Managing Blessings

Feels like I'm losing my mind just a bit. I'm starting to forget things that I normally wouldn't let slip. My mom says that it's called "brain overload". Despite being BUSY (and maybe a bit overloaded), God is sustaining me. Some bright spots from my week...

• Waking this morning and immediately thinking 'what day is it?!' Feeling exhausted, I sit down to read. My devotion this morning? About RESTING and giving your time to God. Point taken, Lord. Even if I don't have a day to sacrifice, I can sacrifice other things: my heart, my thoughts, my daily activities. I can worship Him and spend time with Him anytime I want to. I finished Lysa Tyrkheurst's Unglued a couple of weeks ago. My favorite chapter was about being busy and losing it when you feel overwhelmed. Instead of thinking 'why do I have to deal with this?' or 'I have too much on my plate!', she explains that you are really just MANAGING BLESSINGS. Yes, we have jobs, kids, responsibilities. Yes, sucky things happen and people can be nasty. But you find the beauty in it all (if possible!). You find God and His message through it. Trafton is screaming "NO" at me? I am blessed to have a son who is healthy and can speak. Chamblee is pooping in the car? At least she has a GI track that works properly. I look like a cow in my shirt? I am blessed to have a closet of different options. The dog threw up on the carpet, the dishwasher is leaking, and the air conditioner isn't working?? I am blessed to have a handy husband :)

• Thrilled and deeply touched by a RAK (random act of kindness...any "Evan Almighty" fans?? Love that movie!) that I came home to yesterday. Opened a card from a childhood friend. Haven't seen her since her wedding a couple of years ago. She either noticed that I was going back to school or she heard from her mama (our families are still in touch). Either way, she took it upon herself to treat me with a Starbucks gift card (drool). She included a card: "As if working full time and having two kids weren't enough...you are amazing! Thought you could use a little caffeine to help you". MADE. MY. DAY. Not just cause it's Starbucks, but because it was random and heartfelt.

• So encouraged by a new mama friend. Her kids are in my classroom and I truly feel like God has ordained our friendship. I am praying for it to grow and blossom, as she believes in loving others and loving the Lord. She sent me encouragement this week in the form of an email. She asked me to consider Daniel 3: three men refuse to bow to Nebuchadnezzar. He throws them into the fire. Onlookers see four men inside- Jesus is with them. They talk for a bit, and then walk OUT OF THE FIRE, unharmed. Maybe my "fire" is being swamped with work, school, kids. Maybe my "fire" is frustration with others. Maybe it's frustrations with myself. But Jesus is standing and talking with me, and I can walk out of this fire unharmed.

• Also encouraged by a wise woman who I was able to talk with this week. Dealing with frustrations out of my control, this friend reminded me that in order to have peace, sometimes things or people are taken out of our lives. Sometimes peace may not flow like a river; sometimes peace is a SWORD. Sometimes things unfold a certain way-- it may be ugly and sad, but His will is unfolding and I have to yield to that. Turn away from evil and do good; seek peace and pursue it. (Psalm 34:14)

• Finally, excited about my new journey. The opportunity to love people and get a pay check for it. I realize loving folks in this new profession pursuit might involve some downright gross stuff. But He will equip me. Whoever wants to be great must become a servant. Whoever wants to be first among you must be your slave. (Matt 20: 27)

Spiritual Surgery

God has been operating on my heart recently and it HURTS. He is carving out the bad and reconstructing things. I read once before that spiritual surgery is much more painful than physical surgery.

In 16 years of believing in Jesus, I have never been as consistent in my morning time with Him. Sure, it sucks when my alarm clock buzzes at 4:45, but once I stand up, I'm usually good. I am a morning person but my poor husband is not...you can imagine his happiness when I wake him in the wee hours. Take this morning, for instance, when I remembered something in the middle of my quiet time, jumped on the bed and whispered "honey!" and started tapping him. Still, he patiently mumbles an answer (which he doesn't recall later).

Anywho, the mornings have become my solace, my grounding, my prep for the day. Understand, I am not commending or bragging about myself. I am still the same giddy, emotional, slightly screwed-up woman that I was before. But I am learning to slowly control my reactions to things, with God's grace. I am seeking out peace. And as long as I am seeking Him and listening to the Holy Spirit, I am doing what's right.

This week, I felt an urgency to confess to and ask someone for forgiveness. I did not deserve it, but I could hear God saying "Go, do it now". So I obeyed. And my universe feels "righted". I felt off-kilter before and since following His prompting and seeking peace, I feel resolved.

