Sacred Building

Stepping across the threshold, even as we chatted amongst ourselves and searched for seats, there was just something expectant about that place, something that waited in the wings, the moment that we had marked on our calendars weeks ago in pen, that we had agreed to when we received the invitation, that we had placed as a reminder on our phones lest we forget.

That we would gather together, that we would come from our homes and our jobs, in faded jeans and professional attire, that we would come from children that needed feeding and homework left unfinished, that we would set aside the outside world and step into the sanctuary for one purpose..... to pray.

There is something beautiful, something special and soothing about candlelight. About sitting in the central glow of that meeting place even though the pews stretched far to the left and the right, and women of all ages and stages of life pulled themselves away from the desire to have a space solely theirs and instead huddled in the middle of that large room to align our hearts to one purpose ....to pray.

It's a wonder we don't desire to do it more often, to embrace the beauty of a gathering of women talking to the Almighty as a unified body, to grab hold of the rarity that is found in leaving all competition and comparison at the door and simply coming as daughters of the King, each beloved, each treasured and each one asking that Father hear our cries as we.....pray.

September 14th, just a typical late summer/ early fall Monday, not found to have any special notation of holiday celebration in my day planner, and yet marked with a passion and desire that spread across the states, across the continents and into countries far and near to come together, in Nehemiah like fashion.....to pray.

And it was beautiful.

The sacred building of the wall that has been torn down by the enemy. Sitting in the rubble, knowing full well that we have left our homes, our cities, our country exposed to attack. And so, while we sleep and while we go about our days, he slides across the dusty bricks and through the cracks and holes and goes about injuring our lives and our families. Injured and bleeding, overwhelmed by what we are facing we weep and mourn what has been lost, but it seems to try and rebuild may just be too much for the one, there is no fathomable way we could do it alone.

So, in that place of worship, we gathered together and we planted our knees on holy ground and lifted our hands and joined together to build once more with our words whispered and hearts fervently beating and heads bowed in prayer.

Indwelt

Arriving in the midst of colorful spring blossoms, tucked away in one of my daily devotionals, without any grand fanfare or warning has been my most recent bout of reprogramming my thinking.

Have you ever had those moments? 

The light switch flicks on and you see truth for what it is, and yet to accept that truth, to truly embrace it, to let it take root in your life means you have to grab the eraser and furiously try and clear the board of what you had once thought, chalking in this new piece of information even though you can still see the faintest shadow of your past ideas stained on the chalkboard surface. 

There really isn't anyone to blame, as I think it only natural that I felt that there is a big "G" God and He is the main one in command and so therefore, on most days, I seem to forget that there are three equal parts to the trinity - God is God, Jesus is God and the Holy Spirit is God. And, I don't dare begin to try and explain that one much further, because I can get confused in trying to read text on the subject, forcing my eyes to go back over the same lines again and again trying to make sense of it all. 

Yet, when I started reading Francis Chan's "Forgotten God," and he said something about step one being that you have to stop thinking about the Holy Spirit as an "it" and start thinking of Him as God, then my wheels started to spin. And while they may slow down or take a break, they are still caught in motion because I'm still trying to remind myself that the Holy Spirit is not this come and go presence, or a well meaning guidance counselor somewhat confused with my conscience, but He is indeed God. I'm so consumed with big "G" God that I have indeed forgotten, downsized, devalued this piece of the trinity. 

And running along this line of thinking that has spanned over days and weeks, and having scripture repetitiously hit me from different sources with the same verses, I am once again forced to rethink my thoughts on my body being a temple.

"Do you not know that you are a temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwells in you?" 1 Corinthians 3:16

The answer is, no, I don't think I've truly known the depths of that question. I always got caught up in this verse as some sort of weapon that people who felt the need to pick apart your life placed in their arsenal. 

Are you sure you want to eat that cake, don't you know your body is a temple?

You should stop smoking because you know, your body is a temple.

Those lines of ink forever pushed into the layers of skin on your body, what would God say about you tattooing His temple?

I must confess, I've always just breezed past the mentions of my body being a temple because I'd already gotten more than a few pointed comments regarding said scripture and I didn't feel I needed any more criticism. 

Then the light switch was thrown, and that corner of my mind that had heard the Word of God, the scriptures written down by mere men, realized I had missed the biggest picture of all. 

The Holy Spirit dwells in me.

God dwells in me.

I am the temple, the vessel, the sanctuary, the girl who heard the word of truth and was sealed with the promised Holy Spirit. (Ephesians 1:13)

And all of a sudden, with this rush of awareness, becomes this frantic dash to try and clean house. Under full blown wattage of exposure, I realize that the temple is dirty, but it's less about cigarettes and junk food, it's about greed and lust and anger and envy and hate and bitterness and lack of self-control and, oh my goodness, this temple is a wreck! The carnage of sin that I have paid little attention to is crowding up the corners and collecting dust on shelving. 

