"And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose." Romans 8:28
And
"'Test me in this,' says the LORD Almighty, 'and see if I will not throw open the floodgates.'" Malachi 3:10
^^That last one, paired with the first one makes a joke :) Maybe you won't get it until the end. Whatever. Read on.
We have had an eventful month.
In early March, Rodney underwent a vasectomy. We don't have insurance on him. But thanks to Dave Ramsey, we had the money saved up, granting us the ability to pay with cold hard cash. And so a cool, well-spent $1,500 strutted out the door. A week and a half later, he encountered severe side pain that sent him limping to our local Urgent Care. They proceeded with a standard CT scan, blood test, and urine analysis. The negative results left the confounded doctor with nothing but the option of diagnosing the pain as a "complication" of the vasectomy and sending him home with pain killers and orders to rest for a day.
Last week jump-started with our reception of the medical statement. Rodney's clean bill of health came to a stunning total of $2,100. It was shocking, but we began to devise ways to pull money together to get it paid.
A few days later we left for Eau Claire. We were to attend a funeral for a 16-year-old. Oh my heart :( Anyway, our Jeep blew its engine on the trip up. Thankfully, my brother-in-law is a phenomenal mechanic and is working toward finding and rebuilding a new engine to replace that bad boy. We don't know yet what the cost will be of that job. I'm going to go ahead and estimate $2,000 for that.
Also thanks to Dave Ramsey, we use cash for everything. So at the beginning of the month, we take out cash for well, everything: groceries, toiletries, fuel, birthdays, weddings, softener salt, diapers, etc. We withdraw the lump sum and then distribute it into our various "envelopes." It's an AMAZING system (that's another blog post for another day), and I recommend it to everyone to help avoid overspending.
However.
That means there's a large sum of money in one place until you're home from the bank. And if someone or other (maybe the husband? We'll just say "maybe") forgets to bring it in, it stays in the car. Where it can be taken. $800 gone.
My wonderful, aforementioned brother-in-law loaned us one of his Jeeps (yeah, we're a Jeepy kind of crew) while he worked on ours. During our use of it, we managed to break the driver's seat from its base.
Saturday, I spent 5 hours in Urgent Care with my one-year-old baby girl. She was the lucky winner of 2 chest x-rays, 2 throat x-rays, a nebulizer treatment, three different oxygen-level tests, a swab for strep throat, a swab for whooping cough, some kind of super-duper anti-inflammatory shot to open her airways, a dose of Tylenol, some saltine crackers, and apple juice (that last part wasn't so bad). She's okay now, for the record, praise God! Thanks again everyone for praying for our little Ez.
Yesterday, our garage door opener broke. Maybe $200?
Today, my daughter opened a birthday card from her generous aunt & uncle with $20 cash in it. That too has vanished. The cash-- not the card :)
$1500 Surgery
$2100 "Complication"
$2000 Engine
$ 800 Cash
$ 200 Garage Door Thinger
$ 20 Poor victim of unlucky parents
______________________________
$6,620 + broken Jeep chair and potential cost of Urgent Care visit (She's insured. Yay God!) accrued in ONE month.
A lot of people have asked me how I'm holding up. I have actually been doing fine-- as if nothing is even happening. Which very closely resembles textbook denial. Hmmm. . . :) But instead of labeling my peace with a psychological term, I'm choosing to trust that God is answering the prayers of my friends and family to sustain me.
Today, I was talking these circumstances over with someone close. It occurred to me that though these are difficult things, they have proved to shine light on God's goodness. It reminds me of lyrics in this song. Here are a few things that have surfaced and cannot be overlooked:
- We don't have grocery money for the next week and a half, but we have family who volunteered to feed us for a few of the nights. I also discovered enough food in our cupboards to make up for the rest of the meals we can't go out and buy.
- I have a brother-in-law skilled enough (and willing!) to completely fix our vehicle.
- I have family generous enough to pinch their schedule and loan us their second vehicle.
- I have family close by and willing to take my oldest kids in the event we would need to stay in the hospital a few days with the baby.
- We have friends who are constantly asking (nearly begging) to help out in SOME way.
- We have a church family and incredible friends who readily united in prayer over our little sick girl.
- When our Jeep died, no one was hurt. It wasn't raining (or snowing!), and we had just finished a stop at McDonald's-- filling our tummies and emptying our bladders.
- Thanks to Dave Ramsey (I should really get paid for all this advertising), we have a $1000 emergency fund, and money saved up for all kinds of other upcoming things. And while we don't WANT to liquidate the dough we've saved for our trip to Puerto Rico (for instance), the simple undeniable fact is that we do have that money. The content of those envelopes is certainly not enough to cover everything, but we haven't lived "paycheck to paycheck" for years. If our paychecks were the ONLY money we had to scrape together. . . Ooo-whee we'd be in a a heap of trouble.
- Rodney and I completely agree about God :) We know that He is trustworthy, and that He will provide. There's no arguing about plans or about money, even.
- This trouble has presented the opportunity to come together and pray as a whole family, sans baby.
- Lastly is something I try to never take for granted. But when you're going to a funeral for a child, you cannot overlook the absolute blessing of having all of your own kids alive. It makes everything else-- the whole gamut-- completely, utterly, and wholly unimportant.
This is for sure the roughest patch we've been through since we started our own company over 4 years ago. Instead of getting us down and burying us in defeat and worry, it has instead served to demonstrate just how richly we are blessed.
Monday, April 9, 2012
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Choose to Believe
A friend of mine indicated that she wasn't entirely sure where she stood on the matter of abortion. I'm choosing to seize that comment as an invitation to share some of my thoughts :)
She commentated that she was pro-choice because she doesn't believe that the government has a right to say what a woman can or can't do with what's inside her body. I think a lot of people hold to this line of thinking, so I'm going to address that ideology first.
It's My Body
The government says a lot about what we can and cannot do with our own bodies. Drugs, for one thing are illegal. We cannot put them into our bodies :) However, if we're discussing abortion, then we are not talking about just our own body. There is another person involved-- albeit a super tiny one.
