It's Summer Vacation!

Went round and round with myself. Take the summer off blogging? No? Part of me fears it would be blog suicide- what if you lovely readers never come back? The other part of me knows Jesus has raised  people from the dead before and He can do just that with a blog as well.

On the beautiful days, I will want to be outside. On the crappy days, I will have to keep my children from annihilating one another. And it's going to be mighty hard to play sheriff if I'm frustrated that I'm missing some sort of self-inflicted deadline.

Then there's all the family road trips.

Plus at this point I'm tired and not desiring to churn out "stuff" just because I have to, regardless of quality.

Ya see what I'm getting at? I guess I'm on summer vacation too.

Here's what I hope to do this summer for you all: I hope to keep posting on Facebook. I hope to put up some archived "oldies but goodies" for your perusal, in case you missed them. I hope to keep reading other blogs, yours, and be inspired. I hope to write things down as I go through life and get fresh ideas for the Fall. Sound good?

But before we part ways (and we never really will because I think about you all the time and keep you in my heart and prayers) for a time... I had an issue with my daughter the other night.

I was less than gracious. She has a nightlight right by her bed. Right. by. it. It was on.

So was the hallway light. I opened the door just wide enough that it would illuminate just her face and not the whole room. I didn't need the littlest one woken by the light.

Her issue- there were parts of her room that were still dark.

My solution- LOOK AT THE LIGHT!

But she wouldn't. It was right there and she could only cry that the darkness 5 feet from her bed was impenetrable and malicious.

Compassion was still in bed, so I was left with only Impatience.

But not God. Jesus' light is all over Scripture. We're always told to keep our eyes on Him, the author and perfecter of our faith. To focus on what is True and Lovely... To stare directly at the Son.

Because we have tendencies to act like my preschooler. To be overwhelmed by our circumstances. By the atrocities happening every day in this sinful world. By our own sinful desires and actions.

And satan beckons us to observe darkness, and to despair.

But God's solution is far different. First, look into the light. Read the Word. Find peace in the Truth of His power, love, mercy.

The Lord is my light and my salvation- whom shall I fear?

The Lord is the stronghold of my life- of whom shall I be afraid?

Psalm 27:1

And Second, realize that this light is a portable thing. Not meant to just plug in beside our beds. The Power Source is supposed to be taken out into the world. Because we have put on Christ, we put on His servanthood, His sacrifice, His new life. 

So that darkness "over there" becomes light because God made us into nightlights for Him.

The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.

John 1:5

If you find yourself peering in the dark, I hope this blog has been a nightlight of yours. I pray you find comfort in spending time with God the Father and His word. His Spirit. His Son. I pray you live in the victory that is ours in Jesus Christ! I love you all and pray your Summer is a blessed one!

I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.

John 16:33

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Last link up of the Summer with Simply Beth! 

Marigolds and Miracles {What to do When This Mess of World Steals Your Peace}

The husband is back! Safe. Sound. Here. Praise the Lord.

In his absence, my parents ventured north to help me around the home. Thank you thank you thank you...

My parents each have a specific set of skills and I know that. So I made lists. Mom and I went grocery shopping, and she assumed the role of "Laundry Fairy." My dad's list consisted of fix-it type stuff that needed to be done that we just never get around to doing. That and gardening.

"You still have a rabbit?" His question referred to the rabbit residing in our backyard our first year here. The animal was huge and destructive. And impossible to intimidate. It was because of this rabbit that I started planting marigolds. Even after the rabbit disappeared marigolds have kept their vigil and rabbits have kept away from my garden.

This past weekend, as I put my garden in the ground, sowing seeds and plants into the black earth, the marigolds stood small sentries.

Then I thought of my children.

Little sprouts growing, bearing fruit.

It is enough to scare the daylights out of me. Because I'm not guarding them against ravenous rabbits, but a lion seeking someone to devour.

And Christ's admonition falls heavy on my shoulders, "Let the little children come to me and do not hinder them..."

If Christ was talking about simple Sunday school and church, I could rest easy. Check and check. Enroll them in VBS... Check. After-school church programs... Check.

But something tells me that Christ is talking the walk. 

And I am easily convinced that if anyone is hindering their walk with Christ, it's me.

Casting stones and careless words. Is that really giving my children Jesus?

Not to mention a world ravaged by wars, strife, struggle. Abroad. Domestic. Human beings are capable of such atrocities and I am one and the same. What can my feeble efforts do to stop the world from breaking my young ones to bits?

I drown in thoughts, reaching toward scriptures until I surface. I am buoyed by one in particular:

Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.

