Change of Plans

Yeah, so I had my plans all laid out this morning – go to Target and finish Christmas shopping, then to Panera to write for a couple of hours before my lunch date. I didn’t even eat breakfast because I was anticipating that pumpkin muffin and hot tea that has become my Tuesday morning fare as of late. Going there seems to be the best way for me to get any writing done.

And then my tire went flat.

I’m thankful that it wasn’t flat (or at least I didn’t notice it being flat) before school, so that Big Brother (much to his dismay) didn’t have to miss anything. No, it made it all the way to Little Man’s preschool, presenting itself in all its pancake-ness to me when I left the building thinking I was finally free to live life on my terms for a while.

So now, instead of eating a muffin and sipping on a hot cuppa to the delightful sounds of classical music and friendly chatter, I’m stuck in a waiting room with half a computer battery and no food, surrounded by the acrid stench of rubber and listening to Handy Manny playing on the TV despite the fact that the only two year old in the room is the only one not even watching. But I’m not bitter….

Actually, I have no right to be bitter. When I sat on my couch this morning and prayed (between sleepy nods as my body tried desperately to drift back into a deep slumber), I told the Lord that He alone is King in my life, and that I wanted to live my life in submission to Him today. I guess He took me seriously, huh?

The truth is that I got up this morning and budgeted my day according to what I thought needed to happen. I pre-spent money and time that wasn’t even really mine in the first place. So what that I thought I was going to sit down and write something for His honor and His glory? If that’s not what He had in mind then who am I to argue?

I thought I was “supposed” to be browsing the aisles of Target and happily clicking away without regard to hunger or a power supply at Panera, but apparently I wasn’t. Apparently I was supposed to spend my morning sitting in a cold, smelly tire shop, waiting to learn just how many Christmas presents I would have had to put back anyway in order to afford the bill that’s coming my way (because with our van, it’s never just a tire). Why? Was that it? The money? Or am I being kept from some horrible, unforeseen accident or an encounter with someone I wasn’t supposed to talk to? On the other hand could I be here to encounter these people for some reason?

Who knows. And who should know, anyway? When God changes our circumstances, it’s because He has a good reason. If He sees fit to share that reason with us, then we should feel blessed. If not, then we should just be thankful that He is the Great I AM, and that He always knows what’s best.

I’m clinging to that thought today, and trying to be thankful for cold waiting rooms and smelly tires. There’s a plan, and it’s much bigger than mine was to go shopping and eat muffins. I just hope I can find it in me to be thankful if that plan eventually involves a gigantic bill….

Oh Father, I love that you’re bigger than me and my little faith!

***Update: Just so you know, it definitely wasn’t just a tire. Apparently that was $645 we didn’t need for anything else! I actually am thankful that we were able to pay it, and that I knew that bill was coming. Remember “The Rule”? Yeah, someone just gave us some cash for Christmas the other day, so I knew something like this would happen. When the guy told me how much the bill was, I just laughed. He apologized for the bad news, but I told him it was ok because I had honestly expected it! I’m just wondering why “The Rule” was a few hundred dollars over what we were given this time…does that mean there’s more cash in our future to fill in the hole? We shall see, we shall see.

Dieting? Well, It's Elementary, Really.

Wow – have I got a diet plan for you. Not that you need to be on a diet…. I’m just saying, this is an incredibly affective way to lose weight. Best thing is – it’s cheap and you don’t have to cook a thing. Are you ready for this?

I call it the Elementary Diet (oh boy, I hope that’s not trademarked somewhere….I can’t afford a lawyer….). This is how it works. Step one is to plan a day to attend lunch with your Kindergartener. Don’t have one in Kindergarten? That’s ok. Call your closest elementary school and tell them you want to volunteer to let the Kindergarten classroom assistant take a lunch off. Trust me – they won’t turn you down.

