Rest

It was around Christmas time last year that we received the news that my mom most likely had breast cancer. There were so many unanswered questions in those first weeks, and I felt as though I was sort of walking around in shock. This just couldn't be happening to my family. It was something I had always dreaded, and it was no longer a "what if," it was reality. When you don't know what you're dealing with, your mind fills in the details, and usually those details are the worst-case scenarios. Once we had more information about what the extent of the cancer was, and what the treatment options were, I felt a little more at peace with the situation. But, we knew it would be a long, hard year. Intensive rounds of different types of chemotherapy drugs (one of which we were told was the most difficult chemo a patient can take), followed by surgery to remove the tumor, followed by radiation. Still reeling from the shock of my mom's diagnosis and treatment plan, I answered a phone call from my mom one morning in January while on my way out to my son's basketball game that my brother's barn had burned completely to the ground in the night. The barn contained most everything he and my dad needed to run their ranching operation. I rushed over to my mom and dad's home and just held my mom while she cried. There were just no words. The only thing that went through my mind was to "Remember His Faithfulness." This was based on this passage of scripture in Psalm 77 " 11 I will remember the works of the Lord; Surely I will remember Your wonders of old. 12 I will also meditate on all Your work, And talk of Your deeds" Psalm 77:11-12 Many years go, I began journaling God's specific works in my life as a way to apply this passage of scripture. I have a short memory, and am prone to feel sorry for myself, wondering where God is in the midst of difficulties. During those times of trials and trouble, it is so helpful to remember the times God's hand was so evident in my life. Earlier in the fall, before all of this had happened, I happened to pull out my old journals (something I hadn't done in quite some time) and read all of those things again. I felt the Lord impressing that instruction onto my heart once again to, "Remember My Faithfulness." He knew I would need to remember those times of His specific intervention in my life in the face of what would seem like his apparent absence. Mom began her treatment shortly after, and throughout those winter, spring and early summer months, there were so many ups and downs. I'm sure during that time my mom went to dark places most of us never even knew about. I cannot imagine how difficult that time must have been for her, but I know how difficult it was for me and my family. One thing I realized about this time is how very much my family loves each other. My boys love their grandma and papa so much. Explaining to them the different phases of her treatment was difficult, but they were such little troopers and loved their grandma no matter how many questions they had. My brother and his family were also there for every moment of this journey, even though they were in the midst of starting over after what had happened to their barn. I remember being amazed at one point to just consider how God took my mom and dad, myself and my brother, and knit together a family in a way only He could do through the blessing of adoption. It really is a miracle. (And yet another one of those things to write on my "Remember God's Faithfulness" list.) Now, it is nearly ten months later and my mom completed her very last radiation treatment this morning, bringing it all to a close. No more chemo. No more surgery. No more radiation...and God brought us through it. I prayed for a verse to give to my mom as she completes this phase of her life. This is the one I believe He gave to me: 1 I love the LORD, for he heard my voice; he heard my cry for mercy. 2 Because he turned his ear to me, I will call on him as long as I live. 3 The cords of death entangled me, the anguish of the grave came upon me; I was overcome by trouble and sorrow. 4 Then I called on the name of the LORD: "O LORD, save me!" 5 The LORD is gracious and righteous; our God is full of compassion. 6 The LORD protects the simplehearted; when I was in great need, he saved me. 7 Be at rest once more, O my soul, for the LORD has been good to you. 8 For you, O LORD, have delivered my soul from death, my eyes from tears, my feet from stumbling, 9 that I may walk before the LORD in the land of the living. 10 Psalm 116:1-10 I pray that my mom, my dad, and our entire family can once more "Be at rest" for the Lord has been SO good to us.