Philippians 4:8

At one time I hastened through this verse, summarizing "just think about the happy things," as though pixie dust and happy thoughts would carry me over cares.

But that's not what it says. Focus on what is true. I list the truths, deliberately. The Truth illuminates the dark dread. The Beauty of Christ is the antidote to the fear poison.

I can worry myself sick. Fears consume in ways no "happy thoughts" can battle. But when I focus on what is true, just, pure, lovely, commendable... I am reminded of God. Of His love, power, mercy, providence. It has never depended on me. That was never the point. All along I was only to plant the marigolds and trust the Maker. 

Relief. Release.

Plant marigolds. Build fences. Resist the fear that would compel us to smother our sprouts "for their own protection." 

Instead, trust the Only One who has overcome the world. The One who began this good work in us in the first place, and Who promises to bring it to completion. 

Where His truth reigns, there reigns peace. Where His wisdom prevails, there prevails peace. Where His peace permeates, the world cannot overcome.

And it is in His peace that the big kids and little children of the world encounter Christ.

But the wisdom from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, open to reason, full of mercy and good fruits, impartial and sincere.

James 3:17

My Apologies Etc.

Right. I have been less than faithful in my blogging as of late, but I have a really really good excuse!!!

The hubs is in Kenya teaching and preaching the Gospel. How cool is that?

And I have family in town helping me out so we aren't all by our lonesome- also cool!

But that means I'm encountering a temporary shift in my priorities. Not that you all aren't a priority- you really are. I think about you and pray for you everyday. I'm not just saying that.

It's just that correspondence will have to wait a few days to resume. I will be back with you next week.

In the meantime, please pray for the team in Kenya and the teams back on the homefront. We will take as many prayers as we can get!

Love,
God's Wild Woman

All is Redeemed {Lessons and Lunchables}

Ever get pity chips? Not the knowing nod of a veteran parent, bestowing on you some metaphorical badge of honor in the presence of a screaming toddler. I'm talking actual chips. Tortilla chips.

It started with a lunchable. My preschooler earned it by her "good" behavior (we all know the term good is about as relative as it comes) in the grocery store. We managed to make it all the way out to the van before the dessert contents were consumed. Before I even had a chance to buckle her in, the lunchable container was placed on the table between the two front seats. 

Buckled and ready to go, I glanced at the small plastic tray containing untouched meat, cheese and crackers. The only things missing were the cookies. I looked at my daughter, "What's this doing here?"

"I'm done," she informed me. 

"Really? What did you eat?"

"The cookies."

"Did you eat anything else? The meat, cheese, or crackers?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I didn't want them."

Paying a buck and a half for a small snacky lunch, I am okay with that. Paying a buck and a half for two Oreos- I don't think so. I let her know that if she wanted any chance of watching her "Frozen" movie, she would eat two pieces of each of the other items.

So as her fit of rage commenced, I drove us to Chipotle to get my burrito bowl fix.While ordering two burritos and two bowls, my darling child clung tightly to my leg, screaming as though a puppy had been slaughtered before her eyes. Over her sobs and pleading, I calmly conveyed to the food artists which ingredients belonged in each burrito/bowl, every so often looking down and asking her if she was quite done. 

As the young man rang up my meals, he gave my daughter a pitying look. "Would you like some chips?" You can imagine the wail that erupted after his well-meant offer. 

"She's fine," I told him.

He bagged our purchases. "You can just have the chips," he whispered as he handed me the bags.

"You'll need 'em," remarked the helpful woman behind me.

I walked out the restaurant doors and texted my friend, "I have also discovered the trick to getting free chips at chipotle... it involves screaming children."

We then remained in the parking lot until one piece of meat and cheese was consumed. She choked those down along with her cracker under threat of staying in said parking lot until it was gone- overnight if necessary.

I've been pondering this post for two weeks now. Two weeks at least. Trying to figure out just how to put this. Then this past Monday night I listened to Beth Moore assure her audience that every single part of their life had been redeemed. Every part. That's what I've been thinking this whole time!

No one's life is all frosting and chocolate. No one's past is all dessert and sugar.

There are some things we'd rather just put aside and say, "I'm done now."

But the thing is- God has redeemed it all. Every single bit of it. He didn't just purchase the Sunday mornings where the sermon was absorbed, the bedtimes where every kid was tucked in all timely and peaceful.

He redeemed all of it- even the unsavory moments. Those idiosyncrasies we have that drive us crazy. the relapses. The careless, hurtful words. The death glares. The selfish moments. Unsavory, yes. Unredeemable, never.