Next, show up at the school and find your lunch partner. Obviously this would be your own kid if you are a K-grade room parent, but if it’s not, then look for the one kid whose parents actually needed that memo sent home in the first nine weeks about the need for children to take a bath every day (yes, by the way, that memo was real – I still have it). Don’t worry, you’ll know how to spot him – he looks a little like Pigpen from the Peanuts. By the way, you will notice that lunch starts at 10:30, so you won’t be needing breakfast that morning. See? It’s already working and you haven’t even done anything yet!

Now saddle up in line behind your little one (or Pigpen), and grab a nice melamine tray full of gelatinous meat (if you’re lucky they’ll throw in some gravy), heat-lamped turnip greens and “California blend” veggies (seriously, do people in California even eat this stuff? I don’t think so). Oh, and don’t forget to grab a roll and a box of slightly chilled milk on the way out. Now, simply sit back and let the magic work itself.

You will find, ironically, that the actual food you have loaded onto your tray doesn’t really have anything to do with the diet itself. In fact, you may even find that even though it somewhat resembles the same exact food you ate in elementary school (leading you to wonder if they just have a gigantic never-ending storehouse of 25 year old freeze-dried food somewhere), today’s mystery dishes are now much healthier. They actually contain vitamins and proteins found in real produce and meat, and (believe it or not) tend to taste somewhat good. But don’t worry, you won’t have to fret over wanting seconds you’ll never be allowed to obtain. Trust me.

It is at this point that the diet truly begins in full swing. All you have to do is keep your eyes open. Watch the girl in front of you squish reconstituted mashed potatoes through the gap in her teeth. Check out the kid who is trying desperately to be funny by unsuccessfully shoving an orange peel the size of a small football into his mouth. Observe your neighbor spreading butter all over his ham before he eats it, simply because he ran out of bread and hasn’t figured out – yet – that he could just eat the butter out of the little cup all by itself (don’t worry – come back next week. He’ll have figured it out by then).

Then take a gander at the rest of the table. The kid who puts ketchup on everything – including his pears. The one with the stuffy nose who feels the need to unstuff it right at the table. The girl whose loving mom knows that she likes lots of mayonnaise spread on the lunchmeat before it’s wrapped around the pickle. The boy who seriously thinks his chocolate milk tastes better with peas in it. Oh yeah, I said peas. And all the while, notice that any somewhat tantalizing aromas that may have risen from your own tray have been blocked by the hand you have to keep throwing next to your nose every time Pigpen leans across you to tell your neighbor something that usually involves the phrase “Hey, watch what I can do!” (don’t watch, by the way. This is a diet plan, not a prescription for permanent self-starvation).

Even if you do decide to close your eyes for a moment or two and choke down some good ‘ole county government fare, don’t worry, you haven’t blown anything yet – the diet’s not even over. The torture will only last about 20 or 30 minutes, and then it will be time to prance your tray over to the wash window. This is the real grand finale – the icing on the cake, if you will. Check out what the lunch ladies do with all that left-over, ketchup-laden, partially-chewed decadence. Oh yeah, they throw it all together into this little trough that leads to a garbage disposal, where it backs up and lingers in a pile of spooge and nastiness, all the while begging for a violent shove of the scrapper to send it into the rotating blades of horror and put it out of its misery. Mmmm, just like mom used to make, huh? Well, guess what? There goes all hopes of wanting to eat dinner, and possibly even breakfast the next morning. See how it works?

Do this just a couple of times a month and the memories alone will be enough to keep the weight off for years. I’m really looking forward to fitting into those size 6 Diamond Cut jeans I couldn’t get rid of after monster-huge baby #1 (they were really new when I got pregnant…who wants to get rid of perfectly brand new jeans? Even if they are hmmfnumabah sizes too small….ahem….). Just a few more lunch dates, and I’ll be there….I just know it….

Happy eating, friends!

Um, Thanks?