I have the freedom to swing an ax any where and any way I want, so long as it doesn't land in the skull of someone else. The minute that my God-given right violates someone else's right to live, their right to live trumps my right of choice.
Others would argue that a clump of changing cells isn't a person at all. They question its “personhood.”
A Peron's A Person No Matter How Small
Listed below are a few facts. They may not be new to you, but they are important to the heart of the matter of titling the sperm-egg rendezvous as a lifeless "embryo."
- A fertilized, implanted egg has a heartbeat at 18 days-- most likely before a woman would even know she has missed her period.
- By the time most mothers know they are pregnant (23-25 days), the huge mass of cells has developed a brain and spinal cord.
- At 8 weeks this allegedly non-living thing has all body systems present (respiratory, vascular, internal organs) and is the size of a thumb.
- While there's no legal cut-off date, most abortions are carried out around 12 weeks. At this point, the "thing" has fingernails, fully functioning organs, spontaneous "breathing" motion, eyebrows, and weighs an ounce. Some other things that weigh one ounce include the following: a piece of processed cheese, a stack of 5 quarters, 28 paper clips, a slice of bread. Note: none of these things have heart beats, spinal cords, fingernails, or blood vessels.
Side Effects
Everything medical has side effects. The silenced consequences of abortion are heartbreaking. I found this compiled list of potential side effects on the website for Christian Life Resources, and I'll simply quote it directly:
Physical Effects:
- Miscarriages
- Ectopic Pregnancies
- Perforated Uterus/Infections
- Nervousness
- Frigidity
- Sterility/Stillbirths
- Shock
- Fever/Cold Sweats
- Loss of Other Organs
Psychological Effects:
- Unfulfillment/Sense of Loss
- Despair
- Loss of Confidence in Decision-Making
- Intense Interest in Babies
- Loss of Interest in Sex
- Feeling of Dehumanization
- Feelings of Being exploited
- Flashback of the Actual Abortion
- Guilt/Suicidal Impulses
- Mourning
- Regret/Remorse
- Inability to Focus (School or Work)
- Anniversaries (of Actual Due Date and Abortion Date)
- Eating Disorders
- Sleeping Disorders
- Low Self-Esteem
- Fear of Something Happening to One of their Other Children
- Cannot Forgive Themselves
- Trouble with Understanding and Accepting God's Forgiveness
- Nightmares
- Sighing ... Crying
- Hopelessness/Helplessness
- Anger/Denial
- Problem with Trusting Another Partner
- Fear of Never Being Given Another Pregnancy
- Depression/Anxiety
- Interruption of the Bonding Process with Present and/or Future Children
- Survival Guilt
- Alcohol/Drug Abuse
What Might God Say?
I have several biblical references to support the idea that God views "conception" as a person.
These first verses indicate that God plans things for people even before the egg and sperm meet.
Luke 2:21 ". . .He was named Jesus, the name the angel had given him before he was conceived."
Judges 13:5 "You will become pregnant and have a son whose head is never to be touched by a razor because the boy is to be a Nazirite, dedicated to God from the womb. He will take the lead in delivering Israel from the hands of the Philistines.”
These next verses show that God holds purpose for people even while in utero.
Matt 1:20 ". . .Joseph son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife, because what is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit."
Gen 25:23 "The LORD said to her, “Two nations are in your womb, and two peoples from within you will be separated; one people will be stronger than the other, and the older will serve the younger.”
Jeremiah 20:17 "For he did not kill me in the womb, with my mother as my grave, her womb enlarged forever."
Galatians 1:15-16 "But when God, who set me apart from my mother’s womb and called me by his grace, was pleased to reveal his Son in me so that I might preach him among the Gentiles, my immediate response was not to consult any human being."
These next verses show that we're not only human at conception, but that God Himself takes the time to craft each of us.
Psalm 51:5 "Surely I was sinful at birth, sinful from the time my mother conceived me."
Psalm 139:13 "For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb." (My personal favorite)
Job 31:15 "Did not he who made me in the womb make them? Did not the same one form us both within our mothers?"
Isaiah 44:2 "This is what the LORD says— he who made you, who formed you in the womb, and who will help you:"
My Soap Box
I'd like to ad a few other things that, quite frankly, we just don't hear very often.
First, while I realize that the Partial Birth Abortion Ban Act of 2003 prohibits some forms of partial-birth abortion, it is still the most barbaric thing we “civilized” people have done. If someone was to take a puppy, pinch her back leg in forceps, jam a pair of scissors into the back of her skull, open the scissors repeatedly until the hole was big enough to suck out her brains. . . that person would be a weirdo outcast. He would be fined (up to thousands of dollars) and most likely jailed. If he did this regularly, the evening news would surely slap Americans in the face with the outrage. People despise a person who abuses helpless animals-- no matter the reasoning he would choose to defend himself with.
If a woman births a baby and throws it in a dumpster, she's a criminal. A murderer. If a doctor pulls out a baby and puts it in a bucket and sets it in a corner, he's simply doing his job well (site).
Secondly, as a stereo-typical whole, people who are in support of relabeling “babies” so we can kill them are the same people who are opposed to capital punishment. Regardless of my personal stance on capital punishment, is it really worse to painlessly, lethally inject an adult who misused his/her choices than it is to suck a baby from its mother's womb?
My third point is in the form of a story. You can listen to the broadcast here. It's from the perspective of a former Planned Parenthood clinic director describing her first witnessed abortion. It was an unusual “ultrasound-guided” abortion. She went into the procedure feeling excited. Not only would she witness a new type of abortion, but she would get to actually hold the ultrasound wand during the procedure. The 13-week-old baby on the ultrasound screen was perfectly-formed with all its organs and tiny fingers.
Still excited about the new learning experience, she watched on the ultrasound screen while the doctor insert the probe (which was not yet turned on). He bumped the probe into the baby, who then seemed to wake up and start kicking its legs and moving its little arms. “It was like the baby was trying to find a place to go.”
