Strange Whom He Chooses to Use

This morning was a rough time.  Ellie and I really struggle in the morning--she's too much like me for me to handle in a mature manner, and she's too much like her dad to be a morning person.  That combination leads to most mornings beginning with a fight and tears from at least one of us.  This morning it ended up being both of us.

As I cried my way through most of my morning shower--alternating between complaining to God and pleading with Him--it dawned on me (again) how hard it is to be a parent.  Many days I'm not even positive that I enjoy parenting, and most days I'm confident that I don't have what it takes.  I think most mornings I allow the arguing and the nagging and the crying and yelling (all of which come from both of us most days) to settle into my brain with a resounding, "Beka, you are a shitty mom."  Forgive the language, but that's where I settle.  Today was one of those days.  I prayed that God would help me love my job of mothering His precious girls and that He would help me figure out how to be good at it.

After searching for shoes, getting stuck combs out of hair, and reminding everyone that there isn't really time to chat while we're brushing our teeth, we left the house a bit late.  The rain made it clear we wouldn't arrive to school on time (every tardy Ellie gets is a reflection on my ineptitude as a mother, you know), so  I was still grumbling in my spirit.  Then, traffic slowed to a standstill on the highway, and my battery light popped on.  No. Time. For. This.  I pulled off at the next exit, drove around for a couple of minutes, and the light went off.  Deciding not to drive on the highway in monsoon conditions, I opted to take the back roads.  As we stopped at our first traffic light, the battery light popped on again.  I said a quick prayer that we'd make it to both of the girls' schools before the van stalled completely and continued on with our morning routine.

After we dropped Meg off, Addie and I headed to AutoZone to get the battery tested and replaced.  I was still feeling like a royal failure at everything and felt on the verge of tears.  We've discussed Addie's obsessive question-asking in the past, so it should surprise no one that she had to touch every item in the display under the cash register and ask--several times--what each item was.  I can't count the number of deep breaths I took as I patiently attempted to answer each question with both the identification and an example of use in our lives (only because she asked for it, mind you--my high school Geometry teacher could have used my question-answering skills!). 

As I handed my debit card to Tony, the kind AutoZone man, he said, "You're a great mom, by the way."

Me?  A great mom?  How did you know I needed to hear that?  He went on to explain that most parents just tell their kids they don't need to know the answer and swat their hands away.  So there was his answer.  The world's answer.  But I know that he could just as easily have said, "Huh.  Most parents don't answer their kids' questions in here.  Good work, Mom."  Instead, he used the exact words I needed to hear: "You're a great mom, by the way."

Thank you, Tony.  God used you to answer the cry of my heart. 

And thank you, God.  For both the message through Tony and for the reminder that I, too, could be the person You use to answer the cry of a mother's--or a father's or a teenager's or a stressed-out worker's--heart around me.

Book Eight

In, just under the wire to keep me on track for two books a month!  Whew!

The Pawn
Steven James

My DearWriter/PublisherFriend gave me this book.  She told me it was good but that mine might be better and told me to get writing.  All I can say is that if mine is half as good, I'll be pleased, and that mine won't be nearly this complex!  Wow.

The Pawn was published in 2008, so I'm a bit late to the game. I'm actually grateful for that, because now I don't have to wait for the next book in the Patrick Bowers series. This is the first in a proposed 8-part series from "The Patrick Bowers Files." Bowers is an environmental criminologist--he uses geography and environment to help build a profile of the killer he is pursuing. In The Pawn, we are introduced to Bowers and his unique line of work, and James weaves his back story in to a fast-paced political and psychological thriller.


As is an indicator of good story telling, I truly found myself coming to care for the main characters and be repulsed by the psychopaths. Bowers, his step daughter, and his partners are well written. The villains (yes, there are many in this book) are, too. And, even when James doesn't include it, the reader can sense a depth to the characters that will make them fun to get acquainted with in future stories from the files. Perhaps the most exciting part for me was believing I had identified the killer then believing I was wrong only to believe I was right again before--oh, I don't want to give it away. Just know it's worth the ride.

Revell, a division of Baker Publishing Group, publishes The Patrick Bowers Files, as well as Steven James's other books. Typically I shy away from Christian fiction, because I find it lacking in depth, lacking in thrill, or preachy. I'm pleased to say The Pawn is none of those things. Bowers wrestles with God in a way that feels authentic, and the family drama isn't neatly wrapped at the end of the book. Just like real life.

