them everywhere.

I wonder if there is a spiritual application to that. I'm sure there is, but I don't really have time to figure it out. Maybe you can tell me what it is!! I bet we could come up with a lot of different ideas!

I've been painting in my worship room today. It's awesome - I'll tell you about it some time and post a picture.

9730Babylon

2010-06-01T13:40:00.000-07:00

In skimming through Bible verses about rest, I ran across this in Jeremiah 50:34: "Yet their redeemer is strong; the LORD Almighty is his name. He will vigorously defend their cause so that he may bring rest to their land, but unrest to those who live in Babylon."

It reminded me of this sermon by Josh Mann a couple months ago. When he preached it, I remember sitting there and thinking, "How can this sermon so closely resemble my life?" What is off in my life that takes me to not good places? What do I keep doing that I can't change? Where am I living in Babylon?

For me, today, Babylon represents a place of captivity and bondage. A place of being stuck where we don't want to be. I believe this is what the Lord has been delivering me out of. He has miraculously moved me from a place of slave drivers and task masters, to a place of freedom and rest. This journey to find true rest has led me through deep waters, hard work, and rigorous soul searching - yet has brought me to a spacious place. A place of freedom and rest.

So, would I rather live in Babylon - because it's what I know and am comfortable with - or will I have the courage to change so that I can live in the land of rest. This verse says God will vigorously defend my cause, and that it is He who bring me rest. I have found that to be true.

Do you find yourself harried and frustrated? Do you find life is driving you mad? Do you feel like your days just fly by at such a pace that you can't even keep track of which way is up? Do you ever have to answer the question, "How are you?" with "I don't know?" Are you stuck in ways of doing life that you no longer want to do? Are there slave drivers in your head? Are you living in Babylon?

How do you get out? Let the Lord fight for you, and be expectant for the coming of His rest. It's not easy. It's counterintuitive. It may be hard to explain to people in your life. But it's worth the journey. Put on your backpack and join me - I'm on the road just outside of 9730Bablylon.

postscript: Sometimes this blog is a great tool, and sometimes a weak excuse for personal interaction. Just want you to know that I welcome conversation and connection regarding this topic or others. I love going out to Ike Box and chatting. I love to go for walks and talk. I enjoy visiting on the phone. And I increasingly love praying with people. So feel free to be in touch.

Assumptions

2010-05-31T20:55:00.000-07:00

I'm feeling a little sheepish tonight. You all know the saying about what happens when you assume. . . well, I did that today. Seems I heard a terrible put-down coming from the football field of our backyard today. Not being one to put up with either of my sons being insulted, I wearily rose from my chair and headed outside to give the offending son a time out. I called his name, sent him to his room, silenced all protests (which were loud) and solved the problem. I then gave the other son a great pep-talk about how great he is and that he should believe the best about himself and that he doesn't have to stand there and take it when someone is insulting him. It was a great pep talk.

About 10 minutes later when I finally went inside to do business with the offending son, I decided to be a great parent and keep my lecture short. "Son, you may not say words like 'horrible' when you're talking about the way your brother throws the football. We're going to talk kind to each other and put downs are not encouraging."

He then said, "Can I talk now?" And proceeded to explain that what I overheard from inside was not him saying his brother had made a horrible pass, but that the pass he had just thrown was horrible. As in "I just made a horrible throw."

Oh bother, why does being a parent have to include humble pie?! I verified with the offended son that he was not actually offended at all - just confused as to why Mom stopped the football game only to lecture him for 10 minutes about how great he was. I returned to the timeout bedroom to apologize and ask forgiveness. . . it seems life is a series of wins and losses - but I suppose if you love one another, it can be a win-win.

A simple childhood song

2010-05-27T14:43:00.000-07:00

Do not post, publish, copy or distribute.