There is this ache that has formed just underneath the edge of my rib cage and with eyes wet with tears of mourning because this, this temple suddenly seems uninhabitable, with cracks in the wall gaping and this is no sanctuary for the Most High, this is a hovel. It became overwhelming, my less than state and I thought, how can it be that the Holy Spirit has not insisted that He be allowed to pack up and move out, how can God be so patient to stay with me and not abandon me as a lost cause? 

With soothing waves of calm, in the midst of my despair did God remind me of His Word, "For from His fullness we have all received, grace upon grace." John 1:16

Does grace ever stop being sweet? Or, as one may often hear, amazing?  Will there ever be a ceasing of moments when I will need another layer, another helping of grace, another reminder that grace is abundant and forgiveness is available and with clarity comes repentance and grace once more? I think not. And with freshly renewed thankfulness, I cling to the promise that it will always be there because without it I am lost.  

-C

A New Age

I was sort of waiting for the panic to set in.

When the calendar turned to reveal August the 1^st, the countdown was on, the big 4-0 was just 31 days away. This is it people, the last month in my thirties. The day before my birthday, I was reminded it was the last Sunday of my 30's during the last weekend in my 30's, and that night on Facebook, it was the last two hours of my 30's. It humorously felt like I was on some sort of prison sentence countdown. Doesn’t matter how much you wish or hope or dream, the minutes keep ticking away and there is no grabbing hold of that 3 and refusing to let go. Cue panic, chaos, and living it up because once you reach August 31st, the decade begins that starts with the number 4! 

But honestly, I woke up Sunday and felt like me, and when I woke up Monday morning, I felt like….well me. Looking in the mirror, 39-year-old me and 40-year-old me could pass as twins. Same red hair with several white strands mixed in as artful highlights by the Master Creator. Same teeth, all mine. Pretty sure my freckles numbered the same yesterday as they do today but when you own 469,232 of them, you tend to forget if that one about an inch and a half below your right elbow was there last week or you got it at the park on Sunday.

It’s amazing is it not, that as a child, you keep daydreaming forward in your mind. You want to hit 10 so you can claim double digits finally, you want to be 16 so you can finally learn how to drive, 18 marks graduation and being an “adult,’ and 21 lets you hand over your I.D. at the bar for an overpriced bottle of lousy beer.

There's always a better birthday that you're waiting for. I can’t wait to get to the next milestone! To be older! To do more things! Freedom lies just around the bend if you could only make the years go faster, you could reach the destination sooner! Ugh, come on time!

And then with an ear piercing squeal of slamming breaks and the smell of rubber burning, we hit 30 and birthdays turn into the never ending 29^th birthday joke. It's your birthday? You must be turning 29. *wink, wink, nudge, nudge* Could someone explain what was so great about 29? Honestly, it had its high points and low points, but I’m not begging to revisit any time soon.

Nevertheless, it feels like 30 is the magic number that we begin looking back at wistfully, trying to return to where we used to be. As if we missed the guideline on aging in the manual on life that said rush to this point then firmly plant your roots and hold on for dear life because you don’t want to age anymore! Getting older equals body pain, wrinkly skin, complaining about whatever suits your mood and all your meals get moved up around 3 hours. 

I don’t know, maybe I’ll get to a point in my life where I say, “it was so much better when I was younger,” but I’m hoping it isn’t 40. True, I have zero clue as to why God found fit to allow women my age to grow random hairs in the middle of the night that stick out of your neck and you just cannot be at peace until you’ve located the tweezers and eradicated the hairy invader, but I like “40” me a whole lot more than “20” me.

20-year-old me wasn’t real happy with God, had pretty much decided she had better things to do and set out on achieving the things everyone wants – money, job advancement, fun, stuff, etc. She spent years putting that first and wound up with much of nothing. We moved and the job ended. The stuff equated to debt that required years to get rid of, and when I moved, the shallow friendships built primarily on crazy girl nights fizzled out. The me of the past may have had what she thought was “fun” at the time, but it was really a space in time that consisted of short highs of personal pleasure that didn’t last and had little substance.

Fast forward to 40-year-old me. It is true that over the years since turning 20, I’ve lost both my mother and father, and it is also true that I’ve watched my husband lose his job twice. I opened my home to my father-in-law who stayed with us until he died of cancer. My husband was diagnosed with a never ending illness, kids struggled in school, and a host of other moments that still bring tears to my eyes when I think back on them.