A Lesson from my Dad

Because The Eighteenth Sabbath reminded me of my dad and one of the most important lessons a girl could ever learn, here is that lesson for all of you, too. 

In July 1989, my dad took a call at 36th Street CRC in Wyoming, MI.  It meant a family move to Grand Rapids from South Dakota.  It also meant I would start 7th grade in a new town, at a new school, with no one that I had ever met before.  My sister was in high school, so she had to go to school to register on a Monday.  I wouldn't start until Tuesday, so my dad took me to Meijer on Clyde Park to pick up a few things for school. 

Riding in the car with my dad has always meant listening to music, and it's usually meant listening to it loudly.  That's what we were doing that day.  It must have been 99.3 (WJQK), because WCSG (91.3) usually played sleepy music in the late '80s and early '90s, and WAYFM didn't exist yet.  We had just pulled into the parking lot, when a song by DeGarmo & Key came on.  My dad had me sit and listen to it, and then he said, "This will get you through tomorrow and every other day, kiddo.  If God is for you, then no one else matters."

It's a hard lesson to learn and an even harder lesson to remember.  When the pressures of the world stack up, and I feel like I don't measure up, the last thing I'm thinking about is that it doesn't matter what others think, because God is for me.  It's easier to think that if I was just something more, something different, then the world would be nicer to me.  But, the truth remains: if God is for us, who could be against us?  No power on earth can take His love away.

When you rest in that, you can truly rest.  Thanks, Daddy.  It really does get me through every day.

The Eighteenth Sabbath

Water, You turned into wine
Opened the eyes of the blind
There's no one like You
None like You

Into the darkness, You shine
Out of the ashes we rise
There's no one like You
None like You

Our God is greater
Our God is stronger
God, You are higher than any other
Our God is healer
Awesome in power
Our God, our God

Into the darkness, You shine
Out of the ashes, we rise
There's no one like You
None like You

Our God is greater
Our God is stronger
God, You are higher than any other
Our God is healer
Awesome in power
Our God, our God

Our God is greater
Our God is stronger
God, You are higher than any other
Our God is healer
Awesome in power
Our God, our God

And if our God is for us
Then who could ever stop us
And if our God is with us
Then what could stand against

And if our God is for us
Then who could ever stop us
And if our God is with us
Then what could stand against
Then what could stand against

Our God is greater
Our God is stronger
God, You are higher than any other
Our God is healer
Awesome in power
Our God, our God

Our God is greater
Our God is stronger
God, You are higher than any other
Our God is healer
Awesome in power
Our God, our God

And if our God is for us
Then who could ever stop us
And if our God is with us
Then what could stand against

And if our God is for us
Then who could ever stop us
And if our God is with us
Then what could stand against
What could stand against
What could stand against

"Our God," by Chris Tomlin, Matt Redman, Jesse Reeves, Jonas Myrin

Random Thoughts from the Sabbath

I wanted to write something about my day yesterday, but there are several "somethings" in my mind.  At this point they don't seem too connected, so we'll call it random for now and see where we end up.

Thought #1
Dr. Branson Parler, Kuyper College professor and member at Fourth Reformed, preached about freedom yesterday.  It was an ironic message topic since Beau and I were "free" from our kids for the weekend and were enjoying that the noisy kids in the service weren't ours for a change.  As Branson preached on Galatians 5:13-6:2, he talked about how the world so often views freedom as just that--freedom from something.  The reality is that God wants to free us for something.  He frees us for Himself and He frees us for others. 

Yes, God does free us from sin, but it is so that we are free for living the lives that God created us to live.  To reclaim some part of that peace and joy and communion with Him and others.  One of the things Branson pointed out is that when you chop off your finger (because we all do that, right?), you haven't actually freed it from anything.  You have only condemned it to death.  The only way a finger can actually be a finger and do finger things is when it is attached to the body.  The same is true for us.  The only way that we can be ourselves, who we have been created to be and living out the gifts God has uniquely given to us, is when we are connected to the body.

Thought #2
Branson also quoted one of the most beautiful and gut-punching verses in the Bible.  It deserves its own thought, because it's just that good.  Galatians 5:6 "The only thing that counts is faith expressing itself through love."