She suddenly realized that this wasn't just a learning experience, but that she was about to witness something horrific. Immediately she thought of her 3-year-old daughter and the excitement they had felt while watching their own ultrasounds. She couldn't bring herself to look away from the screen. And right before her eyes, the suction turned on. It twisted and turned the baby quickly into nothingness. The life that was under her hands moments ago was gone.
She commentated that she was pro-choice because she doesn't believe that the government has a right to say what a woman can or can't do with what's inside her body. I think a lot of people hold to this line of thinking, so I'm going to address that ideology first.
It's My Body
The government says a lot about what we can and cannot do with our own bodies. Drugs, for one thing are illegal. We cannot put them into our bodies :) However, if we're discussing abortion, then we are not talking about just our own body. There is another person involved-- albeit a super tiny one.
I have the freedom to swing an ax any where and any way I want, so long as it doesn't land in the skull of someone else. The minute that my God-given right violates someone else's right to live, their right to live trumps my right of choice.
Others would argue that a clump of changing cells isn't a person at all. They question its “personhood.”
A Peron's A Person No Matter How Small
Listed below are a few facts. They may not be new to you, but they are important to the heart of the matter of titling the sperm-egg rendezvous as a lifeless "embryo."
- A fertilized, implanted egg has a heartbeat at 18 days-- most likely before a woman would even know she has missed her period.
- By the time most mothers know they are pregnant (23-25 days), the huge mass of cells has developed a brain and spinal cord.
- At 8 weeks this allegedly non-living thing has all body systems present (respiratory, vascular, internal organs) and is the size of a thumb.
- While there's no legal cut-off date, most abortions are carried out around 12 weeks. At this point, the "thing" has fingernails, fully functioning organs, spontaneous "breathing" motion, eyebrows, and weighs an ounce. Some other things that weigh one ounce include the following: a piece of processed cheese, a stack of 5 quarters, 28 paper clips, a slice of bread. Note: none of these things have heart beats, spinal cords, fingernails, or blood vessels.
Side Effects
Everything medical has side effects. The silenced consequences of abortion are heartbreaking. I found this compiled list of potential side effects on the website for Christian Life Resources, and I'll simply quote it directly:
Physical Effects:
- Miscarriages
- Ectopic Pregnancies
- Perforated Uterus/Infections
- Nervousness
- Frigidity
- Sterility/Stillbirths
- Shock
- Fever/Cold Sweats
- Loss of Other Organs
Psychological Effects:
- Unfulfillment/Sense of Loss
- Despair
- Loss of Confidence in Decision-Making
- Intense Interest in Babies
- Loss of Interest in Sex
- Feeling of Dehumanization
- Feelings of Being exploited
- Flashback of the Actual Abortion
- Guilt/Suicidal Impulses
- Mourning
- Regret/Remorse
- Inability to Focus (School or Work)
- Anniversaries (of Actual Due Date and Abortion Date)
- Eating Disorders
- Sleeping Disorders
- Low Self-Esteem
- Fear of Something Happening to One of their Other Children
- Cannot Forgive Themselves
- Trouble with Understanding and Accepting God's Forgiveness
- Nightmares
- Sighing ... Crying
- Hopelessness/Helplessness
- Anger/Denial
- Problem with Trusting Another Partner
- Fear of Never Being Given Another Pregnancy
- Depression/Anxiety
- Interruption of the Bonding Process with Present and/or Future Children
- Survival Guilt
- Alcohol/Drug Abuse
What Might God Say?
I have several biblical references to support the idea that God views "conception" as a person.
These first verses indicate that God plans things for people even before the egg and sperm meet.
Luke 2:21 ". . .He was named Jesus, the name the angel had given him before he was conceived."
Judges 13:5 "You will become pregnant and have a son whose head is never to be touched by a razor because the boy is to be a Nazirite, dedicated to God from the womb. He will take the lead in delivering Israel from the hands of the Philistines.”
These next verses show that God holds purpose for people even while in utero.
Matt 1:20 ". . .Joseph son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife, because what is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit."
Gen 25:23 "The LORD said to her, “Two nations are in your womb, and two peoples from within you will be separated; one people will be stronger than the other, and the older will serve the younger.”
Jeremiah 20:17 "For he did not kill me in the womb, with my mother as my grave, her womb enlarged forever."
Galatians 1:15-16 "But when God, who set me apart from my mother’s womb and called me by his grace, was pleased to reveal his Son in me so that I might preach him among the Gentiles, my immediate response was not to consult any human being."
These next verses show that we're not only human at conception, but that God Himself takes the time to craft each of us.
Psalm 51:5 "Surely I was sinful at birth, sinful from the time my mother conceived me."
Psalm 139:13 "For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb." (My personal favorite)
Job 31:15 "Did not he who made me in the womb make them? Did not the same one form us both within our mothers?"
Isaiah 44:2 "This is what the LORD says— he who made you, who formed you in the womb, and who will help you:"
My Soap Box
I'd like to ad a few other things that, quite frankly, we just don't hear very often.
First, while I realize that the Partial Birth Abortion Ban Act of 2003 prohibits some forms of partial-birth abortion, it is still the most barbaric thing we “civilized” people have done. If someone was to take a puppy, pinch her back leg in forceps, jam a pair of scissors into the back of her skull, open the scissors repeatedly until the hole was big enough to suck out her brains. . . that person would be a weirdo outcast. He would be fined (up to thousands of dollars) and most likely jailed. If he did this regularly, the evening news would surely slap Americans in the face with the outrage. People despise a person who abuses helpless animals-- no matter the reasoning he would choose to defend himself with.
If a woman births a baby and throws it in a dumpster, she's a criminal. A murderer. If a doctor pulls out a baby and puts it in a bucket and sets it in a corner, he's simply doing his job well (site).
Secondly, as a stereo-typical whole, people who are in support of relabeling “babies” so we can kill them are the same people who are opposed to capital punishment. Regardless of my personal stance on capital punishment, is it really worse to painlessly, lethally inject an adult who misused his/her choices than it is to suck a baby from its mother's womb?