I have a little story to tell, but I wouldn't want it to spread too far or someone might get in trouble. I was at a public school today which will remain unnamed. This school was having a "move up" day - welcoming Kindergarten students and any other kids who will be new in the '10-'11 school year. Since Titus will be a new 2nd grade student at the aforementioned public school, we were attending move up day in the "Little Room." The Little room is for Kinder-2nd grade. The teacher, Mrs. B, is a loving, creative, fun woman. Move up day consisted of two crafts - gack and bead necklaces - an obstacle course, recess, snack and carpet time. Who wouldn't want to go there with that kind of introduction day?

So at carpet time the teacher led in a rousing rendition of "Down by the Sea." As she solicited other songs to sing, one small Kindergarten boy raised his hand and said, "Jesus Loves Me." Now, I have been impressed with so many things at this school. The families are so committed, the community is so supportive, and the teachers are fantastic. It's not just a great learning environment, it's a great living and growing environment. But when this little boy suggested that the class at the public school should sing "Jesus Loves Me," I was waiting to hear how the teacher would deflect the request, or turn him down. What I heard instead surprised even me. Mrs. B of the unnamed public school said, "O.K. let's all sing Jesus Loves Me," and the little room kids proceeded to sing a simple, innocent, truth-telling childhood song.

There were parents in the room. There were other kids. There were other staff members. I don't know if Mrs. B is a Christ follower or not, but I do know that she made my day.

Listen to your body - Key #2

2010-05-27T06:25:00.001-07:00

Hey all - just a quick note this morning to pass on a little tidbit. In the midst of my month with no distractions (o.k. it's impossible for a mom to have no distractions, so let me clarify that by that I mean, "No willful, personal behavior distractions,") I had a lot more space to notice things. When I wasn't just rushing through life, or filling my days with drivel, I found that my attention was drawn to things I previously missed.

Have you ever noticed that if you sit at the computer a long time you have to go to the bathroom? Or that when you've stayed up late at night you are tired? It's interesting, our body is sending us messages all the time, and we miss them. I found that one key to rest is to listen to my body.

If my bladder says I need a break from what I'm doing, then I will take a break from what I'm doing. It's interesting how much more productive I can be when I don't have this incessant urge to pee as an underlying companion to my project.

If my stomach says I'm hungry, I will stop what I'm doing and go get a meal. It's amazing how fast I slide downhill when I ignore the physical prompts to re-nourish my body. I call it "melting." I just melt.

If my whole body says I'm exhausted, then I'm going to stop what I'm doing and either go to bed - if it's nighttime - or sit in my big comfy chair until something requires me to get up. Sometimes I'm only in the chair for less than 2 minutes, but I find it a good practice to recognize that I need rest and make the choice to sit, even if I can't stay long. At that point, it's not really about the physical rest accumulated, but about the mental recognition that there is something I can do about how I feel.

So, that's it for today - listen to your body, I think you might find it's a more restful place.

A goal

2010-05-24T16:26:00.000-07:00

I've found that I work in spurts. I'm not a very good routine follower. I do way better when I have a reachable goal and do life in short segments at a time. For example, when Josiah's school was having a garage sale - I organized, sorted and delivered an entire truck load of boxes of stuff we've been storing for years. However, once the sale was over and I had no goal, I once again wallowed in the mire of clutter and stuff that I no longer need. The purging slowed down when I had no goal.

Now I have a new goal and the cathartic process of ridding my house of stuff is back on. I'm lovin' it!! Today I worked on kitchen gadgets and Bob the Builder Duplo blocks. Tomorrow it's the basement, or maybe back to the shed. I love having a goal that has a reasonable time frame and an attainable end.

So, what's my new goal? Here's a little shout out for my friends Erik and Jeanne-Anne Williams. They are having a garage sale this weekend to raise money for their adoption of two Ethiopian orphans. Good cause!! Good people!! Good goal.

Hey, if you want a reason to do a massive de-clutter this week, go for the goal and donate some stuff. I'll even help transport it if that's the deal breaker for you!!