Thought #3
I have been teaching 7th-12th grade Christian Ed at church this year.  We're covering the Heidelberg Catechism, with varying degrees of success (as defined by the leaders' manual, I suppose), enjoyment (mine and that of my 7th-12th graders), and commitment (again, mine and theirs--I won't lie about that).  It's such lovely and weighty subject matter, and unfortunately I don't think our curriculum really speaks to my students or leaves them with much to hold onto.

As I reviewed this week's lesson, I just didn't feel good about what was in my manual.  It just felt cheesy and boring.  So I decided that since my "full" group would be there (we range from 2-10 on any given week) and we had six Q&As to get through, we would break into pairs and rewrite them.  I challenged the students to read the verses that went with the answers and then rewrite the answers in a more personal way.  We did Q&A 46 together.  Then I gave each pair Q&A 47-50.  I took Q&A 51 on my own, because we had only eight students.  I knew that what they could come up with could be huge, and I hoped they knew that too.  I was asking them to read scripture, think critically about how it applied to this question and to their lives, and then share it with everyone else.

They amazed me.

They shouldn't have, because I knew they could do it.  But they did.  And I'm so proud of what they shared.  I wish I'd recorded it.

Thought #4
As I said, I took Q&A 51.  We're nearly finished with the Apostles Creed portion of the Catechism, and these six Q&As are all about the ascended Christ sitting at the right hand of God.  The questions range from how is that possible to what it might mean for us.  I didn't mean to be so convicted by the one I "randomly" received from God.  As restated by me:

Q. How does this glory of Christ our head benefit us?
A. Christ has now been restored to full communion with God and the Holy Spirit, pouring the Holy Spirit's gifts out on us.  I, personally, have the gifts--and the personality--I have directly from the Spirit in order that I might use them to build up the body. 

Also, by sitting at the right hand of God, Christ has the full army of God ready and willing to do all that He commands.  Because He is with the father who created me and loves me, He will let nothing destroy me.

I've been thinking a lot lately about how God has gifted me and the personality that He has given me.  I have a passion to strengthen others--to build up the weak with encouragement and to challenge the strong with truth.  Could it possibly be that God has given that passion and the gifts to live out that passion?

Thought #5
This thought came today, while I was writing out my "random" thoughts.  I chuckle almost every time I use the word "random," because I don't believe for one second that God is a God of random happenstance.  I believe that God is a God of providential circumstance.  And because I've seen it often enough to know it's true, I sort of knew He would tie my random thoughts together as I wrote--at least as they apply to me. 

• The only way that we can be ourselves, who we have been created to be and living out the gifts God has uniquely given to us, is when we are connected to the body.
• "The only thing that counts is faith expressing itself through love."
• I knew that what they could come up with could be huge, and I hoped they knew that too. I was asking them to read scripture, think critically about how it applied to this question and to their lives, and then share it with everyone else.
• I, personally, have the gifts--and the personality--I have directly from the Spirit in order that I might use them to build up the body.

My connection to the Body of Christ is essential, both in His figurative body and in the literal body of believers.  I will be worthless without that Body, because I have been uniquely gifted as Rebekah Marie (Bierenga) McDowell to do Beka things.  If I cut myself off, then I cut myself off to death.  And even more than that, if I cut myself off or refuse to do the Beka things that God created me to do, then I deprive the Body of what it needs to live out God's call for it.

This ended up longer than I thought it would be, so thanks for hanging with me on my rabbit trail.  I'm starting to wonder if any of it tied together for anyone but me.  Oh, well.  We always reach a conclusion; it just doesn't always resemble anything close to where we started or where we thought we'd end.  And it generally leads us to the beginning of another journey that we never expected but always sort of hoped was waiting for us.  That's where I'm standing today.  And, as my DearWriterFriend (DearPublisherFriend?) likes to say, "We are living the epilogue."  Thanks for sitting in on this page of mine.

The Seventeenth Sabbath

In Christ alone my hope is found,
He is my light, my strength, my song;
this Cornerstone, this solid Ground,
firm through the fiercest drought and storm.
What heights of love, what depths of peace,
when fears are stilled, when strivings cease!
My Comforter, my All in All,
here in the love of Christ I stand.

In Christ alone! who took on flesh
Fulness of God in helpless babe!
This gift of love and righteousness
Scorned by the ones he came to save:
Till on that cross as Jesus died,
The wrath of God was satisfied -
For every sin on Him was laid;
Here in the death of Christ I live.