How to be happier

It's been one of those days...I woke up grumpy, a little on the depressed side. I'm not sure why. Usually, I can pinpoint these things...trace them back to a single occurrence that affected my mood in a negative way. Today though, I can't. Something has just been "off", and I am not sure how to fix it. On my way to bed, I peruse my dear friend Shannon's blog (click here) and happen upon this great video about "how to be happier"http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oHv6vTKD6lg#at=407 and it strikes a chord. So, taking a cue from the participants in the video, I want to tell you about the person who has made the biggest impact on my life, my mom. I have always been close to my mom. In my growing up years, and my teen-age years, she was always the person I wanted to spend time with. We had so much fun together, and we had so many great talks. Moving 13 hours away from her when I went off to college was difficult, but we made it through. We talked every.single.night on the phone. Yes, every one. As a newlywed, I remember my first night in my apartment with my new husband. It was then that I revealed to him that I had this "thing" where I called my mom (or she called me) every night before bed to say good-night. At that point, there was no going back on me (the vows had already been said), so I felt pretty safe in revealing this quirky little tidbit to him. At that moment, he realized my mom and I are a package deal. Throughout my years of grad school and learning to be a wife, she was always there for me (like she had always been all the years before), and our relationship deepened and changed, but only in good ways. After the birth of my first child, something happened to me. I'm not sure what it was...stress, hormones, trying to master the most important role of my life, who knows? But, it was during this time I experienced the most conflict with my mom that I had ever had up until that point. Now don't get me wrong, there was little drama, and what conflict we did have was usually resolved peacefully. But, I think we started to pull away from each other a bit. Maybe this move was necessary, or maybe it was just a reflection of what was happening in our life, but we made it through it. When I moved with my little family to Iowa, we experienced another little separation in our relationship. She was still the first one I wanted to call when I had good (or bad) news. She was still the one whose advice I counted on most. But, I think I needed this time to invest a little more of myself into my husband and my family. Fast forward a few years. We are back in North Dakota. In fact, she lives (most of the time) within a minute of my house. There are days we see each other or talk on the phone several times a day. There are strings of days in a row where we don't talk at all. I feel like our relationship has hit a "sweet spot." I know so much more now. I love my mom so much. I knew I loved her deeply, but when she went through a very serious health issue this past year, I was confronted, face-to-face, with the reality that I could lose her. And it was then that I realized that my love for her is similar to the love I have for my children...it is deep and limitless. Nothing she could say or do would ever make me stop loving her. I can't imagine my life without her, and I am so thankful God was Faithful to bring her to this point safely. She is the person who has made the biggest impact in my life. And now, I end my day, and I am happy.

Queen of the World

In 65 minutes from the moment I started composing this blog posting, I will officially be 37 years old. I can hardly believe I am this age. It really does seem like yesterday that I was 16 years old. I can remember SO many things, down to small details, about my growing up years. I am not sure when I became this woman when I really just feel like a girl.

A few weeks ago, the boys and I headed over for a quick visit with my mom. She sat on the couch, looking beautiful with her bald head and cancer body and we loved on her for a few moments. When we left, she called out her frequent reminder to me, "Remember, these are your best years."

They don't feel like it sometimes. Often I am bogged down by the stress and constant demands of family life. There are moments I want to be 16 again, and have few cares in the world. And then when I truly do immerse myself in a moment and enjoy it, I worry if I am enjoying it enough. Or I worry I will forget it. I keep a computer file of precious or funny things my kids said or did that I want to remember. I start to panic when I think I have forgotten some things before I was able to get them recorded. Those moments are gone now. They are forever lost to me.

I rocked my baby two nights ago. He sat on my lap with his cup and blankie, and I sang to him. He turned his head into me in such a way that he was nestled perfectly in my arms. I asked God if I could relive this moment in heaven someday. These are the moments my mama is talking about. I am the queen of their world. I look at the handful of dandelions on my window sill that my precious Graham brings me almost every day, and I want to freeze this time. It's going too fast already, and I know that someday soon I won't be their queen anymore. This time will pass as fast as my window-sill dandelions wilt.

Of all the things I have done in my life so far, of any accomplishments I can call my own, my best is being a mother. It is my life's work, my divine calling. Everything else pales in comparison to this one role in my life. I love my boys with a fierce love that I didn't even know I was capable of. So, would I turn back the clock to be 16 again if given that choice? No, I would not. I want to be their queen for as long as time will let me.

My Master

A few days ago, my boys and I visited a local museum as part of a field trip with our homeschooling group. Because I had understood the description of the field trip to have something to do with the history of electricity, I was completely unprepared for the experience that I had once we arrived. The first exhibit the guide took us through was on women pioneer artists of the Red River Valley. The exhibit primarily featured two women, one whose name was Annie Stein. As I began looking through the photos, paintings and historical artifacts, something about Annie Stein's life seemed eerily similar to my own. Annie did not view herself as a "professional" artist. She never received formal art education, and anything she learned about her art (which started with oil paintings and morphed into photography, among other things), she learned on her own by trial and error. While other, more notorious artists were gaining experience and inspiration from classically trained master artists, Annie was being trained and inspired by The Master. One of her quotes was,

"Do not criticize me harshly, for God is my Master."

Annie began her career by painting portraits of her family members from photographs. Eventually, she became interested in portrait photography and set up a studio in her home (at the exhibit, there were even photos of her makeshift home-studio, as well as a display of some of the furniture she had in her studio!). She was inspired by the things around her in her world, and by things she saw in magazines and books. She would keep a record of the things that inspired her in scrapbooks. I felt like Annie and I were kindred spirits, separated by 100 years. I have never considered myself a "professional". When it comes to my photography, I have always felt like maybe I ended up here through some circumstances I did not provoke.

I will never forget the story relayed to me by my Isaac. At church one night, he heard about a recent missions trip some of the attenders had went on to Nepal. One of them told a story about a woman who had children and whose husband had left the family. She had no way to support herself or her children. Unable to become employed, her and her children would surely die in poverty. One night, this woman described that Jesus appeared to her in a dream and taught her how to weave. After this dream, the woman was able to put this skill to use to support her family by selling the items she had woven. Somehow, this woman, too, is my sister. We are not separated by years, but by an ocean.  I know I am not living in poverty.  I know I am blessed to live here in America, surrounded by family who can help us when need be. However, like this young woman in Nepal, I needed a way to help provide for my family. God gave me this gift. So many times I look at the portraits I create and think to myself, "I shouldn't be able to do this." He has made me better than I would be without Him, I know this is true. Truly, "God is my Master."