Last weekend Little Man came home from church with a treasure box he had made in Sunday School. It's a small, round wooden box with the words "I'm thankful for..." penned around the lid and a few flashy jewels glued on top by the little guy himself. Inside was a single piece of paper telling us what he is most thankful for in this life. You want to know what it said?

"...my kitty who throws up and vomits."

Yeah, buddy - me too. Meee toooo.

Happy Thanksgiving, whatever you're thankful for!


-Samantha

A Little Buried Treasure

I was looking through Proverbs 31 the other day in preparation for a talk I was giving on a retreat. I hate to admit it, but sometimes when I read that Psalm I think I’m just a glutton for punishment, because I always find myself deeply entrenched in the sin of comparison. And comparing yourself with Super Woman is hardly ever a feat that lands you anywhere near on top. So it was with great caution that I stepped into the description of the epitome of all women, and in that spirit I found a little treasure – a new mark of character to strive for that I don’t think is too far out of my reach for once.

It was in the middle of verse 28 that I found this tiny gem, sandwiched between the parts of Wonder Woman’s resume that tell of her never eating the bread of idleness and pretty much surpassing every other female in existence in her perfection (ok, are you catching a hint of bitterness and jealousy? I’m telling you, this may be the one Psalm that actually causes me to sin…). There, in those tiny words “Her children arise and call her blessed” I found my sparkling glimmer of hope.

Now wait a minute – don’t think for a second that I’m about to say that my kids will ever hang from a lamppost in the middle of town square and shout my praises to the masses. I’m not delusional, friends. No, no. This is definitely one of those times when the original language tweaked something deeper than our own English translation was able to convey to my heart (and you thought I was starting to lose it…well, fear not – “it” is all here in it’s glory).

Just for kicks I looked up that Hebrew word used there for “call (her) blessed”, and do you know what I found? It actually means “to call someone ‘blessed’”. Shocking, I know. But then the definition goes on to say that it also is used in other instances to call someone “happy”. Hmmm. Let the conviction games begin!

I immediately started to wonder if my children would “rise up and called me happy” to anyone, ever. And I have to admit that I think one of them would most of the time. He’s the one that doesn’t get in trouble a lot, so to him, life is pretty happy. But the other one? Yeah, I don’t think Little Man would exactly use “happy” as his chosen adjective for Dear Old Mom.

Just the other day we were watching a movie together when a character on screen started yelling in frustration over something. In his cute little stutter, Little Man turned to me and asked, “Why wh- why that man yellin’?” I told him it was because he was just upset over something, and without hesitating he asked, “Wike you?”

Ouch.

But you know, I actually think that’s something I can work on. In fact, I think the Lord’s been dealing with my heart on this subject a lot lately. He’s been gently teaching me about appreciating people and things, resting in Him, enjoying His presence and – yes – not losing it so much with my three year old. I’d say He’s definitely leading me in a direction that could result in a lot more happiness in my home.

For quite some time the greatest desire of my heart has been to experience unhindered joy in the Lord, of which happiness is a mere byproduct. Now, I know that doesn’t mean that every day would look like the filming of a Brady Bunch song (you know – from those later episodes when they thought it was a good idea to be in a singing group together…until You Know Who’s voice changed and ruined everything…), but I don’t think that’s what real “happiness” is all about anyway. I think it has a lot more to do with the state of your mind and the place of your heart.

I also know that our enemy just read these words I’ve written and would love nothing else than to knock this “silly” little notion out of my head forever. But I pray that the Lord would protect me from his schemes and let me take joy in the fact that my Dad really is bigger and stronger than that bully, and that He’s already beat his tail all over the playground and back.

Yes, I think happiness – in the right, Christ-led sense of the word – is attainable, even for me (despite what my youngest might think). It's in there somewhere, buried beneath the yelling and gnashing of teeth that is seen most often around bed times and in Target or Wal-Mart. With a little help from the Lord I'll be able to dig it up and present it as a treasure to my sons. And I’m looking forward to laughing when my sons stand up in the presence of witnesses and declare: “My mom may not be the Proverbs 31 woman, but she’s happy!”