But…

I’ve also traveled across the globe to love on the sweetest people you’ll ever meet and I've had the joy of listening to children’s laughter mixed in with words of a foreign tongue. I’ve got friends in different time zones who amaze me with the way they serve God. I’m surrounded by men and woman who inspire and challenge me to live each and every day intentionally, not wanting to press the fast forward button, but content to sit right here in this moment. I realize the value of having a husband of 21 years who lays beside me in bed and talks about life and who still gives me back rubs. I’ve got an 18-year-old who is pulling away from my nest, and yet, there’s a beauty to being able to let go of some of the smothering and just being able to enjoy time with him. His younger brother crossed the threshold into high school this year and his younger sister isn’t far behind. There’s a tiny redhead who calls me Nana that watches cartoons with me on Saturday afternoons, snuggled under her Frozen blanket and we take the best naps together. And somewhere out there are a few more faces who I’ll hopefully call son or daughter that I haven’t even met yet.

Is my body not quite what it used to be? Well yeah, it’s been living 40 years. That’s 14,600 days or 350,400 hours. It’s put in the time, it’s allowed to sag and creak a little. Grace, 40-year-old body, I didn’t take care of you quite like I should, but you still give good hugs and you get me where I need to go. We’re doing just fine.

In the middle of all the wonderful things in my life, are there still moments when the money runs short, the test results are scary, someone in my house makes a poor decision, or the phone call means that it’s time to say goodbye to another loved one? Of course there are. Age doesn't equal a magic get out of tough moments free pass. But 40-year-old me has a support network that will pray and love and comfort that 20-year-old me just didn’t have that.  

God’s a whole lot bigger than I thought He was all those years ago. He really is in control and He’s really seen all my days, no surprises for Him. He knows I’m going to mess up but forgiveness is in endless supply, and He really does love me enough to want good for me even when it feels painfully bad.

So, the whole big birthday thing? Well, I can’t say I’ve really gotten used to carrying the mantle of the number 40. Like a jacket that seems a little large, I still feel like I did last Thursday when I was still 39 and I just don't quite fit into this new piece of my identity. It’s hard to wrap my mind around the fact that thirties are gone and for the next ten years I will be a 40-something.

But God has this thing about changing a person. He isn’t one to leave you stagnant, frozen in a moment, a finished product just waiting for the end to come to pass. So, who knows what changes the 40-somethings will hold. It’s kind of exciting and hopeful, getting past the yuck of the past and walking towards the better. (Not to mention the 40th birthday party was fantastic! Goes down as one of my best days ever. Who knows, maybe the 50th one will be even better!)   

IF: Equip, Day 3, Nehemiah 2:9-20

If you'd like to read today's passage of scripture, please click here.

Finally, we're getting somewhere, right? Nehemiah has packed up his bags with the king's favor shown by the letters in his hand, and he's on the road back to Jerusalem. We're gonna see some action! Bricks are going to be laid, the people will be on the road to recovery. Nope.

Looking at this scripture, it doesn't really seem like we make it very far at all. We're still waiting to start the rebuild...is that a theme I'm supposed to be getting in this? Waiting? I hate waiting. I am the queen of impatience.

What I take away from this passage:

• v.11 - Nehemiah's finally back in Jerusalem, in fact for whatever reason, scripture points out that he's been there for 3 days. Now, I can't say for sure how things played out back then, but when I look back at the scripture prior to this passage, and in v. 9, Nehemiah is traveling officers of the army and letters of the king. Anyone else think this had to gather at least a little bit of attention? This wasn't just a man on a donkey traveling the countryside. Makes you wonder what his arrival was like. Did the people know who he was? That he was a Jew? Did they immediately start asking him questions? Had the rumor mill run ahead of him and news of the cup bearer's return reached Jerusalem before he did? I want to know what went on in those first three days!
• v. 12-13,16 - In these verses we see that Nehemiah gets up and goes out in the night to survey the city. Personally, I'm a night owl girl. In fact, no matter the season, I have let my dog out for the night and just stood on the back porch looking up at the sky. Living out in the country, I find it peaceful to just let the stillness, the gentle sounds of nature, the cool air brings inner peace. The world may still be in turmoil, but for a moment, I'm just a child of the Maker of the Universe standing in the light of the moon He placed in the sky, and for a moment, problems don't seem quite so large. I can imagine that had it been the heat of day, Nehemiah wouldn't have had the chance to truly get a look at the work to be done uninterrupted. Also, we see Nehemiah's ability to be patient and to show restraint in that he hasn't given in to the desire to rush around and tell the people, "Look, I've come so we can start fixing this wall! Don't be sad! There's hope!" If the people were as dismayed as we read at the beginning of the book, I would have understood immediately wanting to bring them something to lift their spirits. And yet, Nehemiah "told no one what my God had put on my heart to do for Jerusalem." 
• v.14 - The one thing that caught my attention in this singular verse is that his animal didn't have room to pass. For me, it just paints a visual picture of how great the destruction of the wall could have been that an animal made to travel rocky terrain couldn't pass through. Thinking back to pictures I've seen of rubble left behind after a natural disaster or during a war, I can only imagine that after being freed from their exiled captivity, Israel returns to the place God has set aside for them and just sees this mess. The wall around the city in heaps of rubble and ruin, the protection it offered gone. It must have been so upsetting and disheartening, their spirits must have been torn back down by what they came home to.
• v.16 -  Nehemiah clarifies once more in v.16, "And the officials did not know where I had gone or what I was doing, and I  had not yet told the Jews, the priests, the nobles, the officials, and the rest who were to do the work." Again, I am halted by the restraint Nehemiah showed in keeping things to himself. 
• v.17-20 - Finally, the cat's out of the bag. Nehemiah has shared with the people the plan to rebuild what was destroyed. And so sets the stage for what I already know is coming up more than once in the chapters to come - God's work going forth and opposition that arises.  The people finally have a godly leader, they have backing from the king, they have started to prepare themselves and have "strengthened their hands for the good work," (v.18) and still, someone has to come along and start trouble, spitting out ugly words of negativity meant to stop them in their tracks. I've been there. And there are times when I have kept right on moving forward, and there are times when I have stopped, thought about it, and decided maybe those voices have a point. Maybe they are right. But Nehemiah, he stands firm and fires back with "The God of heaven will make us prosper, and we his servants will arise and build..."(v.20)

I don't believe God has stopped calling His people forward to do His work. In a world of brokenness and despair, it may not be the remnants of a physical wall surrounding out home, but I  know we've taken a few hits and there are gaping holes that we have unprotected from our enemy's next attack. If we went out in the middle of the night tonight, under the light of the moon and just wandered through the streets and homes where we live, I wonder just what kind of damage we'd find.

It's tempting to want to rush forward and do something. It's tempting to want to run in with a mouth full of words, letting them spill out in hopes of lifting someone's hope. It's another to wait on God's timing, to follow His direction even when He says, for this moment, you need to be silent. You need to keep praying. You need to let Me lead. You need to trust and follow. Oh, to be a Nehemiah in a fast-paced world wanting quick fixes that momentarily numb the pain.

And when we finally get that green light, when all the excitement to see just what God can do jumps around inside us and we finally get to share, what will we do when someone says it will never work? You and your faith may have worked in the past, but this world, it doesn't want what you have. It needs real solutions, not what you're trying to share. What then? Will we still choose to take the next step, will we continue to hold tight to the fact that WE will never be the solution, but the God of heaven? Oh, He can do so much more than we could ever imagine.

May we be determined to be His servants. In this broken world, may we arise and begin to build.

Till next time! - C

If: Equip, Day 2, Nehemiah 2:1-8

Day 2 of the IF:Prayer study has us sitting in the presence of a Persian king, as Nehemiah the cup bearer is presenting the wine. If you wish to visit the IF: Equip page for today's study, please click here. If you wish to read through today's passage, please follow the link to Bible Gateway here.

Some of my thoughts as I was reading through Nehemiah 2:1-8:

• v.1 - "I had not been sad in his presence." Leaving Nehemiah as I did in Chapter 1, in a state of fasting, mourning and weeping and pouring out his prayers to God, I have to wonder how well he did at not being sad. I'm awful at hiding my true feelings, so, I'm always intrigued by those that can put up a good enough front as to mask their emotions.
• v.2-3 - So, maybe our main character didn't do such a good job pretending anyhow, because the king inquires that not only is Nehemiah possessing a sad face, but he characterizes it as a "sickness of the heart." This isn't just a bad day or a spring cold that's got him down, it's an inner sadness that sits right at the center of the cup bearer. But, what I love even more is the very honest and human reaction that, even though he mentions that he was afraid when the king asked, Nehemiah just starts spilling out all his sorrow in verse 3. It's like the bottle has been uncapped and all the contents under pressure burst out, and his wording may seem a little dramatic as he recounts all his woes, but I think the weight of the state of Jerusalem is still so heavy and tender for Nehemiah. 
• v.4 - One of the lessons to be learned from Nehemiah in these verses for me sits right here. The kings asks what his servant is requesting and we read in verse 4, Nehemiah "prayed to the God of heaven." You know he had to have the answer already on the tip of his tongue. And while Nehemiah may have been abundant in relaying his troubles in verse 3, here in verse 4, he shows enough restraint, enough wisdom to stop and pray before talking. I do NOT possess this trait 24/7, especially if it is a heavy burden that has me in emotional knots. There's a really good chance that I've already mentioned to God in my prayers, and as He sees the innermost parts of me, the plans that I've formulated to make things better. So, the answer to the question, 'What's your request? What do you want?' could've have gotten an immediate breakdown of my ideas. Whether he was praying for the right words, or for God to grant him the courage to be bold and ask, or for the king's heart to be pliant to his requests, or all the above, Nehemiah prayed before speaking. 
• v. 5- 8 - Each time I read through Nehemiah, there's a certain encouragement that comes from the boldness displayed in Nehemiah's answer. Not only does he ask to rebuild the wall of Jerusalem, to take a leave of absence from being in the king's court, but he asks for the king to take it a step further, giving him safe passage and supplies to do the work. I'm not real sure how important cup bearers were to the grand scheme of a throne room, or if there was more to the king and Nehemiah's relationship than king and servant, but to ask for the king to help in Nehemiah's task of rebuilding a Jewish city and temple seems a little crazy. But, he does it, and the king agrees. Do you think this all went down in the throne room and the other people in there were like, mouths open, stunned in silence by this interaction between Jewish man and the Persian king? Nevertheless, we see that the Nehemiah's success lay in the fact that "the good hand of my God was upon me." (v.8)

So, what does all this mean in regards to God, the world and myself? In today's society, with all the changes in laws and political seats, it's can be disheartening to a Christian. It feels like we're becoming a tiny piece of the picture, fading into the background, even chastised for our beliefs. It's easy to forget in the face of the world around us, that God is bigger than any earthly ruler and that hasn't changed from the days when He moved the mind of a Persian king to grant the request of Israelite servant cup bearer. Don't lose hope and faith that God is ultimately in control and if it's in His plans, it will happen.

As for me, I'm reminded that in all things, my focus has to remain on God. Whether it be that moment when I need to find the words to say, the answers I'm seeking, or whether I'm searching for the courage to take the first step and follow His plans, I must be centered on Him. Stop and pray. Be bold and find my strength in the Lord. He's so much bigger than the earthly, He is above all things and that will never change.

May the good hand of my God be upon me today and every day.

Till next time - C

IF:Equip, Day 1, Nehemiah 1

Last week it was brought to my attention that the website If:Equip was starting a study of the book of Nehemiah. Not your typical study with homework pages and small group get togethers, but more a time to read through the scripture, reflect and pray on it. I have studied the book of Nehemiah twice now, each time covering every verse, but honestly, I have felt a great need to have a time of focused prayer in my life right now and this appears to be a wonderful opportunity, so I decided to take part. 

The reading started yesterday with the Nehemiah Chapter 1, and please know that it isn't too late if you'd like to join in reading along with women across the country. What a wonderful thing to be a part of a larger group of women of all ages, races, and locations, studying the Word together and sharing what we're taking from the passage! 

So, with all that said, I'm choosing to blog my thoughts from Day 1, Nehemiah, Chapter 1. Please click HERE if you'd like to read the scripture passage in its entirety. 

Things that stuck out to me when I read through Nehemiah 1:

• Verses 2 - 3: Jerusalem is a hot mess. The people are a mess, in great trouble and shame. The physical wall and gates are busted up. All of this is post exile. This is the state of the survivors. It just reminds me that just because you endure a moment of crisis, it doesn't mean that everything is a-okay. Sometimes the effects of a moment of pain last far beyond the actual moment.
• Verse 4: In response to the news, Nehemiah is truly broken over the state of things. He shows an outward focus, a deep love for others that brings about weeping and mourning for days. When have I felt so moved, such care and compassion as Nehemiah shows here? I think this is a perfect example of the commandment to "love your neighbor as yourself."  
• Verse 4: Nehemiah does not automatically go into fix it mode. There is no committee formed that sends out feelers for people to volunteer who have building skills. No, his answer is to first go to the One who is ultimately in control and seeking His guidance first. And notice that Nehemiah approaches God with an offering of sacrifice, choosing to fast and pray, taking away his own sustenance and replacing it with seeking God's counsel. That is such a contrary, unique, uncommon practice than how I usually respond when I am facing a problem,
• Nehemiah's Prayer, Verses 5 - 11:
• There's an acknowledgment of who God is first and foremost
• He requests that his words be heard, an earnest asking for attention
• We see an acceptance of Israel's and his part in this. There is no denial or evading of sin, but instead he comes acknowledging that God had told them beforehand what would happen, that there would be a separation. I think sometimes (okay, often), when I am battling a particular issue, I don't like to take the time to reflect. To see how I got into the mess, confessing my own responsibility and sin, I just like to focus on the God fixing things for me instead. Accepting a role in some of the places I've landed can be painful.
• A repetition of the asking to be heard (v.11). I think anytime you see something repeated, it carries a little more weight, and in this case, it makes me feel the depth of Nehemiah's emotional state when he's praying. That he is just desperate and earnest and pleading with his words, and therefore he is asking once more that God would hear him. 
• Finally he comes asking for success and mercy. No doubt, hearing the news of Jerusalem was fresh in Nehemiah's mind, and so it could be tempting just to charge forth and start praying up the requests, but notice, he takes the time to praise, to acknowledge, to confess first. 