Not only because I hopefully rekindled a friendship, but also because I was brave in Him. God gave me the courage to approach a challenge that I was, in truth, quite nervous about. And He remained steadfast and held my hand.

Suddenly, every verse I read seems applicable. Every song lyric that gets stuck in my head is somehow descriptive of current struggles or celebrations. (Unless, of course, we're talking "Twinkle Twinkle" or "Ten Little Monkeys".)

In his book, Forgotten God, Francis Chan encourages readers to "surrender yourself and invite Him (the Holy Spirit) truly to dwell within you, whatever that may mean and wherever that may take you."

He explains that "the spirit of the living God is guaranteed to ask you to go somewhere or do something you normally wouldn't want or choose to do. The Spirit will lead you to the way of the cross...definitely not a safe or pretty or comfortable place to be."

Truly, as He has worked on my heart, it's been difficult. The past few weeks have been painful but empowering. And I have all I need to continue..."his name shall be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace." (Isaiah 9:6)

Blessings Abound

When you have everything,
You have everything to lose…

A candle throws its light into the darkness
In a nasty world, so shines the good deed

Make sure the fortune, that you seek
Is the fortune you need.

 

(Ben Harper, Diamonds on the Inside)

 

Lately, I feel such a longing for my God. Hard to explain, but I've found myself craving my time with Him each morning. I can't wait to get up, have coffee, and just be in His presence. Recently, I can feel Him reminding me of all that He has showered me with...
 

Like coworkers that truly love from deep within. Friday, I met a friend in the hallway who just wanted a hug. We wound up discussing the overwhelming feeling you sometimes get as a wife, mom, teacher, maid, etc. Well, I say we "discussed"...it was more like me venting and her listening. What a blessing to commiserate with such a sweet soul. Earlier in the week, I spent some time on the playground with some of our amazing kindergarten assistants. We shared stories about our children, which lead to praise and stories of how the Lord has brought us where we are now. I got so happy and excited that I could've thrown up a tent and shouted "glory" at the top of my lungs. It was straight revival time, we all joked. I love hearing from other women/mommies who rejoice in where they have been and all that they have learned.

 

Another blessing: realizing and feeling how large and connected God's kingdom really is. It's no accident that I am given students whose parents are believers; it's no accident that we are awarded opportunities to share that we know and love Christ. And the coolest part of my week?? Making a friend in Uganda! Yep, AFRICA. "Meeting" another sister who is halfway around the world from me, and being blessed by her words and wisdom. The Lord knew I needed someone to understand the longing inside my heart, so He provided.

 

God's provisions also come in the form of a feisty little two-year-old and his little bundle of a sister...
Like when Trafton covers his eyes to count during hide and seek. His stubby little fingers cover half of his eyes, while he peeks out of the open areas. He counts "1, 2, 1, 2, 9" and then informs us "ready, set!"
Or when he enters the room and sees his sister, he shouts out "Hey, Mae Mae! Kiss her!" and insists on giving Chamblee a smooch. This certainly makes a mama's heart happy.

Suffering through a hug from mom...just up from a nap. He wakes up like Daddy....slowly.

Sweet girl enjoying the exersaucer :)

 



I am so very fortunate.

I have God's more-than-enough,
More joy in one ordinary day...
At day's end I'm ready for sound sleep,
For you, God, have put my life back together.
(Psalm 4: 7, 8)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Knit Together

You have searched me, Lord,
    and you know me.
 You know when I sit and when I rise;
    you perceive my thoughts from afar....

For you created my inmost being;
    you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
    your works are wonderful,
    I know that full well.

(Psalm 139)

I am struggling, fighting between what I should be doing and what the devil injects into my brain. I have struggled with this demon for years- 14 to be exact- and it's rearing it's ugly head. Prayer, positive thoughts, scripture on my mirror all seem to help some. Insecurities run wild. Fortunately, my Father God is stronger. He takes my weakness and turns it into something He can work with. My prayers vacillate between wanting to get better and not wanting to heal, instead justifying what I'm struggling with as "normal" or something that will pass. Hasn't passed in 14 years, not sure what makes me think that one day it will disappear.

No matter what I pray or plead, somehow God meets me right when I need Him. On Monday morning, I was having an especially hard time. Y'all, He HANDED me scripture. I read, in 1 Kings, about Solomon's temple that was to honor God. Then I happened to pick up Forgotten God (Francis Chan) and read a few pages. What was this chapter about? Why, taking care of God's temple, of course. And he wasn't speaking of a literal temple. Instead, Chan was referring to our bodies- the shell that God has gifted us to walk through this life inside of. Once we know Christ, He equips us with the Holy Spirit. He accompanies us as we weave down the road of life. He tells me where to turn and how fast to go. I may not always adhere to His directions, but He IS there, gently prodding. I SHOULD let him be the driver, but instead I push Him into the passenger seat.