Those moments in our past where we made the wrong decisions over and over again- when we can't even understand how or why God delivered us into the place we are now. He has redeemed those moments. He can use those for His glory. Every bit of them can be used for His glory.

There is not one part of you that God is willing to throw away.

Does He grieve over sin? Surely He does. As a parent yearns for the welfare of their child. As a husband yearns for the faithfulness of his wife. He is a holy God and cannot tolerate sin.

But our God doesn't revel in our good and tolerate our bad. He bought the whole kitten caboodle. And He can work with and on everything in our lives. Of course love like that would compel us to strive toward the goal of pleasing Him, but never once do we need worry that we don't measure up to His love.

He sent His son to do that.

Believe that. God loves you completely. Nothing is outside His grasp

His love far surpasses our failings, and it always will. Who doesn't need that?

"For this reason I bow my knees before the Father, from whom every family in heaven and on earth is named, 

that according to the riches of his glory he may grant you to be strengthened with power through his Spirit in your inner being, 

so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith—that you, being rooted and grounded in love, 

may have strength to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God."

Ephesians 3:14-19

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Linking lately with Simply Beth for Three Word Wednesday!

We Are Healed {Written in Wounds}

Fifth graders are cool. Perhaps you already know this. Perhaps you have the honor of housing and/or loving a fifth grader in your own family.

I don't, but for an hour or so a week, I get to interact with the beings after school. Adopt them temporarily. They meander into our church in steady stream of chatter. They snack with their friends. Then they sing (or don't sing) dorky camp songs with one of the dorkiest people I know- me.

Music has a kind of crazy magic that draws out of a person a wild abandon that just can't be released effectively through speech. Add in dancing and ridonkulous lyrics about baby sharks, and you have wholly different people. So in a way, I'm pretty much a magician. Maybe that's why I have been accepted into the tribe of fifth graders.

I was initiated yesterday. While other kids filed into the sanctuary, a lovely girl and her friend walked up to me to show off their sweatshirts. There wasn't much extraordinary about the shirts themselves, but what was scrawled on them was worthy of notice. I'm still not sure I understand why, but for some reason these girls had their friends sign their shirts. In permanent marker.

I repressed the questions of my inner mom ("And your moms are cool with this?"), and marveled at the creativity and comradery demonstrated in the multi-colored names across their arms and backs. Friends willing to sign off on these girls. They knew them and more than that, they approved of them. And they were willing to testify to that permanently.

"You wanna sign it?" She sounded so cool about it.

"Yes please," I answered. I'm not nearly so cool.

She held out her Sharpie rainbow and I selected my color. I signed her back. Because I have her back. I signed her friend's hood.

I've signed my name before. And I've signed off on the most horrible sins. Music works its magic and draws out my confession in worship:

"Oh, to see my name

Written in the wounds,

For through Your suffering I am free..."

"But he was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities..."

-Isaiah 53:5a

Yes, I signed off on His death. You can see my signature there. No Sharpie needed. It is written in His blood.

But that's not the end of the story. He loves us too much to end it there.

"Death is crushed to death;

Life is mine to live,

Won through Your selfless love."

-The Power of the Cross, by Keith Getty and Stuart Townend

"...upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his wounds we are healed."

Isaiah 53:5b

And it is tonight and in the days to come that we receive admission to witness the most glorious of all paradoxes. The Servant King binds our wounds with His wounds. 

It's not just some cool theological mystery to ponder and solve. 

It's God the Father signing His name, His approval, onto His Son. Then clothing us in Him. 

We have put on Christ. (Galatians 3:27)

And it's more than clothing deep. It cuts right to the heart.

Because we are His friends. (John 15:13-15)

You are His friend.

He made you that way.

Because He loves you.

It is holy week, but Jesus didn't die for this week. He died for you.

So that when we are not enough, when things don't get done, when we say that thing that we shouldn't have said, when we sign our names to Christ's murder over and over again- He shows us the truth.

"I have called you by name. You are mine." 

-Isaiah 43:1

"I give them eternal life, and they will never perish, and no one will snatch them out of my hand."

-John 10:28

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A blessed holy week to you all. I'd sign your sweatshirts any day. I pray for you in the days to come. Things have been crazy around these parts. Preparing for Easter, then Kenya. Reading the Bible in 90 days and doing a Beth Moore study simultaneously provides plenty of inspiration, but little time. Oh, and I have kids.

Which is probably why I'm linking late with Simply Beth yet again. But hey, better late than never.

Love you all!