Spinning

I'm not sure when it happened. Maybe the shift was subtle, or maybe it was like pulling off a bandage. But, somewhere along the way things in our country changed drastically. All of a sudden, right is wrong and wrong is right. And I am constantly surprised at who is on what side. Nothing is constant anymore (except, of course for God and His Word), everything is evolving and unpredictable. I think there are alot of factors involved in the shift...churches who don't preach the Word of God anymore (they're too busy entertaining everyone and keeping everyone feeling warm and fuzzy), social media spurring on debate and giving everyone a virtual sounding board (making us feel "connected" with one another and completely isolated at the same time), parents not raising their children and allowing daycares and school systems to determine what their children's values will be, the constant bombardment within the god of entertainment of evil things, and a government who has completely spiraled out of control and left us longing for true leadership. But, here we are, and I am exhausted. I want off of this carnival ride called American Culture. I guess I am longing for my Heavenly Home these days...where all is right and good. Where life makes sense. Because frankly, it doesn't make much sense to me right now. I'm not sure why there is any debate at all surrounding ending the life of a human being that God breathed into life. How is that even possible? Of all the things to choose sides on, of all the things to "go to the gallows" over, this is what you are going to pick? Killing a precious human life? Really? And now there's yet another thrust to end the traditional definition of marriage. The people have voted time and time again...this is not what the majority of Americans want, yet here we are. And the church, for fear of offending anyone and appearing "hateful" is either silent, or burying what God says in His Word under so many suffocating blankets of "love." I am not for hate. I believe in loving others. It is what the Word of God tells us to do, so that is what we should do. Yet, can we deny that the Bible states that homosexuality is clearly wrong? And I don't want any scriptural acrobatics done to show me I am wrong. I have learned in my life that the truth is always simple. If God wanted us to understand something, he wouldn't make it complicated or convoluted. I'm tired of what is going on around me...the constant struggle to figure out where I stand in this tsunami of change. I want the "good old days" again...maybe they were articifically contrived, but they felt good to me. I was small, and I had my mom and dad and brother who loved me...I felt safe and secure, and didn't have to think about much beyond my world of Barbie dolls. And I didn't have to think about how on Earth I am going to raise my three boys to fear God, and protect them from all that is going on around them. I want them to have that same world of safety and security, but I'm not sure if it's even possible. God Help Us.

The God who Moves

Shortly after Grayson was born, I went through a time of anxiety related to SIDS. I was so worried about finding him gone in his crib that I could hardly sleep at night. The anxiety seeped into my daily life, and I found myself getting anxious over other things too, but I knew the basis of it came from the worries I had over my Grayson. I have always tended to be a worry-wart when it comes to my children, but this fear was almost debilitating. When Grayson was diagnosed with a hole in his heart a few weeks after his birth, my anxiety intensified. I prayed, I knew my children were all in His hands, but I needed to find a tangible way to sleep at night. That is when I found the Angelcare monitor after doing a search online. This wonderful invention is a sensor pad that you place underneath the baby's mattress and will go off if it does not detect movement within 20 seconds. The first night I hooked it up was the first night of restful sleep I had experienced since Grayson was born. It was then that God planted a thought in my heart that when I was done with the monitor, I wanted it to go to a mom like me who needed some peace of mind and a little rest. Fast forward a few months. I am done with the monitor now, those weeks of anxiety have now passed. I still have the thought that I want my beloved monitor to go to someone who really needs it, but I am just not sure what to do with it. I eventually just list it on Craig's List. I got the phone call today from the mom. Through the course of the short conversation I had with her, I came to find out she has just lost her 2 year old to an apparent SIDS type of death. She has a baby too, and just can't relax at night and is fearful something will happen to him. God sees her, just like He saw me. He put the two of us together. I gave her the monitor as a gift from me. As a gift from Him. God is alive, he is moving every day. Every day a million little miracles are unfolding all around us. It is up to us to stop and listen. He isn't in the fire or the wind. He speaks in the still, small whispers within your heart. I confess, I don't always hear it. I am too inundated with noise and activity to hear Him speaking to me. But this time, I did. I knew he would move, and He proved himself faithful. Once again...faithful.