So, what does this mean about God, about me, and the world?

Well, when I read it, the words may have been Old Testament, but they're still true and applicable to day. I'm living in a world that is broken, and just because my fellow humans may make it through a physical catastrophe or a financial crisis, it doesn't mean everything's 100% repaired. Often, there's as much to be done in the repairing and restoration as there was in the surviving. God is still in control and He is still the answer for the question, what do I do now? Seeking Him first should always be my first step. I also certainly think I could take a page from Nehemiah's book on what it means to be whole-heartedly upset and caring for others who may be going through a troubled time. To sacrifice something of me to go to God on their behalf is not a typical behavior I practice. Like most of the world around me, I'm so focused and pouring my efforts and attention into what affects me and those closest to me, that I feel I can't spare very much for others. A pray here and there, maybe, but weeping, mourning and fasting? No, probably not. This passage is an encouragement as to how I respond to what I see going on around me, even if it isn't happening in my own house. 

Seeing as I know how things play out in this book, I know that God can move in a mighty way when His people act as Nehemiah did. So, I'm excited to come alongside the IF group and apply these days of scriptural study to my life. 

Till next time - C

The Weight of Words

I'm a writer. I'm an editor. I'm one who devours words like others snack on a bag of chips - one, two, fifty, a thousand, it doesn't matter because there is always room in my brain within which to take in a few more words.

Words can paint a picture in the reader's mind, they can bring tears to the eyes or a smile to the face. Put them together the right way and they can tell a story or give instruction. Even if no one said anything to you, if you picked up the Bible and just read the words, you'd find the path to the cross - it's right there tucked in the pages from beginning to end, a magnificent tapestry of words that hold such hope. It's hard to think that these rather small individual pieces of letters when put together in a variety of combinations could hold that much power.

And yet, they do. 

I've used my own words for good, carelessly let them fall out of my mouth in a moment of rash emotion, and I've thrown them out like arrows intent on wounding. The fact that I have a way with words almost makes me more dangerous, because while I've greater skill at using them to encourage and uplift, I'm also a rather handy swordsman.

"There is one whose rash words are like sword thrusts, but the tongue of the wise brings healing." Proverbs 12:18

Add to that the lightening quick speed within which we send emails, a text or a Facebook message and we have a recipe for disaster - words quickly typed, most often unedited and unleashed in such a way as they can't be taken back. Even if you apologize, you can't make the recipient erase from their mind and heart what you've written, and unless you seek out their email inbox or cell phone and hit the delete button, they've got a hard copy of what you said. 

Did you really mean it? 

I once read the following thought:

"Imagine a world where the words you speak appear on your skin. Would you be more careful with what you say?"

That makes me stop and think, look back at things I've said or typed in my moments of anger and frustration. I confess I would have a few inches of skin that I'd squirm in discomfort until they were covered up from other's eyes.

Recently I had a few words that were put into writing about me. It wasn't the nastiest thing anyone could have said, but it did hit me in one of the places where I try and serve God. They came without warning on a weekday afternoon and I've carried them in my mind for a few weeks now, thinking back on what was said and who said them.

It's been a mixture of feelings - I've prayed for the writer because it's obvious they are upset and that kind of emotional turmoil can lead to seeds of bitterness that take root and that's such a miserable place to be. I've tried to think back as to when someone has approached me to try and share how they were upset with the way I was serving and couldn't find anything. I've questioned that maybe there was some truth to what they've said and that's left me feeling small and hurt and wanting to find a quiet corner to sit in all by myself. And when given the chance to serve in that very ministry, I just wanted to bow out, feeling the weight of those criticizing words looming over me. 

Do you think the writer realized that was the impact they would have when they wrote that letter? Was that what they intended? I'd like to think that some part of them was truly concerned and seeking change for the better, but I can't see where that has happened. My bruised heart doesn't feel restored or encouraged or directed in a way that's better, it just feels attacked. How is there any good in that? 