My third point is in the form of a story. You can listen to the broadcast here. It's from the perspective of a former Planned Parenthood clinic director describing her first witnessed abortion. It was an unusual “ultrasound-guided” abortion. She went into the procedure feeling excited. Not only would she witness a new type of abortion, but she would get to actually hold the ultrasound wand during the procedure. The 13-week-old baby on the ultrasound screen was perfectly-formed with all its organs and tiny fingers.
Still excited about the new learning experience, she watched on the ultrasound screen while the doctor insert the probe (which was not yet turned on). He bumped the probe into the baby, who then seemed to wake up and start kicking its legs and moving its little arms. “It was like the baby was trying to find a place to go.”
She suddenly realized that this wasn't just a learning experience, but that she was about to witness something horrific. Immediately she thought of her 3-year-old daughter and the excitement they had felt while watching their own ultrasounds. She couldn't bring herself to look away from the screen. And right before her eyes, the suction turned on. It twisted and turned the baby quickly into nothingness. The life that was under her hands moments ago was gone.
Monday, July 11, 2011
Whose Timing?
Last night, I was reading a bit of "Crazy Love" by Francis Chan-- ALWAYS a challenge. The chapter I read was encouraging me to stress less. He defined that "stress says that the things we are involved in are important enough to merit our impatience, our lack of grace toward others, or our tight grip of control." He went on to say that being stressed conveys that "It's okay to sin and not trust God because the stuff in my life is somehow exceptional" and that it reeks of arrogance. Man!
So I did something I don't usually do. I hand wrote 3 Bible verses, cut them out, and taped them up around my kitchen (aka my office). They are:
1) This is the day that the Lord has made. I WILL rejoice and be glad in it.
2) Rejoice in the Lord ALWAYS and again I say rejoice.
3) The joy of the Lord is my strength.
A few months ago, we emptied our savings to put a new engine in our only vehicle.
A week ago, that same vehicle's engine acquired a hard knock. So it's in the shop now, awaiting an official prognosis. We're not optimistic. Thankfully, our savings is up to where we could handle a pretty decent blow. Again.
This morning, I washed a load of towels in our sounds-like-death washer. When I put them in the dryer, it wouldn't spin. We had plenty of heat, but no turning action.
Really?
I remembered to those blasted verses I had posted no more than 12 hours earlier and thought about how God is a funny guy. But in all seriousness, I was able to take the hit in stride and with a sense of joy. I am worthy of testing :) And I'm excited to see how God pulls through.
So I did something I don't usually do. I hand wrote 3 Bible verses, cut them out, and taped them up around my kitchen (aka my office). They are:
1) This is the day that the Lord has made. I WILL rejoice and be glad in it.
2) Rejoice in the Lord ALWAYS and again I say rejoice.
3) The joy of the Lord is my strength.
A few months ago, we emptied our savings to put a new engine in our only vehicle.
A week ago, that same vehicle's engine acquired a hard knock. So it's in the shop now, awaiting an official prognosis. We're not optimistic. Thankfully, our savings is up to where we could handle a pretty decent blow. Again.
This morning, I washed a load of towels in our sounds-like-death washer. When I put them in the dryer, it wouldn't spin. We had plenty of heat, but no turning action.
Really?
I remembered to those blasted verses I had posted no more than 12 hours earlier and thought about how God is a funny guy. But in all seriousness, I was able to take the hit in stride and with a sense of joy. I am worthy of testing :) And I'm excited to see how God pulls through.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Break the Mirror
I can't seem to lose this baby weight.
My teeth make me look like a redneck.
I have a "muffin top" that just won't seem to go away.
Stupid acne.
If only my teeth were straighter/whiter.
I hate hate hate my varicose veins.
Leave the house without makeup? Ha!
I have more stretch marks than the elastic in the pants I have to wear.
My hair is too frizzy.
Ugh, wrinkles.
I just can't seem to shed these last, stubborn 20 pounds.
Does any of this sound familiar?
Why do we want to change these things? Often, the things we hate the most about our appearance are things we can do nothing about-- the shape or size of your nose. The way your second toe is longer than your big toe. Dimples. Wrinkles. Freckles. The thickness of your hair (or lack thereof). Your crooked pinky finger.
I happen to know a sweet soul who has visible rolls of fat on her thighs, an abnormally big head, is bald, and has only gums to bear her smiles. I realize she doesn't sound pretty, but she is absolutely one of the most beautiful people I know. Her name is Ezra, and she's my 2-month-old daughter. Talk about perspective, huh :)
It's almost laughable to think of a baby's physical characteristics as ugly or inexcusable. But I have to wonder how God sees His girls. Maybe He doesn't see a few extra pounds, stretch marks and varicose veins, but instead sees a woman He called and equipped to motherhood. Or if maybe He views the woman who's morbidly obese as His precious princess who struggles with overeating or maybe is still unable to cope with the molestation she endured as a child.
The Bible doesn't mention these things specifically. But through the eyes of a loving parent, I can begin to imagine what God may see.
Take, for instance, my 4-year-old daughter who has been richly gifted with external beauty. I can imagine her on the playground with her little girlfriends, scrutinizing their "flaws." All it would take is one little girl spreading the viral idea that "dimples are ugly" to send my daughter home in tears, thinking she is somehow worth less than her friends because of her dimples-- one of my favorite features!!
I think God winces at the entire concept of air brushing. We do it to people to make them look better (according to who?), and the effect is that none of us can ever equate to that standard. Feeling ugly because we don't look like the cover girl on Cosmo is as logical as my dog wanting to look like the star of Blues Clues.
God wants so much more than that for His girls. Proverbs 4:23 says, "Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it." How can we love other people and help them see what God sees if our own hearts are filled with disdain for ourselves? We don't allow even ourselves to see our created beauty because we're so wrapped up in the flaws we're told to look at. Our "dimples" if you will.