Oh, what a fun day that will be!

Delight And Rest

I've just returned from a day of solitude - 24 hours of silence and being alone with the Lord - and I have to say that it was sweet and wonderful. I've mentioned on here, oh, I don't know, about a million times lately that I've been overwhelmed with living at the speed of life the past few months, and it was definitely time for a break. Honestly, no vacation in the world could have been more refreshing for my soul!

The Lord allowed me a lot of sweet rest and sleep, and then He had a specific word for me: "Delight in me. Enjoy me!" Up until yesterday I had always thought that "delighting in the Lord" was a suggestion. You know, like, "Try taking a warm bath to relax...it works for me!" But He very clearly showed me in His word that delighting in Him and enjoying Him is just as much of a command as "do good" or "turn from evil".

The scripture He had me focus the most on was Psalm 37. He definitely had some peace to speak into my heart concerning economy-type things through these verses, which maybe I'll get a chance to write about soon. If you read Psalm 37, you might see that it can be fairly easily broken down into two categories: commands and promises. Even all the stuff in there about what happens to wicked people can really be chalked up on the "promises" side of the board. And when you do that with the whole psalm, you'll very quickly see that "delight" and "enjoy" show up as commands.

Now we would never, ever think of "turning from evil" as a strong suggestion that we could simply take or leave at our own whim, would we? I mean, that doesn't even seem like a remote point of negotiation in the kingdom of our Lord, does it? Well what if He is just as serious about us delighting in Him? I'm beginning to think that He is.

How amazing is our God that He would command us to stop and enjoy Him. To take a break and breathe a deep, calming breath of His presence. I'd love for you to stop right now and think of something that you really, really enjoy - something that is your special escape from the reality of life. You got that picture in your head? For me it's a warm, candle-lit bath and chocolate truffles (shallow, I know - but it works for me...). As much joy and satisfaction and release that moment or thing or experience gives you - that is what God is commanding you to experience with Him. Amazing thought, isn't it?

I'm really looking forward to figuring out how to make enjoying the Lord a routine part of my spiritual discipline, and I'm excited to see how it might look! But most of all, I'm thankful for a God and Father who delights in me and wants me to enjoy and delight in Him so much that He commands it. What an amazing God we serve!

WIGIAT? I think I know...

I was sitting in the pickup line at school the other day when I saw a bumper sticker that really made me think. No, it wasn’t the one mini van’s giant red Darth Vader head my kids are so envious of, it was one I’d actually not seen yet. At first glance, it simply said, “WIGIAT”.

As I sat there and thought, Wigi-what?, and assumed that it probably had something to do with our current president (as about half the bumper stickers around here that have anything to do with the letter W do), I noticed that it said something else in very small print underneath those letters. I had to nearly snuggle up in their backseat to read it, but somehow I was able to make it out just short of hitting their rear bumper. It read:

“WHERE IS GOD IN ALL THIS”

It was kind of a disturbing thought to begin with, then I saw the “Jesus fish” not too far above it on the back door. At that point I was really disturbed.

I kind of wanted to get out of the car and remind her where God is in all this. God is exactly where He’s always been, and right where He belongs: on His throne.

Psalm 29:10 says, “The Lord sits enthroned over the flood; the Lord is enthroned as King forever”, and I believe it. Yes, our world is a mess. And yes, it would appear that we are drowning in it. But that doesn’t mean that God has forgotten us or disappeared. He sees us and He knows our hurt and confusion. He feels our pain and is deeply saddened by our fears. This is far from the Eden He designed for us, and He can’t wait to step in and take us home.

So why doesn’t He do something about it? Because He’s perfect and patient and just, and so much in love with us that He can’t. Doesn’t seem to make sense, does it? 2 Peter 3:9 tells us why it should make perfect sense: “The Lord is not slow in keeping his promise, as some understand slowness. He is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance.” He’s waiting for us to believe so we can come home.