For Today

I look at your little face at age 3 on the screen, preserved for a lifetime to see. And I want to make myself jump through the screen and join you, and live that life for just a few moments. I hear your little voice and I can't believe you were ever that small. I hear it now, talking to your brother downstairs, and it is that of a nine year old boy. When did that happen? And just like that, the video I am watching stops, the battery is dead. Life is that short, we are here for a moment and then gone. The moments of today cease and become the history of yesterday. And I haven't quite figured out how to live in the moment of today. I am always wrapped up in the past, or dreading the future. Meanwhile, around me life is unfolding, and I am not really enjoying it, not really feeling it. I want to. I look at little Grayson, now a year old, and I want to tell him to "STOP!" Stop growing so fast! You are toddling around the house, and soon you will be running. You are speaking your baby gibberish to me, but soon you will be giving me your opinions about all of the things you think are important. We are living our life, doing mundane things like laundry and dishes. Once in awhile something extra-ordinary happens, and we think the ordinary will stop, but it never does. Even though something you have always dreaded happens, life goes on...the sun rises and sets, kids need to be taken care of, bills need to be paid. But, I want to hold my babies closer for a moment, for today. I want to love my family members with all I have, today.

To my Isaac

As I write this, you are nine and a few months. Lately, you have been going through some changes. It's almost as if you are on the verge of those tumultuous pre-adolescent years (can it possibly be knocking on our door already?). There's been some challenges with you lately, and it has driven me to the place I hope to always go whenever I have questions about my parenting (or anything!): to my knees. You have to remember, you are still my first baby. I have never done this before, I've never had a nine year old boy. I know I have already made my share of mistakes, and I hope I have already done many things well. But, I need the help only God can give me...I especially need His wisdom as I do this for the very first time. During this season of our life together, I hope I can point you to The Way, and keep you on the path of Truth. I pray I am never a stumbling block to your salvation. I pray, as I have from the time you were a baby, that I will be the right kind of mama for you according to your personality and what you need. I love you so much. I love you so much I think my heart has broken a million times from it. I still have this picture of you I carry around in my mind from when you got your tonsils out when you were two. I am in the hospital with you, it is the middle of the night, and you won't settle unless I am holding you and rocking you and singing lullabies. We must have rocked a hundred miles that night, and I sang until I couldn't sing another note. In fact, I got sick that night, and in between bouts of vomiting in the bathroom, I would rock and hold you some more. You were my baby, and you needed me. You still need me, and you are still my baby. You always will be. Lately, I have been thinking about how Graham, at age five, still reaches for my hand in the parking lot. You don't anymore. I wonder when the last time was? When was the last time your then-pudgy hand held mine to be sure you were safe in the world? I am glad I didn't know it was the last time. I want you to keep holding onto me. In this scary world, we'll have many storms. So many times when we won't know what to do. But, you hang onto me, and I'll look to our Heavenly Father to lead us on the Way. And I'll never, ever let go. I love you so, Your mama

When I first found out I would be having a Christmas baby, I was less than thrilled about the timing. Isaac and Graham are both summer babies, and I love that we get to celebrate their birthdays with barbeques and birthday parties in the park or at the pool. All I could think about was how this little one would forever get his birthday combined with Christmas. Also, the thought of preparing for a baby in the midst of the busy, busy Christmas season was a bit overwhelming to me.
And then...
I heard a still, small voice remind me one day of how special it is to carry a baby during this season. What a priviledge it is, at any time of the year, to be blessed enough to have a baby at all. But there's something even more special about carrying a baby at the same time of year Mary carried our Lord Jesus. Did she feel those same take-your-breath-away movements of a baby that is soon to come into the world? Did she stare in amazement at her tummy moving of its own will, wondering for the millionth time what he would look like? Did she feel that same nervous anticipation as the days drew nearer that I am feeling right now?
Click on the song above, read the words below, and contemplate the miracle that was the birth of our Lord Jesus Christ!

Hmmm my Baby
Heaven sent You to me
All the worlds been praying
Who will Save?
But who am I
That here tonight
I hold the One
Who’ll bring us life

Hallelujah!
We’ve been found
A Child is born
To save us now, Jesus!
Hallelujah! Light has come
A Savior who will set us free
A Promise for those who believe

Do You hear the Angels
Sing for You my baby
Men and kings have come to
Bow to You
But here in my arms

So close to me
The Son of God
Now all can see

Hallelujah We’ve been found
A Child is born to save us now, Jesus! Halleluiah Light has come
A savior set us free!

So praise to God on high
He has heard our cry (x2)

Hallelujah We’ve been found

Hallelujah We’ve been found
A Child is born to save us now, Jesus! Halleluiah Light has come!
A Savior who will set us free
A Promise for those who believe
Hmmm my Baby...