I was recently in a wedding as a bride's maid-- three weeks after birthing a baby. Talk about self conscious! Anyway, we carpooled to the salon in the morning to have our hair beautified. Until then, I didn't know my hair could look so way cool. It's a drab shade of dish water. And when it's not tied up for cooking, cleaning, or Play-doh, it hangs heavily down in a very boring, frizzy, no-layer-type fashion. But in its up-do, it had shrieks of highlights and twistiness. Very fun.
Then I had makeup applied to my face (since I don't wear it otherwise, and can't tell eyeliner from lip liner) with a subtle but flattering look. I was of course wearing a fun, pretty dress and had AMAZING Converse All Star shoes to complete the look of "Glam Meets Fun."
Adding all those things together should have granted me a sense royalty. And part of me did feel cute and wonderfully beautiful. But the few times my eyes met a mirror, my heart heaved a deep sigh if disapproval. Every bit of beauty that could be accentuated WAS, and it still wasn't enough. I observed attributes like the weird shape of my nose, wrinkles creasing my face, and other "flaws" that I've come to hate.
I found it impossible to give myself permission to just feel pretty. Even for the day.
The truth is that we have an enemy (and it's not Society :) ). There's a blanket of shame that he somehow gets us to hide behind. We can never get to a place where we feel truly beautiful. And if we ever do brush against the feeling of beauty, we dismiss the idea as fantasy or vanity. "Who am I to say I'm pretty?"
My encouragement to you today is to live like you're really His girl.
If my daughter has any "flaws," I truly don't know what they are. I love everything about her-- from her dimples to her moles and freckles to her little toenails. None of those things are imperfections to me. They're just things that are unique to her.
I myself need to stop looking at mirrors, and make the choice to look into His face and run to His arms instead. They are open, accepting, and will tell me I'm beautiful as much as I will hear it.
Psalm 45:10-11 "Listen, daughter, and pay careful attention: Forget your people and your father’s house. Let the king be enthralled by your beauty; honor him, for he is your lord."
My teeth make me look like a redneck.
I have a "muffin top" that just won't seem to go away.
Stupid acne.
If only my teeth were straighter/whiter.
I hate hate hate my varicose veins.
Leave the house without makeup? Ha!
I have more stretch marks than the elastic in the pants I have to wear.
My hair is too frizzy.
Ugh, wrinkles.
I just can't seem to shed these last, stubborn 20 pounds.
Does any of this sound familiar?
Why do we want to change these things? Often, the things we hate the most about our appearance are things we can do nothing about-- the shape or size of your nose. The way your second toe is longer than your big toe. Dimples. Wrinkles. Freckles. The thickness of your hair (or lack thereof). Your crooked pinky finger.
I happen to know a sweet soul who has visible rolls of fat on her thighs, an abnormally big head, is bald, and has only gums to bear her smiles. I realize she doesn't sound pretty, but she is absolutely one of the most beautiful people I know. Her name is Ezra, and she's my 2-month-old daughter. Talk about perspective, huh :)
It's almost laughable to think of a baby's physical characteristics as ugly or inexcusable. But I have to wonder how God sees His girls. Maybe He doesn't see a few extra pounds, stretch marks and varicose veins, but instead sees a woman He called and equipped to motherhood. Or if maybe He views the woman who's morbidly obese as His precious princess who struggles with overeating or maybe is still unable to cope with the molestation she endured as a child.
The Bible doesn't mention these things specifically. But through the eyes of a loving parent, I can begin to imagine what God may see.
Take, for instance, my 4-year-old daughter who has been richly gifted with external beauty. I can imagine her on the playground with her little girlfriends, scrutinizing their "flaws." All it would take is one little girl spreading the viral idea that "dimples are ugly" to send my daughter home in tears, thinking she is somehow worth less than her friends because of her dimples-- one of my favorite features!!
I think God winces at the entire concept of air brushing. We do it to people to make them look better (according to who?), and the effect is that none of us can ever equate to that standard. Feeling ugly because we don't look like the cover girl on Cosmo is as logical as my dog wanting to look like the star of Blues Clues.
God wants so much more than that for His girls. Proverbs 4:23 says, "Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it." How can we love other people and help them see what God sees if our own hearts are filled with disdain for ourselves? We don't allow even ourselves to see our created beauty because we're so wrapped up in the flaws we're told to look at. Our "dimples" if you will.
I was recently in a wedding as a bride's maid-- three weeks after birthing a baby. Talk about self conscious! Anyway, we carpooled to the salon in the morning to have our hair beautified. Until then, I didn't know my hair could look so way cool. It's a drab shade of dish water. And when it's not tied up for cooking, cleaning, or Play-doh, it hangs heavily down in a very boring, frizzy, no-layer-type fashion. But in its up-do, it had shrieks of highlights and twistiness. Very fun.
Then I had makeup applied to my face (since I don't wear it otherwise, and can't tell eyeliner from lip liner) with a subtle but flattering look. I was of course wearing a fun, pretty dress and had AMAZING Converse All Star shoes to complete the look of "Glam Meets Fun."
Adding all those things together should have granted me a sense royalty. And part of me did feel cute and wonderfully beautiful. But the few times my eyes met a mirror, my heart heaved a deep sigh if disapproval. Every bit of beauty that could be accentuated WAS, and it still wasn't enough. I observed attributes like the weird shape of my nose, wrinkles creasing my face, and other "flaws" that I've come to hate.
I found it impossible to give myself permission to just feel pretty. Even for the day.
The truth is that we have an enemy (and it's not Society :) ). There's a blanket of shame that he somehow gets us to hide behind. We can never get to a place where we feel truly beautiful. And if we ever do brush against the feeling of beauty, we dismiss the idea as fantasy or vanity. "Who am I to say I'm pretty?"
My encouragement to you today is to live like you're really His girl.
If my daughter has any "flaws," I truly don't know what they are. I love everything about her-- from her dimples to her moles and freckles to her little toenails. None of those things are imperfections to me. They're just things that are unique to her.
I myself need to stop looking at mirrors, and make the choice to look into His face and run to His arms instead. They are open, accepting, and will tell me I'm beautiful as much as I will hear it.