I must admit, though, that some days I feel selfishly feel like enough people believe that He needs to come back and save us all from the rest of us who don’t, you know? But that’s just one more reason in a long line of reasons why I am so very, very glad that I am not God. He alone is perfect, and He alone knows the hearts of men. He already knows the perfect time to step in and make Himself known to even those who refuse to believe. It’s been marked on His calendar since before the beginning of time, and you can rest assured that He won’t forget or be a minute late. Our God is perfect and perfectly on time.

So where is God in all this? Right where He should be. And to those of us who do believe, that place is closer to us than our next breath. Through the Holy Spirit we have uninterrupted access to the Lord our God, who works tirelessly in and through us each day to strengthen our faith and lead others to believe in His name. He hasn't gone anywhere.

After having a few days to think about this, I’m considering making a rebuttal sticker. Maybe if I did it would say something like “GSIRH” (GOD SAYS, “I’M RIGHT HERE”), or WIOFIAT (WHERE IS OUR FAITH IN ALL THIS). But maybe it should simply just say “I AM” – because that’s all we really need to know. God is and was and always will be. Ultimately, we have nothing to fear.

That being said; Come Lord Jesus, Come. The flood is rising…

Boy-Speak

Ok, so I'm like the worst blogger ever lately. It's not that there hasn't been anything "blog-worthy" going on - in fact it's quite the opposite. There's been so much going on in our lives it's hard to stop and take a breath, much less sit down and write about it. So for those of you who used to check in regularly (like when I posted regularly), please forgive me and please don't give up on me yet. I'm not done - I haven't quit a blogging "phase" - I just have to get a grip on this whirlwind of activities, events and deadlines we call "life". Sometimes I feel like we're so busy doing the business of "life" that we don't have time to actually live it! What happened?

But don't take this as an all doom-and-gloom attitude on my part. I think we are just in a season of life where we're not only learning to adjust to new things, but we're also learning how to say "no". As you can tell, we're not so good at that last part yet, but we will be! And our family will be stronger for it!

Anyway, as a goodwill gesture (and a way to actually post something on this day when I have two sick kids and a husband who is away for the day), I thought I would offer up a little lighthearted "piece" on how to decipher some of the lingo in our household. Enjoy, and pray that my priorities will come into focus soon so that I can be back in the swing of writing!

A dictionary of terms you’ll need encase you visit my house someday:

Joopbits – the small wooden things Daddy likes to stick in his mouth after dinner.

Shark – 1. a sometimes rather large and possibly ferocious sea creature; 2. the name for anything that has a point on it or could cut you (as in a “shark” knife or a “shark” joopbit).

Pinato – a musical instrument consisting of black and white keys. Instrument is usually played with your hands in loud banging patterns that adults find quite annoying (unless they aren’t in charge of you and then it becomes “cute”).

Bwudder – a male sibling. *Note: can be interchanged with “punching bag”, “scapegoat”, and on rare occasions “best friend”.

Bonina – a long, yellow fruit that can be peeled, smashed and ground into the carpet when mom isn’t looking.

Peapop – a very colorful exotic bird which can be found at the zoo and in the woods around Aunt Kellee’s house.

Poskickles – a cold, frozen treat that is best served in the bathtub or to shirtless wonders in their swimming trunks.

Nightberries – bad dreams you have after you see something scary that you weren’t supposed to be watching in the first place

The King, aka The Princess – the principal at Big “Bwudder’s” school who gets him out of the car every morning. Yeah, he’s famous.

Pahtark – tasty toaster pastry usually served at breakfast. Can be found in rogue trace amounts in the couch cushions, the carpet, the arm chair… (why do we buy those things again?)

Chickenpway – our favorite fast food restaurant, home of the “pway pwace”, our favorite milkshakes, and (of course) the cow we're scared of but always want to see!

Magnetized - what happened to the boys' cousin when our pastor dunked him under the water during church the other day!