On Monday morning, after reading these two things, I went to get ready for work. As I dried my hair, I glanced at Chamblee's ultrasound pics that are stuck to our bathroom mirror. Wow, I thought, these look so different now that I know her heart and her personality. She is no longer a simple black and white photo, just a skeleton. She smiles, she cries, and she blesses me with her life. I realized, suddenly, that this is what I am to God...not merely a shell of bones and muscles, but a Spirit-filled child with a heart for Him and for others. He doesn't care if my shell is perfect; He cares what I'm doing with what He has given me.


All this pain
I wonder if I’ll ever find my way
I wonder if my life could really change at all
All this earth
Could all that is lost ever be found
Could a garden come up from this ground at all

You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of the dust
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of us
(Gungor)

Changing

Come gather 'round people
Wherever you roam
And admit that the waters
Around you have grown
And accept it that soon
You'll be drenched to the bone
If your time to you
Is worth savin'
Then you better start swimmin'
Or you'll sink like a stone
For the times they are a-changin'.
                           (Bob Dylan)

I love those moments when your world sort of freezes for a second; you have some sort of epiphany and you realize that your thinking may not ever be the same. Today it hit me: I have "transitioned". I wanted to write that I am OLD, but I honestly don't believe that. I'd rather go with "experienced" or "wise" (insert loud laughter).

Today, as I sat in the doctor's office, I glanced through a magazine and sent some text messages. As I reached to put my phone back into my purse, I paused. Is that? Could it be? No way! YES- a dried booger. ON MY PURSE. I wasn't sure what to do: laugh, be mortified, or both. I wondered how long it had been there. I can tell you exactly how it happened. My stinker of a son walked by my purse, which I hang on the kitchen barstool, and decided that it was the perfect place to wipe his recently snotty nose. I had to smile; I was "that mom". Ready for the sick part? I didn't even mind it being there. It was a nice reminder of my child. Ten years ago, if I emptied my purse, you'd find my phone, a calendar, wallet, gum, and other girly odds and ends. Now?? Still these essentials, along with crunched-up cheerios, used tissues, possibly a sippy cup, and let's not forget the hospital bracelets that were snipped from my 2nd child's birth. (Yes, I realize that these should be somewhere sacred....it's funny how different your experience proves to be with the second child.)

Next, I sped across the street to get groceries while I had grandma at home to watch the littles. Loaded my cart up with formula and other snacks, then went to the checkout line. In front of me? A 20-something young woman in tall heels, a tight skirt, perfect hair. And what was she buying? Well, as I loaded my cans of formula and green beans onto the conveyor belt, she easily handed the cashier two bottles of white wine....and that's all. I was tempted to barter with her...hey, I'll trade you a can of puffs for a swig of that wine! Or maybe a jar of JIF for a teeny sip? As I left the store, I walked behind her and watched several men stare after her. (It was actually me that they were staring at, but I let her enjoy the moment. Ha!) I found myself smiling and thanking God for my life. That was literally me ten years ago (minus the skinny legs)...single, heels on my feet, and ready to have a good time. I called Chris and told him that I felt like I'd just watched myself walk out of the store.

I have gone from a single and free young woman to a married and free young mother. Yes, I have experienced freedom in both of these life stages, but in such different forms. Ten years ago, I was graduating college, staying out all night, and doing who-knows-what. I was free to roam and free of commitments. No job, no ring on my finger, and no little ones to watch over. Now, I enjoy a deeper freedom. I am free to mess up (royally, at times!) because I know that my family and my God will forgive me. I know that I am living in the midst of this beautiful plan that God created; I am free to be myself because I finally know exactly who I am.

Will dance for food...

So thankful for precious moments with my family. Lately, I feel like I need to walk around with a video camera or a notebook, recording everything...

Like this morning...it's Crazy Hair Day at school and I'm frantically trying to put my hair into pigtails. Haven't tried that in a while- I need to brush up on my pigtailin' skills before Chamblee gets older. Since I couldn't part the back, I enlisted my husband. At one point, I would've done just about anything for a camera. I was holding one section of hair, Chris' arm was linked through mine and holding another section while he tried to part the back. After that, he tied the big ribbons on each side. That's my man. He anticipated his late arrival to work:
Why are you late, Cranford?
Well, sir, I was helping my wife do her pigtails.