There in the ground His body lay
Light of the world by darkness slain:
Then bursting forth in glorious Day
Up from the grave he rose again!
And as He stands in victory
Sin's curse has lost its grip on me,
For I am His and He is mine -
Bought with the precious blood of Christ.

No guilt in life, no fear in death,
This is the power of Christ in me;
From life's first cry to final breath.
Jesus commands my destiny.
No power of hell, no scheme of man,
Can ever pluck me from His hand;
Till He returns or calls me home,
Here in the power of Christ I'll stand.

 
"In Christ Alone," Stuart Townend and Keith Getty

Overheard at the Ballpark

Today my husband and I went with some dear friends of ours, Matt and Jillian, to a Detroit Tigers game.  Our journey there began in early March when Matt and I were chatting via Facebook message about Beyond Belief: Finding the Strength to Come Back, Josh Hamilton's autobiography.  Matt, Jillian, and I had recently read the book, and Matt and I were discussing how fun it would be to watch Josh and the Texas Rangers play when they made it to Detroit.  It happened to be this weekend, and today worked perfectly for all of us. 

Last night, my husband and I sent our kids off to Grandma and Grandpa's house, enjoyed dinner out at Licari's Sicilian Pizza Kitchen, slept in a bit this morning, and then climbed into Jillian's Honda Pilot for the trip to the Big D.  It was cloudy.  It was windy.  It was disappointing, because a rainout Friday night pushed the pitching off by a game, and we didn't get to see Justin Verlander pitch.  It was COLD.  And the first inning was terrible.  Rick Porcello let 8 runs cross the plate, and only one of them was a home run (go, Josh!).  The Rangers made it all the way through their batting order 1 1/2 times.  In the 1st inning.  The Tigers wouldn't get that far until the 5th.  Things settled in, but it was still cold and ugly.  And we were in the bleachers, and there were rowdy people all around us, and there were a lot of funny things to overhear.

So, here it is.  As overheard in the car and at a cold and windy blowout game at Comerica Park:

*NOTE: Names have NOT been changed to protect the guilty, and context is provided only when it serves my purposes.

"Why can't Verlander pitch both games?"  Random lady in line at the Mexican place

"I don't know anything about baseball.  I just know that Verlander is my next husband."  Same random lady after Jillian explained that Justin's arm would fall off if he pitched two games

"The case of Natty Ice I drank before coming here doesn't really help the situation any."  Drunk girl sitting behind us

"I hate these nail-biter games.  They make me so nervous!"  Beka's dad, in a text message during the 1st inning, when the score reached 8-0

"Oh, is there a game going on?  I thought it was Rangers batting practice."  Beka's response

"Lady, I'm going to rip your visor off and take your bubbles."  Jillian

"That's not your real hair." Matt, as muttered under his breath and subsequently overheard by the woman with the fake hair sitting several rows ahead of us.  She then lifted her visor off to demonstrate.

"Stop it.  This isn't a wedding."  Jillian

"I've never been afraid to say how I feel."  Jillian

"That's why you scared me."  Matt

"Yes.  That's why I was afraid of you."  Beka, at the exact moment Matt was responding

"Now she's dancing.  That's why I don't like women."  Beka

"I used to get the two cheeseburgers meal supersized.  When I was ten years old."  Matt

"I can't stand Ben Roethlisberger as a person."  Beka

"Well, I'm not really talking to him much personally, so I don't mind all that."  Matt

Less than two hours later:

"I can't stand Ty Cobb.  He was a terrible person."  Matt

"I'm not too excited about Trader Joe's.  Isn't it just some big flea market?"  Matt

"Do you realize that you never see baby pigeons?  You only see adult pigeons."

"...There is no such thing as baby pigeons."  Random drunk girls behind us, arriving at this conclusion after a five-minute conversation consisting of comments exactly like the first line

"I'm going to start calling you guys camels and bring you a vat of water."  Red Robin waitress to Beau

"Sister, you just keep driving your handicapped car!" Jillian

"That's so racist!"  Matt, to Jillian

"I didn't say anything!"  Jillian, pretending there was a defense for her actions

"I knew what you were thinking!"  Matt

"I made a White Power shirt."  Jillian

"Well, we had a Black Power one, too, so we were equal opportunity."  Matt

"You were right two times today, Beau."  Beka

"No.  I was right three.  That time and two others."  Beau

"You cheated!"  Beka, Matt, and Jillian

"Not every time."  Beau

"Oh, s---."  70+-year-old woman, after realizing she and her husband were on the kiss cam

"Is there a rest area coming up?  I need to stop.  I drank a lot of water."  Beau

"Where's the hump where you store your water, Camel?"  Matt

We had a great time!  Can't wait until our next double date with the crazy Gajtkas.