Happy Monday. :)

Of Love and Power

2010-05-24T06:00:00.000-07:00

In my sophomore year of high school I took a Geometry class. I don't remember much from High School (especially not History) but I remember that in Geometry we had to prove things. Forgive me if you're a math major for what I'm about to butcher, but I'm going to do it anyway. A proof, as I recall, was writing out how I came up with my solution. So if the question was the degree of a certain angle, I had to write out how I found it. For example: If the length of these two sides are X and Y, then the length of the third side must be Z. And if the length of the third side is Z, then the angle of X and Y must be A. And if the angle of X and Y is A, and the other angle is given as B, then the angle I've been asked for must be _____.

Forgive the letters - for those who hated math, just skip down and ignore what's previously written. It's not important to understand, it's just how my brain was working yesterday when I was thinking about God and power and love.

The thought ran through my brain that love is the greatest power on earth. And as nice as that thought is - and with as many songs as have been written about it - I wondered if it was really truth. I mean, God is the greatest power on earth. And then I remembered that God said, in 1 John 4:16 that He is love. So then my brain jumped to geometry proofs. If God created all we can see and all we cannot see with the mere Word of his mouth, if he breathed life into Adam by forming him from the dust and blowing on him, if he sustains the universe by his presence then He is unquestionably the most powerful force in the universe. And if He is the most powerful force in the universe and He says that He is Love, then Love is the most powerful force in the universe.

What's interesting about this to me is the difference that we find between the spiritual world and the physical world, and when there is crossover between the two. For the most part, when we think of power, we think of the physical world - weight lifters, cranes, rocket launchers or atom bombs. Perhaps we think of social power - wealthy people, CEOs, pimps, presidents. . . Or maybe we even recognize relational power - manipulation, abuse, encouragement, or even love. We can clearly see "who has the power." Or can we?

Yes, we can see the kingdom shapers and world movers. We can see the gurus and the famous and the politicians and clearly see the impact they have on society. But is there an intangible that's even more powerful than all that wealth and position have to offer? Is it possible that a word, a concept, an untouchable idea in the realm of spirit and emotion has more power packed in it's little finger than all the world can imagine? What I'm supposing is that love, an intangible concept, has a physical reality - as is evidenced in the world around us.

What about the young girl who loves her elderly neighbor, and so gives hope and laughter and light in the waning years of life? What about the small family that loves the children from next door, and so provides an example of faithful marriage, healthy family, and following God? What about the young man who befriends the young boy and keeps him out of drugs and gangs and using girls? How much difference is made in the world around us through the power of love?

Yes, an atomic bomb can blow up an entire city and devastate a region, but what kind of power would it take to change that region into a people group demonstrating peace, hope, love, kindness, generosity and so much more? Yes, local authorities have the power to lock up violent offenders, but what kind of power could transform those violent offenders to peaceful citizens who give back to society in blessing? Yes, world governments can make decisions that impact policy for years to come - even the global economy - but what kind of power would it take to create true peace talks between the Middle East and Israel? It's the power of love.

If one person would love one person, who would love one person, then people are having restored hope, a view beyond their own meager existence, relationships that provide accountability and opportunity. If one person would love one person who would love one person, then leaders begin to function out of compassion for their fellowman, and not out of selfish ambition. If one person would love one person who would love one person - we could change the world one person at a time.

It's honestly not possible for me to single-handedly bring world peace, but it is my job to love the people God has put in my life. And the advances made in the spiritual realm when I do battle with love as my sword, just may be advances that will echo through history in the physical realm, reaching far greater than I could ever hope or even imagine.

The promised dirty laundry story

2010-05-23T06:00:00.000-07:00

So, for my dirty laundry story.