The Church & I: Part 2

I last wrote about my history with the church here in May of 2010. The title, "The Church & I: Part 1" implied that there would be a part 2. And, until now, I have not felt compelled to add to this previous entry. However, some recent events around me have made me feel as though there is more I could say. These are my thoughts, and my opinions. Some are based on scripture, others are based on my emotions or on life experiences. I do not expect everyone to agree with what I say here, but it's part of my story just the same. And, for the purposes of this entry, when I refer to "the church," I am referencing the American church (unless otherwise specified).
Recently, I have felt a disillusionment and disenchantment with the church (and by "church" I mean the organized, body of believers headed by a pastor and housed in a building of some sort) that I have never felt before. In general, I feel that the churches in my world (and the believers that attend them) are losing their grip on the Truth. I look harder and harder to find what I am looking for, and have a harder and harder time finding it. There are so many things going on in the world that are overwhelming...wars and rumors of wars, terrorism, poverty, famine, persecution, riots, political complexities, the global spread of Islam, anti-semitism (and the persecution of Israel), global financial unrest...the list goes on and on. Yet, what do most of us hear about as we sit in our seats on Sunday mornings? Certainly nothing that could help in our understanding of world events. And certainly nothing that even touches on what could be construed as "controversial." I listened to an area radio program recently where two area pastors were asking other pastors in the area to talk about the subject of abortion with their congregations. I felt bad for the pastors because I knew their request would mostly fall on deaf ears. Most pastors don't want to touch an emotionally charged topic like abortion with a ten foot pole. (The Catholic church does much better in this regard than the Protestant church does.) It's too controversial. But, isn't the Bible controversial? Isn't Christ's death on the cross controversial? Isn't He Himself controversial? Aren't these and other topics inside the realm of the "full counsel of God" that pastors are required by scripture to present? Why are our churches suddenly afraid to address some of the things that are on the minds and hearts of anyone who has the ability to look outside of their tiny world (and not everyone wants to) and take stock of what is going on? I am only 35 years old, yet I feel that some of things happening in the world are unprecedented. Although no one can know the day or the hour of Jesus' return, I feel in my heart that it may be soon. And I want to be ready. In general, the American church is not fostering readiness. They are too busy trying to gloss-up and dumb-down the Truth, so that others are not offended. They do this in the name of drawing others to Christ, and it is a lie. One look at the early church and the persecution it endured (and the growth it experienced), will tell you that this is not the right equation for church growth. Comfort does not foster growth. At least not the kind of growth that lasts. And besides, church growth (in numbers) is not what is important. If you teach the Truth of God's Word (and don't leave the "tough" parts out), growth will happen. This growth may be evidenced in numbers, yes, but more importantly through the fruit of the Spirit that will be obvious in the lives of the attendees. I hear more in church today about bringing in money, paying off the debt of the church and how many people are attending the church than I do about meaningful things. And I see believers in the church (myself included) struggling with life's issues, and feeling more and more "stuck" in neutral...not growing in faith. I know it is my responsibility to work out my own salvation, and that I cannot rely on the church to do it for me. This is my own apathy, and it is isomorphic to the apathy in the church right now (I, too, am too comfortable). But sometimes, I want to go to church and feel as though I have gotten a fresh word from God. I want to feel as though I have just listened to a sermon from an inspired man of God that listened carefully to the Holy Spirit in his preparation for that Sunday's message.
I look around me and wonder, "Where are the giants of the Faith?" Where are those Christian leaders in America who will risk all to tell others the full Truth of scripture? Certainly there are persecuted churches overseas, and leaders of the faith who have or are willing to give their lives for it. But here in America, I daresay we are too comfortable. Recently, John Piper made a statement in a sermon that stuck with me. In essence, he prayed that God would allow the American church to come under persecution. I do not take this lightly. I know what persecution means, and I know what could be required of me and of those I love. I wonder if I am ready to pray that? I know that is what it would take for the American church to wake up from it's apathetic, prosperity-induced coma that it has been in for the last few decades. I just wish the awakening would happen before it comes to that point.

The God Who Sees Me

This was a rough summer. It just seemed as though there was a succession of "bad-news" events, ranging from the ultimately insignificant to the major. From a broken leg, troubles with our neighbors, a dog bite, financial issues, and my dad experiencing a life-threatening illness, my strength by the end of the summer was almost gone. It all left me wondering, "Where are you God?"
I'd like to think I'm above these questions. I've been a Christian nearly my entire life, and although my faith isn't always as strong as I wished it were, I know enough to know He's always there, an ever-present help in time of trouble.
But, sometimes you don't feel Him.
And I didn't feel Him a lot this summer.
Until that one afternoon.
My dad was very sick in the ICU of the hospital, and I was just barely hanging on to my emotional stability. We were gathered outside in a parking lot visiting with family when I turned my back to get something out of the van. When I turned back again to see where Graham was, I saw him balancing on the curb of one of the busiest streets in Fargo. One false move, and he would have been right in the way of on-coming traffic. I screamed his name, and he turned and started walking toward me.
And instantly, I knew He was there.
I may not have felt Him.
I may not have known where He was and what He was doing.
But, my God saw me. And He saw my little boy, and He was safe in His hand while my back was turned.
"But if I go to the east, he is not there; if I go to the west, I do not find him.
When he is at work in the north, I do not see him; when he turns to the south, I catch no glimpse of him.
But he knows the way that I take; when he has tested me, I will come forth as gold." Job 23:8-10
Thank you, Lord, for being the one who sees me.