Like when Chamblee smiles her "squinty" smile. Her little mouth turns up and her eyes wrinkle; I can't help but smile back. Or when she talks to me as I work in the kitchen. She sits in her bouncy seat and just goes on and on. (Wonder who she inherited that from?! Hint: not her daddy.) Or when I go upstairs to get her every morning. Grunting and squirming, but she immediately calms when I say "Good morning, Mae Mae". She stills and then smiles. Last night, as I listened to Chris and Trafton in the bathtub, I sat with my daughter on the bed. She would squirm, pass gas, and smile her squinty smile. Ahh, precious memories.

My favorite recent story involves T. and his insatiable desire for tootsie rolls. A bag mysteriously wound up in our pantry (Thanks, Papa.) and everytime he spots them, he cries out "Mama! Toosie roll, peas." Finally, after he asked over and over again one evening, I told him he could have one if he did the tootsie roll dance for me. After a blank stare, I blurted out "Cotton candy, sweet as gold! Let me see you tootsie roll!" And what does my two-year-old son do? He starts shakin' it, of course. So fast-forward a few days and imagine my son in his bed, fussing because he doesn't want to go to sleep for some reason. This is rare for him; Trafton usually goes to bed easily-- plays for a while and then drifts off. For some reason, on this particular night, he just wouldn't let up. I went up to see what was going on. He looked at me, shouted out "Mama! Toosie roll!" and started dancing. Chris just shook his head...."That's YOUR child", he said.

He's silly, but he's sweet. We were playing "Seek" outside the other day after I got home from work. He holds my hand and says "wif me", instructing me to come with him. He leads me to the bushes and tells me where to hide. "I seek"-- he plans to come find me. But first? "Tight hug" and he squeezes me. Takes a few steps away and then runs back. "Tight hug! Again!" I hope he always finds it hard to leave his mama without a few good squeezes.

On Sunday, we were going to visit some precious friends and we came to a standstill on the interstate. Two firetrucks rushed past and then several state troopers. After a few minutes of waiting, I teared up. Before you laugh, let me explain. As we sat there, I was sure that someone was seriously hurt or even dead. I imagined us driving up to the scene and seeing a dead body. Then I thought of the family who would have to deal with it, and that's when the tears started to form. Trafton, always the observant little man, suddenly says "Mama! Better! Better, mama." I smiled weakly at him, then he looks up at Chris and instructs: "Daddy! Help, mommy!" Only 2 years old, and already taking care of his mama. When I was pregnant with him, my prayer was to have a compassionate child. I pray that his heart continues to grow and that he continues to watch over others.

Naked

You're blessed when you're content with just who you are- no more, no less. That's the moment you find yourselves proud owners of everything that can't be bought. 

(The Message, Matt. 5:4)

I remember, in college, when I asked a newlywed friend of mine about married life. We talked specifically about intimacy and having someone see you without your clothes on. I remember saying "No way! I will never be comfortable enough with another person to let them see me naked." This friend assured me that she used the feel the same, but because of her husband's heart and the covenant that they shared, she was free. She would even walk around the house naked. 'What?!' I thought, 'I will never be able to do that!'

Then you have babies, and all modesty/concerns about your body FLY OUT THE WINDOW. Poor Chris- I'm surprised he hasn't lost his sight after seeing me in certain situations. Puke, poop, blood...nothing seems to rattle him. He helps me without laughing (or by making me laugh, if it's the right situation) and doesn't think twice.


I know another woman who once told me that her husband had never seen her without makeup. I'm sorry....come again?! I must've misheard you. I thought that you said your spouse had never seen you made up. Holy moly. Again, poor Chris. He claims that he likes the way I look without makeup. Put your glasses back on, is what I tell him.

It's funny: we are so critical of ourselves. We dissect the way that we look and how we present ourselves to the outside world. We compare and wonder if we look as nice as the next woman. But reality is this: God watches me walk around "naked". He sees ALL of my flaws and doesn't think twice. Cellulite on my legs, or the flaws of my human heart. It doesn't matter- He still believes that I am worthy. I don't have to paint my face, shave my legs, or straighten my hair. I do these things because they help me feel comfortable, but I know that I am worth more. Make up, hair, clothes do not define me. My flabby skin, my increasing wrinkles and my scars are all reminders; they are reminders of where I have been and all that I have conquered. They are symbols of where God has taken me and what He has brought me through.