Things I Think I Think #49-61

A "mothering" edition, because it is just so appropriate today . . . even though it would be better suited in May.

49. I don't actually need Ellie to tell me that she hates to clean.  I remember that from the last time.

50. There comes a point where the whining needs to stop.  Even if it's by me putting my fingers in my ears and shouting "La-la-la-la" in my head.

51. My kids make me laugh.  Every day.  And it catches me off guard almost every time, because I can't figure out how they are so funny.

52. My kids also make me cry.  Almost as often.

53. I check on my sleeping girls every night when I go to bed, and I kiss my finger and put it on their noses.  I've done the same thing nearly every night of their lives.

54. One of these nights I'm going to crawl in bed with Meg and sleep there until morning.  Mostly because I can't fit in Addie's crib, and I'm concerned about climbing up onto Ellie's top bunk.

55. I'm pretty sure that I love one of my girls more than the others . . . and the one changes by the minute.

56. I hope that one of my girls sings, one of my girls plays soccer, one of my girls writes, and one of my girls goes to the University of Notre Dame.  They can all be the same one.

57. It makes me tear up every time someone tells me my kids are kind and good friends to other children.

58. I really hope that my girls are good friends to each other as they grow up as well and that the four of us enjoy spending time together when they are grown.

59. The hardest thing about being a mom is having your heart walk around outside of your body in the form of a little person.  The second hardest thing is patiently saying something for the hundredth time.

60. When I look at my girls I see the negative things they have inherited from me and none of the positive things.

61. I would happily give up all of my dreams for my kids as long as they serve God and follow Him with all of their hearts.

The Sixteenth Sabbath

Thou lovely source of true delight
Whom I unseen adore
Unveil Thy beauties to my sight
That I might love Thee more
Oh, that I might love Thee more

Thy glory o'er creation shines
But in Thy sacred Word
I read in fairer brighter lines
My bleeding, dying Lord
See my bleeding, dying Lord

'Tis here, whene'er my comforts droop
And sin and sorrow rise
Thy love with cheering beams of hope
My fainting heart supplies
Oh, my fainting heart's supplied

But ah!  Too soon the pleasing scene
Is clouded o'er with pain
My gloomy fears rise dark between
And I again complain
Oh, and I again complain

Jesus, my Lord, my life, my light
Oh come with blissful ray
Break radiant through the shades of night
And chase my fears away
Won't You chase my fears away

Then shall my soul with rapture trace
The wonders of Thy love
But the full glories of Thy face
Are only known above
They are only known above

Thou lovely source of true delight
Whom I unseen adore
Unveil Thy beauties to my sight
That I might love Thee more
Oh, that I might love Thee more

"Thou Lovely Source of True Delight," Anne Steele

Things We Know Nothing About

This is yesterday's blog post, take two.  Along with knowing nothing about the beautiful future and plans God has for us, sometimes we are forced to acknowledge that we know nothing about the days God has numbered for us or the countless ways He protects us every one of them.  Today is one of those days.

Addie is madly in love with horses.  She especially likes to see the "horsies in the sand" at a riding school we discovered on Michigan in between Grand River Drive and Crahen.  She asks to see them every day after we drop Ellie off at school and again after we pick her up.  Most days I comply, because I like the drive up the hill on Michigan, and, let's be honest, there's just something about horses.  Today I told her we had to hurry home from picking Ellie up so we could wrap Beau's birthday presents and the girls could make cards for him.

So there we were, on the highway.  We took the Fulton entrance onto I-96, like we normally do.  I was grumpy, because the cars in front of me were not accelerating on the entrance ramp.  They were holding us back.  We managed to get on the highway (at about 55 MPH), and I merged into traffic, quickly getting my speed up to 70 MPH. 

Just west of the East Beltline overpass, I noticed something flying through the air a few car lengths ahead of us.  It looked like a rod or something, but my brain struggled to process what I was seeing.  All I could think was there was nowhere for me to go but forward.  At 70 MPH it doesn't take long to traverse a few hundred yards, so it didn't take long before it became clear that there was going to be an impact between my van full of precious girls and this object.  I had enough time to slow down and pray that it wouldn't come through the windshield just as it seemed to land on the road in front of us.  With no other option, because I knew swerving would be the worst thing I could do at that speed, I drove over it.  The thunk it made startled the girls and was quickly erased by the ding of my check engine light.