crazy

Some days I feel a little crazy. I hear these voices in my head telling me that my beliefs are so over the top that I had better keep them under wraps. If people knew what I really believed, they would not accept me, say the voices. You mean, you really homeschool your children? You really think Jesus is coming back someday (and you actually feel an urgency to tell others?) I mean, what sort of fanatic are you? How about your views on church? You really think its not OK to omit some parts of the Bible to draw a following? Really? Oh, and what if people knew what your politics were? That would be enough right there to make you certifiably crazy. Fanatical. Over The Top.
These are the voices I have been hearing in my head lately. And they were starting to wear on me. Am I wrong, Lord? Maybe I should tone it down a bit? Maybe everyone else is right, and I am misguided. What is wrong with me? Why am I living on the fringes of what most people think is an "acceptable," "normal" life?

And then, I have been thinking about my grandma lately, and how her faith paved the way for me in so many ways. When I was going through a difficult experience with the church (and trying to figure out if I was crazy for thinking what I was thinking), it was her faith that helped make some things very, very clear for me. I wasn't crazy. And, I wasn't alone.

God's Word is living and powerful, and this was something that was demonstrated so clearly for me just this morning.
For the past few days, in the midst of these loud and disruptive voices telling me I am crazy, has been this verse, whispering gently into my soul: "For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind." This is not a verse I have ever made any effort to memorize in any way. In fact, I have probably only even heard it a handful of times. But, there it was...right when I needed it.

As Isaac and I prepared to do his Bible lesson this morning, I decided to read the entire chapter in which this verse is embedded. I opened up my Bible, found the book and chapter, and this is the verse my eyes instantly fell to:

"I have been reminded of your sincere faith, which first lived in your grandmother Lois"

Do you know what my grandma's name is? It's the same name that is my middle name. It is Lois.
Isn't God Good? Isn't He Faithful? Isn't His Word Living and Powerful? I am awestruck that the God who created the universe cares to speak down into my situation, using ancient words that are as precise as a laser. I am not crazy. And even if you think I am, it's worth it.

beautiful perfection

Something about this clip from "Lady and the Tramp" always resonates deep in my heart when I watch it. It pulls me in, from wherever I am and whatever I am doing when Graham is watching it, and I sit captivated by it. And something about it makes me want to weep. I think its because this one short movie clip illustrates so perfectly what I wish my mothering looked like.
I am dressed in a beautiful robe, my hair is done in a beautiful up-do. It is morning. The day stretches out with hope before me. The sunlight streams through the beautiful window in my beautiful house and my beautifully made bed. I rock and sing to my little star sweeper, and I am thinking of nothing else other than how perfect he is.
There is no crying, no fighting between siblings.
There is no yelling at my children, and feeling guilty afterwards.
There is no issued apology for the aforementioned grievance.
There is no dreary winter.
There are no wars, and rumors of wars.
There is no fear about the future.
There is no fear about my children's future.
God is good, all the time.
All the time, God is good.
There is no messy hair, no un-made bed.
There is no we're-out-of-toilet-paper...again.
There are no problems that seem too entrenched to be anything but problems.

I don't know why there has always been this longing in me for beautiful perfection. There is hardly anything in my life to prove me successful toward this endeavor, except for my love toward my children. That is as close to beautiful perfection that I may ever come. But this longing to have that which I can never attain on this Earth...where does it come from?
I think my Heavenly Father put it there. I was designed for perfection. And all my life will be spent reaching for it, and grasping at the air. Until, finally, I will see it.

"1 Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and there was no longer any sea. 2 I saw the Holy City, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride beautifully dressed for her husband. 3 And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, "Now the dwelling of God is with men, and he will live with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. 4 He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away." 5 He who was seated on the throne said, "I am making everything new!" Revelation 21:1-5

happy birthday to you
happy birthday to you
happy birthday dear Jesus
happy birthday to you

On servanthood

I've been hearing a lot about leading others to Christ this Christmas. It always makes me feel a little "less-than" for some reason. After all, I think to myself, I sure don't have the large "sphere of influence" that pastors are always talking about. I see the same three people every day, and there aren't a whole lot of exceptions to that rule. The life of a stay at home mom can be monotonous. And monotonous this day has been. There have been endless requests. "Mom, could you..." "Mom, do this!" "Liz, could you...?" "Mom, can you help me..." until every last ounce of my energy has dwindled.
Tonight, as part of our advent activities, Isaac and Graham each got their own "special" bubble bath. There were candles and Christmas music and a tub that was filled to the brim with warm water and bubbles. When I led Graham into the bathroom, his eyes were huge...he soaked up every moment of the experience and loved it. Isaac was the same. They both loved the special treatment from their mama. We had a brief chance to talk about Jesus and the meaning of Christmas during this time.
And it got me to thinking about servanthood, about pointing others to Jesus. And my sphere of influence may be small, but its important nonetheless.
A few moments later, as I was walking to Graham's bedroom to put him to bed, Dave called for me from our room. He's had the flu all day and he wanted me to rub his neck a bit. I complained at first, but then a still small voice whispered that word, "servanthood" distinguishable only to my heart. I turned around and went back in and did my part to help him feel a bit better.
Servanthood.
"Sitting down, Jesus called the Twelve and said, "If anyone wants to be first, he must be the very last, and the servant of all."
Mark 9:35

(From the Iowa Family Political Action Committee)

Des Moines Pastor Stands Up For Children

A Des Moines area grade school art teach was recently placed on leave after she showed a YouTube video depicting, among other things, a painting of two men fondling each other under the heading "Safe Sex."