I went out to "Ross's shed" today (this story was written a couple years ago). This is a shed out at the farm that used to belong to the neighbors, the Ross family, and now belongs to Jeff's family. Thus, the name "Ross's shed". Jeff has had the use of this shed for a number of years. So, as we have moved twice in the last 4 1/2 years, we have had a rotating set of boxes out there. It's great storage space, and we keep our Christmas stuff out there, our high school memorabilia, summer kids' toys. . . you name it, if we ever owned it, and it's not in our current home, it's in Ross's shed. There are a couple things I've been missing for the last couple years. Occasionally I've asked Jeff to look for them, but he's had no luck finding them. I happened to be out at the farm tonight with a few minutes to spare, so I drove over to the shed, left the heat on in the van for the kids, and ran inside to the mountain of boxes, bags and spiders. After climbing over a patio chair, scraping my hand on a ping-pong table (or it might have been the window blinds), and shooing away a few spiders, I found one of the boxes I was after - buried away at the back of the shed, behind the electric piano, under Mom's old wedding doll, and to the right of the nice bedding in black bags. It's that nice bedding in black bags that birthed this story.

As I was searching for my box of African pillows, quilts and wall hangings, I saw a pile of black garbage bags. Thinking maybe my treasure had been packed in a garbage bag instead of in a box, I decided to check out the bags. One had wet suits. Two or three had pillows and a down comforter, and a final bag was a mystery. It was taped shut and I didn't want to rip into it and then have to reseal it. I lifted it - it was heavy. I looked at it - it gave me no clues. And then I saw the large, clear plastic tape that sealed it. I remembered in our last move that I had used a permanent marker to write the contents of the bags on the tape. So, leaning over in the fading light and straining to see - I read these words, "Dirty Laundry." Dirty Laundry?!!!! What do you mean dirty laundry? I tore into the bag to see what could possibly be inside - and do you know what I found? Dirty Laundry!!! :)

I'm still laughing at us! The last time we moved it was January of 2006. It was just after Christmas and life was a blur. We were packing all of our stuff and then going on vacation for a week (because we didn't know where we were moving to yet - that's another long story). I must have had some clothes that didn't get finished - and instead of packing them in a suitcase, I put them in a black plastic bag labeled "dirty laundry", that got unloaded with the nice bedding in the far corner of the shed.

The funny thing is that we NEVER missed it. As I sorted it tonight - we solved a few mysteries. One has been the lack of sleepwear for Jeff. He used to have so many T-shirts, and for a year or so he has had so few. I couldn't figure out if he made some rags, or made them work shirts, or what? They were in the dirty laundry for two years. The other bummer was that there were a bunch of Christmas clothes - nice pants for the boys, pajamas, shirts. . . so new that we didn't even remember to look for them!! The good news is, all Josiah's new stuff will still fit Titus! :)

So tomorrow I'm doing laundry - and I'd like to encourage all of you to keep track of your dirty laundry and not leave it in the shed for years!

With love and laughter - Jen :)

Favorites

2010-05-22T08:32:00.001-07:00

I haven't posted pictures in awhile, so I thought I would post some recent ones of our family.

Easter 2010

Tye and Abby

Josiah and Abby

Awesome 3000

Yours truly

Not perfect, Beloved

2010-05-20T06:13:00.000-07:00

I've changed my life goal recently. Unbeknownst to me, my previous life goal was to be God. In my attempts to always say and do the right thing, to always be to others who they needed and solve their problems, and most of all to be perfect, I was seeking to fill the longings in my soul by meeting the longings in the souls of others. Well, when you get right down to it - trying to solve the problems and meet the longings of others is trying be God in their lives. For He is the only one who can save.

So I've spent some time getting over my Savior complex. It helped once I knew it was there. Funny thing about blind spots - you can't see them! This is perhaps the most important discovery of my last 6 months - the truth that I had a life goal that was completely unattainable. So I decided to switch goals.

I asked God what He thought of me, and who He calls me to be - presuming He agrees that "perfect" is not His call on my life - I had this deep sense of being loved, and the word "Beloved" just kept being impressed on my mind. So, I've decided that being Beloved is what I'm called to be - and it's such a great life goal because it's already attained. I just have to learn how to walk in it, rest in it, and live from it.

With a heart of gratitude, and a new goal - I'm signing off.

p.s. Here's a song that's been very meaningful to me lately.