So instead, I've been a little quiet with my words. If anything positive has come of what was said, then may it be that I think twice about anything I choose to write or say. May I remember what I've felt these past few weeks, and choose to not be the deliverer of such a blow to those around me. 

"Let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for building up, as fits the occasion, that it may give grace to those who hear."   Ephesians 4:29

The Happiness You See, The Journey You Don't

Friday evening, I crowded into a small gymnasium full of people to watch my first child cross the graduation stage to receive his high school diploma. I made sure to take plenty of pictures, like this:

Here's the thing about moments like these, there's what you see and what you don't.

For instance, this is a picture of a handsome young man who was forced to put his gown on early and take pictures with his momma who hugged him a little extra that morning before he got into the car and drove away for his last day of school. This is an 18-year old who scored a 24 on his ACT right out of the box, first time with zero prep who is wearing a college and career ready tassel as part of his gown. This is a kid who now flashes a smile of straight white teeth in most pictures, after having worn braces for the past two years and finally getting them off last month. This is a self-taught musician who can play guitar, ukulele, a little piano, trombone and tuba. By the end of June, this graduate will have whipped out his Passport and boarded a plane for Scotland where he'll be on a short term mission trip, working at a soccer camp. This is a son, a brother, a friend, a student, an employee, and a daddy.

Maybe you didn't guess every bit of all I listed, but I'm fairly certain you could have figured out some of the facts.

Now for the part you don't see.

You don't see that during his freshman year, this guy would find out he was going to be a dad. You weren't there the day he watched his little girl take her very first breath before sitting in a chair and melting into a puddle of tears just 3 days after his16th birthday. That same young dad would go on to quit all extra activities his junior year and would start working 4 or 5 days a week in order to pay child support and buy clothes and a high chair and car seats and toys and all those other things kids need. He'd save up enough money to pay for half of his first car, start chipping in on his car insurance, and he has almost never asked for gas money. While his peers may have gone to basketball games and the movies, he had visitation every other weekend and would spent his time coloring alongside the littlest princess.

Now, don't get me wrong, we've had our fair shares of highs and lows. I've got numerous pages of my journal dedicated to prayers that we would get through those days. We just needed to survive. Parenting a child who is also learning how to be a parent is not easy. He's had a moment or two when he's wanted to call it a day and throw in the towel, and I had to remind him that he was still under 18, living in our home and not allowed to quit. We've pushed and pulled at each other and I have had fears that we were going to break apart into a thousand pieces. I thought I would lose my mind, and he probably had a few choice thoughts about our parenting as well.

But looking back, there were the friends who listened to me when I needed them, the people who sent our child cards or letters with encouraging words, the ones that took the time to look him in the eye and ask him about his baby and ask to see pictures, the ones that gave him chances to learn and to work, the church that opened their arms and took both him and his sweet baby girl in. They were so valuable and so precious to our family, and we certainly wouldn't have made it through without them.

It's moments like these, it's pictures like these that make me stop and remember this path he's taken, the rough road he walked when he wasn't much more than a child himself, and in that moment of reflection I am fiercely proud of him. I'm the momma who made the ugly face when he moved his tassel over and couldn't stop the tears that ran down my cheeks. The one who has been over the moon excited and celebrated every moment of this graduation week. He has carried so much responsibility and faced so many challenges for one so young, and as his sweet little girl said as I held her in my lap Friday night, "Yeah Daddy!! He did it!!"

Enemy Alert

In the past two months, I've drafted four divorce petitions, two of which were just this week. Three of those marriages began in 2012, and the most recent one in 2006. I've also sat in on a discussion of how things will be divided in a divorce of a couple who have shared over 20 years together. I don't know which saddens me more, the couples who found it impossible to make it to a double digit anniversary or the one that will end after having spent the past two decades together.

Thinking on how all five families will now go about taking their lives apart and separating them into two different households reminded me of my most recent trip to Africa. Africa? I know, it seems odd, but stick with me here.

On the last day in Kenya before I boarded my plane headed back to the states, I got to take in the wonders of the Nairobi National Park. As the sun started it's ascent into the sky, our little group rode across the terrain in a safari van, gazing on zebras, giraffes, gazelles and three, yes three, lion sightings.

Now you can search for lion videos on YouTube or watch a National Geographic special on these big cats, but nothing compares to having a front row seat to these creatures unrestrained by any boundaries with only the metal siding on your vehicle separating you from them. It's awesome.

Even better was when one female decided to go in search of breakfast. I may have held my breath a little as I watched her crouch down into position, muscles gathering up energy, heart rate starting to pound before she took off after her prey. Let me repeat myself, it's awesome.

In 1 Peter 5:8, we see the very same picture painted of Satan:

"Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary, the devil, prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour."