Pastor Phil Winfield of Grace Church in Des Moines penned a letter to the editor that the Des Moines Register ultimately refused to publish. While the letter did not make it in to the Register, it still serves as a great example of how a pastor ought to engage the culture around him.

Letter to the editor.
Re: recent pornographic video shown at Wright elementary school.

Madam Editor

I am writing this letter to the editor as the pastor of Grace Church, not just as Phil Winfield. More importantly, I am writing this letter to born again believers in Jesus Christ—the Church in Des Moines—not to the Des Moines Public School Board, or to the principal of Wright Elementary, or the teacher guilty of showing pornography to 9-year old children.

Dear Christian,

Nothing gets me fired up more than to see a bunch of Christians all in a lather over the latest infringement on our delicate sensitivities. Whether it is a picture of Jesus in a glass of urine, the State Supreme Court’s decision to allow same-sex marriages, or an elementary school teacher showing porn to our kids, it’s always the same.

Let’s get fired up and write letters to the editor. Let’s go to the next school board meeting and demand they fire this teacher. Let’s hold up signs about God’s judgment coming on America and how America needs to turn or burn. Let’s do all of these things and then let’s go home, cook hot dogs, watch a little television, check whether the Lakers or Suns will win, and live a life of comfort.

Listen to me, Christian – the establishment is counting on it. They know you better than you know yourself! They know from past experience that a little negative news like this will get you all worked up, but in a couple of weeks you will forget all about it. By the middle of July you could care less what the school district is doing…you’ll be on vacation. And by fall, when the school board elections come around, you won’t spend five minutes looking at the school board candidates. There may be a godly man or woman stand up to try to win your vote, but you will be too busy to vote.

So, do you know what will happen? The establishment candidates will win by getting a few hundred votes from the South of Grand neighborhood. And when they take their seats at the first school board meeting, they will gently smile at Nancy Sebring as if to say, “don’t worry, I’ve got your back.” Dr. Sebring will turn and look over at Lindsey Cornwell, the principal at Wright Elementary, and gently smile as if to say, “don’t worry, I’ve got your back.” Ms. Cornwell will take out her phone and write a quick text message to Karen Maresh, the teacher guilty of showing porn to 9-year olds. The text message will simply say, “All is well.”

That’s how it works, Christian. So don’t even waste your time getting upset. Cook your hot dogs, go to your ball games, live life for today and forget about tomorrow.

Or do something about it! Determine right now to become intimately involved in your child’s education. Don’t assume that your school is doing what is best for your child, hold them accountable. Become involved in the PTA. Start monitoring the DMPS Web site and attend board meetings. Educate yourself about how school districts operate and how they are funded. Join organizations like the Iowa Family Policy Center (www.ifpc.org) and become a part of the solution rather than let the establishment always get their way.

Understand this will not be an easy battle. History proves that the establishment is much more patient than the average Christian who gets his feathers in a ruffle once in a while. Christians typically spit and shout for a few minutes and then go back to living their life in blissful ignorance. The establishment knows this and counts on it. Determine to fight the long fight and finish the race. This will not be won with a single school board election or state house seat. This will take years of consistent voting, educating, and organizing to really make a difference.

Do you have it within you? Are you really tired of establishment “experts” telling you porn is art? Are you tired of the establishment educrats looking down their nose at you because they are the experts and they know what is best for your kids?

Do something, or get out of the way.

The ball is in your court, Christian. What are you going to do about it?

Pastor Phil Winfield
Grace Church
Des Moines, IA

This letter was rejected by the register.


This letter was written by a true man of God, the man who was my pastor when we lived in Iowa. I am so proud of him, I can hardly stand it. He is right on absolutely every point.

The Church & I: Part One

I have had a 34 year-long, sometimes tumultuous, sometimes eye opening, and sometimes wonderful history with that Body of Believers called "The church." I have been reflecting on these experiences recently, and have begun to ask myself how each experience I have had has impacted me. It is important for me to get this out on virtual paper, as I feel it has colored so many of the beliefs I have and hold close to my heart. Some of these beliefs are so intertwined with who I am, that I doubt I even make conscious decisions based upon them. I don't want this. I want to know the truth. Some of what the church has given me has indeed been truth, rooted deeply in scripture. But the majority of the rest is opinion, handed down to me from misguided leaders of the church.