Deciding I should head straight to the car shop--it was 4:00 on a Friday, after all--I drove to our normal car repair store where they were able to get our car right in to assess the damage.  After about an hour, we learned that the damage was close to $2,000.  I'll end up getting a new bumper, air conditioning compressor, ambient air sensor, and maybe even a new radiator!  Exciting times.  We have insurance to pay for the damage after we pay our deductible.  The money for that is in the bank, and it may even end up being only a comprehensive claim, which will save us $800.  Jehovah Jireh.  God provides.

But, as I reflect on it, none of that is the point.

The point is that there are things we know nothing about.  If I had it to do over, obviously we would go see the horsies in the sand today.  But I didn't know anything about what was on the highway, so I made the choice based on the 20 minutes it would save us to avoid that extra stop.  I also didn't know anything about the rod of metal flipping through the air on the highway.  If I had, maybe I'd have been grateful that the car in front of us didn't accelerate fast enough and held us back.  Maybe if it hadn't, we would have been a bit further down the highway where our windshield would have met a metal rod at 70 MPH.

How many times in my day, in my week, am I in the middle of things I know nothing about?  How often has God had me be just far enough to the right or just fast enough or just late enough that I missed a disaster?  When my dad was in Iraq, there was story after story about him or others he worked with being in just the right place or leaving where they were just in time or "randomly" not being where they always were at that time--those stories meant the difference between their lives and their deaths.

It's no different for any of us.  So thank you, God, for having me and my precious daughters in the palm of your hand.  Thank you for having Beau there, too.  And for having such care for all of us that nothing can happen to us without it first passing through Your hands.

What is your only comfort in life and in death?

That I am not my own, but I belong, in body and in soul, in life and in death, to my faithful savior Jesus Christ.

He has fully paid for all my sins with his precious blood, and has set me free from the tyranny of the devil.  He also watches over me in such a way that not a hair can fall from my head without the will of my Father in heaven: in fact, all things must work together for my salvation.

Because I belong to him, Christ, by his Holy Spirit, assures me of eternal life and makes me wholeheartedly willing and ready from now on to live for him.

Heidelberg Catechism, Q & A 1

Becoming More Than Yourself

I have recently begun to enjoy watching golf on television.  During that time, I've gotten to "know" a few of the golfers on the PGA tour and enjoy following them.  Typically my favorite golfers seem to develop a curse once I admit to liking them, and they don't do well, but then again I do like to root for the underdog.  That made it especially fun to see Bubba Watson and his pink driver win the Masters on Easter Sunday.

What made it the most fun, perhaps, isn't the way he won or even the fact that he never had a professional golf lesson growing up.  It is summed up in this simple statement: "I never got this far in my dreams, so this isn't a dream come true."

That really got me thinking.  I have a lot of dreams.  But I can't even begin to dream where I'll really end up in my life, what is actually in store for me. 

Several weeks ago, I entered a contest to get a devotional printed in a new Moms' Devotional Bible that Zondervan is publishing.  I never expected to make it through to the final round, and I burst into tears when I got the email from them telling me that I was a finalist.  Now, there are two days left until I hear whether my devotional or the other entry is the winner.  I've gone through several emotions since learning I was a finalist, and I keep thanking God for taking it this far--and asking Him to prepare me for when if I don't win.  I don't want to be too disappointed.  And, to be honest, like Bubba Watson, I never got there in my dreams.  I never dreamed about being published in a devotional Bible.  I never really dreamed about being a Christian author.  I have dreams that involve my stories, but the truth is that I have no clue what my future really looks like. 

When I start to get cocky about my writing or about my teaching or about any work that I'm doing, there's a voice that reminds me of the reality of who I am.  I'm a child of God.  He has given me the talent that I have.  Thomas Kincaid's mother told him when he was young that his talents were God's gift to him.  She went on to say that what he did with his talents was his gift to God.  That's what I need to remember, too.  So when I live out what I think are my dreams, instead I need to just live out my love for God.

In my Bible reading this morning, I came across these words of Jesus (as recounted in The Message in Luke 14:11): "What I'm saying is, If you walk around with your nose in the air, you're going to end up flat on your face.  But if you're content to be simply yourself, you will become more than yourself."