Do not gloss over these words we were given to describe the very real and dangerous enemy that you and I share. Satan is like the lion I saw that morning. She wasn't looking to go for a leisurely jog through the grass, she wasn't there to run alongside a zebra or two in amicable companionship. No, she was there to kill. She took her time to lock in on her target and then set off at full force to tear into flesh, to lock jaws into muscles and to take down her prey. She wasn't messing around, and neither is the devil.

So, when you have those little cracks in your marriage, Satan sees it as an opportunity to slide in and stretch out making those cracks into gaping tears. He gleefully claps his hands while watching husband and wife wage war against one another over who gets the house or the retirement funds, and he is completely satisfied when a covenant marriage is reduced to shuttling children back and forth between two places in accordance with a court-ordered schedule. I'd even go so far to guess that he is licking his chops and waiting for the right moment when children of divorce start to experience trouble, because maybe the job will be easier convincing a second generation that there is no way they can succeed where their parents have failed. Better to throw in the towel and call it a loss.

This is reality. This is what I witness every day. This is discouraging, and sad, and heart-breaking.

Pray, people. 

Get on your hands and knees and pray for your marriage. Pray for your friend's marriage. Pray for your family and your pastors' marriages. We are desperately in need of some intervention in the breakdown of families.

Be a source of encouragement and wisdom to your friends who are married. Do not engage in spouse bashing, but be a cheerleader for working through the tough times and focusing on the love that brought these two people together. You couples who have a few years under your belt, look for those younger couples who need mentors. Don't be fake and make it out like everything is fabulous 100% of the time, but be transparent and honest about how you've fallen, or the moments when you had to lean solely on each other and God till the days got better. Husbands, love on your wives and smother her with sweet words. Wives, wrap you arms around that man and let him know just how much you appreciate all he does. Let's be champions of double digit anniversaries that make peoples' jaws drop and say, "Wow, that's a really long time to be together. Amazing"

Let's not find satisfaction in shaking our heads in agreement about how things are falling apart, but let's be doers of the things that will help us stick together.

Living In This Moment

Thanks to the ease of a laptop, I'm writing this post from my warm and cozy bed, buried under not one or two, but four blankets. The dark night sits still and quiet outside my window, the ground submerged under a foot thick covering of white, and the temperature has taken a dip below the zero mark. It is both breathtaking to the eye to see such pristine beauty and cruel to any exposed inch of skin that tries to stand outside for more than a few moments. Winter has taken firm hold of my Kentucky home.

My week began with an unexpected holiday from my office, two days our doors remained closed due to this recent change in weather. My children have traded an entire week of school days for card games, all means of electronic device entertainment, breakfasts at ten and bedtime at eleven. They've sprinted out into the snowy back yard more than once to build forts and make snowballs, and in return, my kitchen floor is littered with layers of wet clothing, hats, scarves and gloves from their treks outdoors. Cabin fever has started to stir within them, so much so that a trip to the grocery store was a welcome outing. Anything to release them from the same set of walls they've been staring at for days.

I've scrolled through my Facebook feed and seen pictures of snow men, snow angels, and kind hearted neighbors that have shoveled driveways so my friends could get out to the road. Updates were quick to spread when the local school systems finally gave in and admitted defeat on Wednesday, calling off classes for the rest of the week.

It's not surprising when the temperature drops this low and your wheels are spinning as your trying to leave your house in the morning for work that people start wishing for Spring. Just as it comes as no surprise that when the temperature begins to rise towards triple digits and staying indoors to avoid a heat stroke is your only option, people will begin to wish for Fall. I get it, really, I do.

But, part of me reads through these words of wistful thinking, of this living in what is next on the calendar and just wants to press a halt button. Can't I just breathe in the slower pace that winter brings before I leap to the next season? Can't I enjoy thick, hearty stews for dinner with crusty bread, earthenware mugs of hot coffee snuggled under a blanket on my couch, college basketball and warm sweaters before we skip off to Easter? I need this fast paced world, with its telescope lens always locked on the horizon, to just let me breathe.

Please stop, world. Please, just live now. Right now. This moment.

God gave you this day. And, not just so you could look out your window and ponder just how miserable the weather is, or how much you long for what tomorrow holds. Today is not a day for waiting for the next holiday, the next vacation, the next item on the to do list. Today is a day for living - to see and to hear and to taste and to feel and to love and a million other unexpected blessings He has planned that you weren't even aware of when you opened your eyes. Not tomorrow's gifts, but today's.

While there may be moments today that we find ourselves longing for tomorrow, take a minute to embrace this very real truth:

"This is the day that the LORD has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it." Psalm 118:24