Psalm 45:10-11 "Listen, daughter, and pay careful attention: Forget your people and your father’s house. Let the king be enthralled by your beauty; honor him, for he is your lord."
Monday, May 2, 2011
God doesn't actually like you more.
God loves everyone, right? Red, yellow, black & white. Rich, poor, sick & healthy. Presidents, kings, dictators & terrorists. Prostitutes, rapists, murderers & child molesters. Oh wait, that's uncomfortable.
Some things in life we have no control over, like ethnic background or royal bloodlines. Some things we claim to have no control over. And sometimes, we just make bad decisions. It's this last category that I'm addressing today.
God hand-crafts every baby. The Bible says He "knits" them together in their mother's womb. As a mom myself, this is an absolutely beautiful truth. I love being pregnant for many reasons, but one is knowing that God is literally, physically working His art in my body. So mysterious and incomprehensible.
When I think about my children, I feel overwhelming, unexplainable love. Even my newborn. They do nothing to earn my love, and could do nothing to squirm out of its grasp. I simply love them because they're mine. They mess up. They hurt each other. They even hurt my heart sometimes. But on the days when I'm most irritated with them, my passion for them is no less than when they wrap their tiny arms around my neck and whisper "I love you Momma."
When I consider that analogy, it's easy for me to make the connection with God's feelings toward us. Actually accepting it is still difficult, but I'm better able to sort the intellectual knowledge of His unfading love.
He loves me. He loves all of us. We're all His.
But what about Adolph Hitler or Osama Bin Laden? There are people we naturally hate. Surely God has left a clause in there that if someone is "bad" enough, they're worthy of death, hell, and torture more than I. He couldn't have "knitted" them in their mother's womb. God has hated "those kinds of people" their whole lives, right?
What a contradiction to wrestle with.
Think once about Osama as God's created being. He crafted him with the same loving care that He did you and me. With excitement for the new life and hopes of one more human friend to share relationship with.
Think of the sadness the had to have wrenched God's heart as He watched His creation take turn after turn in the wrong direction. He watched him take the free will he was granted to hurt and kill others. I cannot begin to imagine the pain He deals with on a "daily," continual basis. I'd rather not think about it, to be honest.
The hard part is that we don't understand "bad" in the same way God does.
Because I've never stabbed someone in the heart and taken their life, it feels like I'm better than an imprisoned murderer. But He says in 1 John 3:15, "Anyone who hates a brother or sister is a murderer." I personally know a child molester, and the child he molested. And I can tell you that until I was able to come to terms with real forgiveness, "hate" wasn't a strong enough word for my emotions toward him.
So the whole "I'm a pretty good person" thing? Yeah, that's out.
God's standard is perfection. One thing wrong equals failure. We all hit that before we could even talk. I heard it put this way once. In school, anything below a 70% gaves you an "F." So if you got a 69%, you failed. If you got a 69% and I got a 39%, would your F be any better than my F? Of course not. WE'RE BOTH FAILING. It doesn't matter that you're failing "less" than I'm failing.
We were invited to join a champagne/sparking juice "Osama is dead" celebration this evening. I thought that was an awesome, fun idea. But this morning, I was presented with this verse, posted by a Facebook friend:
Ezekiel 33:11
"As I live, declares the Lord GOD, I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but that the wicked turn from his way and live."
It's sobering enough to jolt me from my selfish place of small understanding and force me to see people just a little more like God might. I thought I'd send the challenge your way too :)
Some things in life we have no control over, like ethnic background or royal bloodlines. Some things we claim to have no control over. And sometimes, we just make bad decisions. It's this last category that I'm addressing today.
God hand-crafts every baby. The Bible says He "knits" them together in their mother's womb. As a mom myself, this is an absolutely beautiful truth. I love being pregnant for many reasons, but one is knowing that God is literally, physically working His art in my body. So mysterious and incomprehensible.
When I think about my children, I feel overwhelming, unexplainable love. Even my newborn. They do nothing to earn my love, and could do nothing to squirm out of its grasp. I simply love them because they're mine. They mess up. They hurt each other. They even hurt my heart sometimes. But on the days when I'm most irritated with them, my passion for them is no less than when they wrap their tiny arms around my neck and whisper "I love you Momma."
When I consider that analogy, it's easy for me to make the connection with God's feelings toward us. Actually accepting it is still difficult, but I'm better able to sort the intellectual knowledge of His unfading love.
He loves me. He loves all of us. We're all His.
But what about Adolph Hitler or Osama Bin Laden? There are people we naturally hate. Surely God has left a clause in there that if someone is "bad" enough, they're worthy of death, hell, and torture more than I. He couldn't have "knitted" them in their mother's womb. God has hated "those kinds of people" their whole lives, right?
What a contradiction to wrestle with.
Think once about Osama as God's created being. He crafted him with the same loving care that He did you and me. With excitement for the new life and hopes of one more human friend to share relationship with.
Think of the sadness the had to have wrenched God's heart as He watched His creation take turn after turn in the wrong direction. He watched him take the free will he was granted to hurt and kill others. I cannot begin to imagine the pain He deals with on a "daily," continual basis. I'd rather not think about it, to be honest.
The hard part is that we don't understand "bad" in the same way God does.
Because I've never stabbed someone in the heart and taken their life, it feels like I'm better than an imprisoned murderer. But He says in 1 John 3:15, "Anyone who hates a brother or sister is a murderer." I personally know a child molester, and the child he molested. And I can tell you that until I was able to come to terms with real forgiveness, "hate" wasn't a strong enough word for my emotions toward him.
So the whole "I'm a pretty good person" thing? Yeah, that's out.
God's standard is perfection. One thing wrong equals failure. We all hit that before we could even talk. I heard it put this way once. In school, anything below a 70% gaves you an "F." So if you got a 69%, you failed. If you got a 69% and I got a 39%, would your F be any better than my F? Of course not. WE'RE BOTH FAILING. It doesn't matter that you're failing "less" than I'm failing.