I need to cut that out and hang in on my music stand when I sing on the worship team on Sunday morning, on the mirror in my bathroom, on my computer, on my dashboard . . . I need to write it on my heart and engrave it on my hand.  Whether being simply myself is using a pink driver in my golf game or writing from my heart or singing loudly, that's who I need to be.  Because that's who God made me.  And, when I give it to Him--do it for Him--it's more than enough.  And He will make me more than myself.

Vacationing From Excuses

Oh, brother.  I took spring break off of work so I could play with my kids and begin the (not so) fun task of potty training my youngest.  Along with my vacation from work, I apparently took a vacation from all of the self discipline I've been working to cultivate.  I ate what I wanted, went to bed when I wanted, slept in almost every day, worked out not at all, fell behind in my Bible reading, and barely blogged.  Sounds awful to me.  Well, the relaxing and sleeping in was nice.  So was the eating out.  And somehow I lucked out and only gained 1.8 pounds, so perhaps I've learned some healthy eating-out habits.  But, still, I hate what I did.

In an attempt to get all of my excuses out of the way now and find my way back to how well I did in January, I give you every excuse I've used since February:

* I'm so tired.
* I ate well yesterday and have reached a weight lower than where I've been in almost a year.  One day won't hurt.
* But Hawaii Five-0 is on at 10:00 Monday nights--I can't wake up at 5:00 a.m. after I stay up that late.
* How many times will you get to eat from the ice cream store in March?  (For the record, I can give you three.  But they were all once-in-a-lifetime opportunities.)
* It's my vacation.  I deserve to sleep in.
* My workout buddies aren't going, so why should I?
* The kids barely slept last night.  I need one more hour.
* I'll work out tonight.
* I'll work out extra hard tomorrow.
* I'm out with friends, so I should get to eat whatever I want.
* I deserve this snack.
* Easter only comes once a year.
* If I eat it all in one day then I won't be tempted tomorrow.
* These workouts aren't working anyway.
* This headache is killing me.  I can't work out.
* Oh, I bet these sniffles are becoming a cold.  Better get extra sleep.
* I'm sore from yesterday's workout.  Better rest my muscles.
* I already screwed up--go big or go home.

What am I missing?  And what are your favorites?  Let's get them all out, start right now with the good choices, go to bed on time, wake up early, and do those bike sprints.  Instead of vacationing from good habits, I need to vacation from excuses.  Hopefully it will be even more painful to come back from that vacation!

Easter Sunday - The Fifteenth Sabbath

It's Resurrection Sunday!  And because of it, our entire lives are different.  Our pastor asked this question today: What if the resurrection is true? 

Indeed.  What if it is?  What does that mean for my life?  It means that everything is different.  It means that I have hope.  It means that the wounds of my life and my darkest days can be and are used by God to bring about my deepest joy.  The resurrection IS true, and because of it life is unspeakably worth the living.

God sent His Son--they called Him Jesus,
He came to love, heal, and forgive;
He lived and died to buy my pardon,
An empty grave is there to prove by Savior lives.

Because He lives I can face tomorrow,
Because He lives, all fear is gone.
Because I know He holds the future
And life is worth the living, just because He lives!

How sweet to hold a newborn baby
And feel the pride and joy he gives;
But greater still, the calm assurance:
This child can face uncertain days, because He lives!

Because He lives, I can face tomorrow,
Because He lives, all fear is gone.
Because I know He holds the future,
And life is worth the living, just because He lives!

And then one day, I'll cross the river.
I'll fight life's final war with pain.
And then, as death gives way to vict'ry,
I'll see the lights of glory, and I'll know He lives!

Because He lives, I can face tomorrow,
Because He lives, all fear is gone.
Because I know He holds the future,
And life is worth the living, just because He lives!

"Because He Lives," Bill and Gloria Gaither

Good Friday

Tonight our church held its traditional Tenebrae service for Good Friday.  For the first time we were joined by two neighborhood churches, and all three pastors and music teams, as well as members from each congregation, participated in the readings.  The pastor of New City Church gave a homily to start us off.  Something he said really struck me.  I think it's especially poignant as we spend so much time now talking about injustice--both in and out of the courtroom--and whether or not justice was actually served.

[Jesus' crucifixion] was the single greatest act of injustice our world has ever committed.  And yet it was the single greatest act of justice that God has ever committed.

Amen.  And then amen again.