We were invited to join a champagne/sparking juice "Osama is dead" celebration this evening. I thought that was an awesome, fun idea. But this morning, I was presented with this verse, posted by a Facebook friend:
Ezekiel 33:11
"As I live, declares the Lord GOD, I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but that the wicked turn from his way and live."
It's sobering enough to jolt me from my selfish place of small understanding and force me to see people just a little more like God might. I thought I'd send the challenge your way too :)
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
The Blanket
I had a baby last week. My third. Grocery shopping has now become a fear of mine. Not because I'm afraid of germs or crabby cashiers, but because I don't know how to transfer three wiggly, rambunctious, disruptive kids through a store with only one butt-holder per cart.
But you have to do what you have to do. So today I "manned" up and went out while the oldest one was in school. We left later than I wanted to. So in a rush, I buckled my little ones in their car seats and drove off, worried that the baby would NEED to eat in the slot of time we were there. Of course I can't modestly accomplish that task while walking the aisles. So the alternative is to let her cry it out while all the non-parents in the store glare us down like we're Iraqi rebels.
Regardless, we needed cereal. And milk. And other obnoxious things that shouldn't run out as fast as they do.
So we arrive. I haul the 97-pound infant carrier and guide the reluctant, wandering-sheep-of-a-two-year-old across the parking lot and into the doors where we're greeted by Ray.
Ray is a half-toothless, short, stocky, white-haired man who never fails to shout out his usual, "And how are the three of you today?" Of course the number in his greeting fluctuates based on the number of children tagging along. Sometimes the question is followed by a comment about the weather, and sometimes the conversation dies, leaving an awkwardness while kids get situated for their trip through the store.
Today I snapped the baby into the cart, plopped the toddler into the basket (with a firm warning about staying seated) and brushed past Ray, as he squeaked out a "May I?" We jerked to a stop. I peeled my mind from its focus on speed, precise efficiency, the list, and getting the heck out of there before the baby woke up. And since I was already nearly through the doors, I rewound my steps until I was standing by Ray. I was feeling a bit impatient, but everyone deserves to take a gander at my perfect baby, right?
He started pulling back on the crocheted blanket I had draped over her. And as her face became easier to see, I heard a lady behind me let out the typical "Awe," and I knew she was in on the peep show. I proudly declared that she was "one week old today." It was at that point I realized that he wasn't really looking at the baby at all, but at the blanket.
"Oh, my mom made that for her."
He nodded his head in affirmation. He said he could tell by the skill that it was hand made by someone who loved her. He said it's the colors that were chosen and the stitches that were sewn that tipped him off. His wife used to make things like that all the time, he said.
"I just lost my wife."
Suddenly all my cares about the shopping trip or the potential to have a screaming baby in the store completely dissipated. It didn't matter if my baby was one week old or five years old.
His eyes were glazed with a sad fondness. My expression must have given away more than I was intending because he quickly reassured me that it's a good memory and something great to be reminded of. His compliments to my mom.
But you have to do what you have to do. So today I "manned" up and went out while the oldest one was in school. We left later than I wanted to. So in a rush, I buckled my little ones in their car seats and drove off, worried that the baby would NEED to eat in the slot of time we were there. Of course I can't modestly accomplish that task while walking the aisles. So the alternative is to let her cry it out while all the non-parents in the store glare us down like we're Iraqi rebels.
Regardless, we needed cereal. And milk. And other obnoxious things that shouldn't run out as fast as they do.
So we arrive. I haul the 97-pound infant carrier and guide the reluctant, wandering-sheep-of-a-two-year-old across the parking lot and into the doors where we're greeted by Ray.
Ray is a half-toothless, short, stocky, white-haired man who never fails to shout out his usual, "And how are the three of you today?" Of course the number in his greeting fluctuates based on the number of children tagging along. Sometimes the question is followed by a comment about the weather, and sometimes the conversation dies, leaving an awkwardness while kids get situated for their trip through the store.
Today I snapped the baby into the cart, plopped the toddler into the basket (with a firm warning about staying seated) and brushed past Ray, as he squeaked out a "May I?" We jerked to a stop. I peeled my mind from its focus on speed, precise efficiency, the list, and getting the heck out of there before the baby woke up. And since I was already nearly through the doors, I rewound my steps until I was standing by Ray. I was feeling a bit impatient, but everyone deserves to take a gander at my perfect baby, right?
He started pulling back on the crocheted blanket I had draped over her. And as her face became easier to see, I heard a lady behind me let out the typical "Awe," and I knew she was in on the peep show. I proudly declared that she was "one week old today." It was at that point I realized that he wasn't really looking at the baby at all, but at the blanket.
"Oh, my mom made that for her."
He nodded his head in affirmation. He said he could tell by the skill that it was hand made by someone who loved her. He said it's the colors that were chosen and the stitches that were sewn that tipped him off. His wife used to make things like that all the time, he said.
"I just lost my wife."
Suddenly all my cares about the shopping trip or the potential to have a screaming baby in the store completely dissipated. It didn't matter if my baby was one week old or five years old.
His eyes were glazed with a sad fondness. My expression must have given away more than I was intending because he quickly reassured me that it's a good memory and something great to be reminded of. His compliments to my mom.
Sunday, April 3, 2011
GKB Folder
I hate when I have hang-ups with God. I already know who's right and how it's going to end. I wish sometimes He would just hit me upside the head with some baseball bat of acceptance, replacing emotional turmoil with healing, physical pain. But He doesn't work that way. Boo.
It's been about a year now that I've been unable to put a certain issue to rest with God. It's something I was never personally faced with until then. For the most part, I had accepted it and tucked it away under the file "God knows best" (GKB) and moved on.
It resurfaced itself last weekend, and I was surprised at the amount of emotion and bitterness it pulled from my heart. Usually things in the GKB folder are safe and laid completely to rest. They're matters I've encountered, dealt with, and identified as being out of my control and simply in His hands. People can challenge my thinking, but if it's there, it's sealed.
Sometimes I wonder even, if I can credit myself with the gift of faith/trust because it comes so easily to me. I don't have trouble believing God will pull me through anything. I know my plans aren't His. I know that He knows (and wants) what's best for me. He's proven His love and trustworthiness to me over and over again. So even if I don't understand why or how things happen, why doubt? He's got my back.
This morning, while we were singing in church, I was reminded of another thing I wrestled Him on several years ago. I pined over it, but He continually told me to wait, rest, and trust Him. He never did give me an answer or a reason for His decline of my request. It too had been sorted into the GKB section of my life. And when it crossed my mind today, I became confused all over again, and asked the dangerous (and often un-answerable) question "Why?"
I began to think more about that GKB folder. How many things could I really fit into there without it tearing or bleeding out? Did I really trust Him?
Can I really trust Him?
Why would He hide things from me? I am His bride, His love. I have given my life to Him, and He gave His for me. Would He really just demand that I "suck it up" when I don't like what He's doing? As His beloved, that seems cruel.
While I was scanning these thoughts (and consequently crying like a child), they sang one of my favorite songs: "How He Loves." And nothing, no trace, of my mind doubts His enduring love for me. How can I believe so solidly in His love and yet deny its truth all in one breath of emotion? I'm still stumped.
Then I thought about how He's also my Father, which opens a completely new perspective. My 4-year-old doesn't necessarily deserve to know (nor would she understand) my reasons for every thing I do or don't allow. That concept resonates easily with me.
THEN I remembered that He's majestic and holy. And what business do I have demanding answers from Him? That concept always shuts me up.
Add to all that the grace He has extended to me. My friends, house, life, kids, health, marriage, talents, on and on. All that in addition to my forgiveness and eternity promised with Him?
"And all of a sudden I am unaware of these afflictions eclipsed by glory."
That is a line from "How He Loves." The song also talks about Him being a hurricane, and "I am a tree bending beneath the weight of His love and mercy." It reminds me of the conversation Rodney and I had with our valet driver in Puerto Rico about the ocean being analogous with God's love-- always, constantly coming at us, leaving us powerless to stop it.
I wish I could say that today's encounter cured me of the big hang-up I'm shoveling through. That my mind and hurt have been super-naturally healed. In fact, facing these thoughts surfaced more issues that I have placed with trust into the GKB slot. I have a feeling that's the enemy though.
The funny part is that this was all throughout communion. The time in my life where I thoroughly and honestly search my heart for resentment or bitterness toward anyone. Never would I have thought He was the one I would need to hash things out with.
It was interesting to me to learn that while I'm His love, I'm also His daughter, and I'm also simply part of His total creation. It's almost like a trinity of my own existence. They're all part of me, but they serve different roles in my communication with God. Maybe the next leg of this journey is to see how they can and do all work together. We'll see what kind of blog post THAT turns out to be :)
It's been about a year now that I've been unable to put a certain issue to rest with God. It's something I was never personally faced with until then. For the most part, I had accepted it and tucked it away under the file "God knows best" (GKB) and moved on.
It resurfaced itself last weekend, and I was surprised at the amount of emotion and bitterness it pulled from my heart. Usually things in the GKB folder are safe and laid completely to rest. They're matters I've encountered, dealt with, and identified as being out of my control and simply in His hands. People can challenge my thinking, but if it's there, it's sealed.
Sometimes I wonder even, if I can credit myself with the gift of faith/trust because it comes so easily to me. I don't have trouble believing God will pull me through anything. I know my plans aren't His. I know that He knows (and wants) what's best for me. He's proven His love and trustworthiness to me over and over again. So even if I don't understand why or how things happen, why doubt? He's got my back.
This morning, while we were singing in church, I was reminded of another thing I wrestled Him on several years ago. I pined over it, but He continually told me to wait, rest, and trust Him. He never did give me an answer or a reason for His decline of my request. It too had been sorted into the GKB section of my life. And when it crossed my mind today, I became confused all over again, and asked the dangerous (and often un-answerable) question "Why?"
I began to think more about that GKB folder. How many things could I really fit into there without it tearing or bleeding out? Did I really trust Him?
Can I really trust Him?
Why would He hide things from me? I am His bride, His love. I have given my life to Him, and He gave His for me. Would He really just demand that I "suck it up" when I don't like what He's doing? As His beloved, that seems cruel.
While I was scanning these thoughts (and consequently crying like a child), they sang one of my favorite songs: "How He Loves." And nothing, no trace, of my mind doubts His enduring love for me. How can I believe so solidly in His love and yet deny its truth all in one breath of emotion? I'm still stumped.
Then I thought about how He's also my Father, which opens a completely new perspective. My 4-year-old doesn't necessarily deserve to know (nor would she understand) my reasons for every thing I do or don't allow. That concept resonates easily with me.
THEN I remembered that He's majestic and holy. And what business do I have demanding answers from Him? That concept always shuts me up.
Add to all that the grace He has extended to me. My friends, house, life, kids, health, marriage, talents, on and on. All that in addition to my forgiveness and eternity promised with Him?
"And all of a sudden I am unaware of these afflictions eclipsed by glory."
That is a line from "How He Loves." The song also talks about Him being a hurricane, and "I am a tree bending beneath the weight of His love and mercy." It reminds me of the conversation Rodney and I had with our valet driver in Puerto Rico about the ocean being analogous with God's love-- always, constantly coming at us, leaving us powerless to stop it.
I wish I could say that today's encounter cured me of the big hang-up I'm shoveling through. That my mind and hurt have been super-naturally healed. In fact, facing these thoughts surfaced more issues that I have placed with trust into the GKB slot. I have a feeling that's the enemy though.
The funny part is that this was all throughout communion. The time in my life where I thoroughly and honestly search my heart for resentment or bitterness toward anyone. Never would I have thought He was the one I would need to hash things out with.
It was interesting to me to learn that while I'm His love, I'm also His daughter, and I'm also simply part of His total creation. It's almost like a trinity of my own existence. They're all part of me, but they serve different roles in my communication with God. Maybe the next leg of this journey is to see how they can and do all work together. We'll see what kind of blog post THAT turns out to be :)
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