Seven years ago today, I spent my first Good Friday with a child growing inside of me.  There would be two more of them, but I remember that first so well.  At the time I worked for a Christian school that had "mandatory" staff devotions every morning.  That year for the Good Friday devotions, we met at St. Andrew's in downtown Grand Rapids where we participated in the Stations of the Cross. 

The day before, I had a doctor's appointment where my doctor noted that my white blood count was elevated, so she recommended that I have an early ultra sound to make sure everything was okay.  Now, I know very little about medicine or the human body, but I knew what she was thinking of.  She was concerned my white count (the fighter cells) was high because my body was trying to fight off the baby.  That, and the fact that my ultra sound couldn't be scheduled until the following Wednesday, was fresh on my mind as I proceeded through the Stations.

At Station Four, where Jesus meets His mother, I very nearly passed out.  Then I had a panic attack.  I spent the rest of the Stations in the bathroom trying to decide whether I was going to throw up, pass out, or just curl up in a little ball.  I called my mom.  And she told me something that I will likely never forget, as it has proved to be so true: now that you are a mother, Easter will never be the same again.

Pastor JT from New City Church went on in his homily tonight.  He talked more about the injustice of the justice of Jesus' trial.  He talked about Jesus hanging on the cross and how his pleading in the Garden the night before had been about more than simply not wanting the physical pain of being crucified.  He wanted the cup of being the sacrificial lamb to pass before Him, because He knew.  He knew what He would take upon Himself and He knew how ugly He would become . . . to His Father.  To the holy God who cannot be in the presence of sin.  To the holy God who cannot even stand to look upon sin.  To the holy God who abandoned His own Son because of our sin.

As a mother, I can't imagine looking at my child with that much disgust.  As a mother, I can't imagine watching my child die a horrible death for people who are gambling for his clothing.  As a mother, I can't imagine raising my children in a world where all of that hadn't happened.

It is finished.  Three simple words that summarize all of the history of the world since creation.  Three simple words that declare the culmination of all of God's plans.  Three simple words that unite us with God for eternity.  Three simple words for my marriage and for my beautiful children and for those winning their battles against cancer and for those losing their battles with life . . . three simple words that make this a good Friday indeed.

Book Seven

Swamplandia!
Karen Russell

I actually finished this book a week or so ago and just haven't had the chance (or the internet access) to post my thoughts about it.  It turns out that might actually be a good thing, as I've needed that long to process it.  A friend of mine said, in reviewing this book, "I have never read a book like this."  There is a lot of truth in that statement.  I haven't either.  So I don't really know what to say about it.

Swamplandia! is a coming-of-age story for three siblings as their family's alligator resort in the swamplands of Florida sees its last tourists.  Each family member deals with it in a different manner--one tries to save it by leaving, another tries to escape it, another tries to save it by staying, and another inexplicably disappears.  Even more than all of their efforts to save Swamplandia!, this is a story of a family trying to save a mother who dies in the first pages of the book.  In so many ways, Swamplandia! the resort is built upon this woman, this mother, this alligator wrestler, and it didn't stand a chance without her.  In just as many ways, Swamplandia! the novel is also built upon this woman, this mother, this wife, and a family that didn't stand a chance without her.

When I say this is a novel unlike anything I've ever read, I mean that I have never witnessed, firsthand, the destruction of a family when its matriarch is stolen from it.  And I saw it, page after page, as I was unable to put down the book.  I had to know if and how this family could survive when its life had been snuffed out. 

Many reviews called this a laugh-out-loud novel.  I can't say that's true, except in the guilty laughter that comes at the absurd way humans try to recover from losing their joy.  I would more say Swamplandia! was the achingly beautiful story of a family losing all it had and fighting its way back to saving itself.

The Fourteenth Sabbath

Hosanna, loud hosanna, the little children sang;
Through pillared court and temple the lovely anthem rang.
To Jesus, who had blessed them close folded to His breast,
The children sang their praises, the simplest and the best.

From Olivet they followed mid an exultant crowd,
The victor palm branch waving, and chanting clear and loud.
The Lord of men and angels rode on in lowly state,
Nor scorned that little children should on His bidding wait.

“Hosanna in the highest!” that ancient song we sing,
For Christ is our Redeemer, the Lord of heaven our King.
O may we ever praise Him with heart and life and voice,
And in His blissful presence eternally rejoice!

"Hosanna, Loud Hosanna" - Jeanette Threlfall






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