I think about my salvation experience, and I hold it dear to my heart. In fact, I hesitate to share it here, as it is precious to me. I remember, very clearly, the Sunday in the tiny church we attended during my childhood, accepting Christ as my personal Savior. I can remember that tug I had in my little six year old heart to confess my sin and trust the one who made me. I know that was the Holy Spirit doing his work in my heart. However, I also remember feeling weird afterwards, like everyone was looking at me. I felt like a specimen under a microscope for some reason. I do not know why, but I remember having that feeling. Looking back, I am convinced it was the first attack on my faith by an evil that you cannot see.

This little church was like so many struggling rural churches in North Dakota. I remember a long succession of pastors who stayed for a year or two, and then went on their way to bigger and better things. I don't remember much theologically about this church, as I was so little. My memories of it are relegated to my precious salvation experience, and sitting next to my wonderful grandma making crosses out of pennies on top of the hymnal. I am sure, however, there is probably much more from this first church experience that colors my worldview that I am not even aware of.

Fast forward a few years. My family had decided to drive an hour to a larger church of the same denomination as that little rural church. It was this church that I spent the bulk of my formative years as an adolescent. There are wonderful memories I have of my time there, from church camp-outs, to Teen camp (and all the drama there, spiritual and otherwise), and older people in the church that I still have a special place in my heart for today. There were other things that also affected my view on God and religion. What it boiled down to was this: We were right, they were wrong. And, we could give you a list several pages long on why we were right and they were wrong. There were alot of "rules" and alot of things you could not do and remain a Christian. This church adhered to the philosophy that one could be above sin...that you could live a life without intentional sin. I am not sure if this is true or not, but I was hurt deeply by leaders of this church who claimed to be "sanctified" and living above intentional sin. To me, their sin seemed very intentional.
All in all though, my years in this church were probably a bit more about my friends and a bit less about truly having a deep relationship with Christ. I think I leared a lot about how to act "right" during these years. I became a perfect teen-age Christian, if there is such a thing. Don't get me wrong, I know my committment was real. But, many of the things I did or didn't do were based more on my church's "rules," and what others expected of me, and not based a lot on the Bible.

Off to college I went, in a new state, in a big city. These four years were definitely a time of me testing and solidifying my faith. This is due in part to the wonderful Christian professors I had at the Christian college I attended. Because of conveinence, I attended the very large campus church during those four years. It was not a church I became involved in at all, but learned a few things about the church during those influential years. The "lesson" that I recall most when I think back to this particular church is that there are the "haves" of the Church, and the "have nots." I remember someone making the remark that only the "cream of the crop" attended Wednesday night college services at this church. There was a picture I had of the ideal college student that attended this church, and I didn't fit into that pretty little package. I was too North Dakotan. I didn't have enough money, or the right last name. I probably wasn't Christian enough.

After my college career, we married and moved to Fargo. The first church we attended after we married is the church we attend now (although we have had a couple of stops in between). It is our "default" church. I can't say I have ever really loved this church, or felt as though I belonged there, but it is where our car drives to every Sunday morning. After the first few years of attending this large church, I think I longed for some belongingness. I wanted to not be just a number anymore. That's why, when we were approached with being part of a new church that was just getting started, the idea appealed to me. I wanted to have friends, and to be involved in something larger than myself. We didn't have children yet, and although I was fairly consumed with getting a master's degree at that time, I had lots of time to give to the church. And time is what we gave. We were instrumental in helping this church launch. We were there for anything and everything that had this church's name associated with it. I remember (with great disdain now) cutting family vacations short so we could be there for Sunday morning church. How I wish now that I could exchange those Sunday mornings for memories made with my family. This church, above all others, was the one that left me with the most bitterness for the church. It's something I struggle with still.

A couple of years into our experience with this church, we began to see that all was not as it seemed to be. There were philosophies this church held that did not hold up when compared with scripture. I remember the pastor saying to me once, after I shared my feelings with him, that there were "some things in the Bible that were not appropriate to talk about on a Sunday morning." This church was about welcoming people (and did a great job at that...as long as you fit into the right demographic), but left out some really key things, like sin, spiritual warfare, the second coming of Christ, etc. etc. etc. Anything that would "offend" or "confuse" was checked at the door. This applied to the message of the sermon, and to the music we sang on Sunday morning. This church's motto was based on relationship being the foundation of the church. Yet, I watched as an elderly couple that had been leaders of my little rural church, attended this church and were completely ignored. I went to visit them a few times in their high rise, but soon my visits tapered due to the "busy-ness" of life. To my knowledge, they passed away not having a church they belonged to, after spending so many years dedicated to the church. This makes me very sad.
When I was first getting the idea that this church was not biblically sound, God gave me a dream. At the time, I knew it was significant, so I recorded it in my journal. But, I didn't not know what it meant until I went back later and read it. Basically, the dream was about a counterfeit gospel versus the truth. I am not one of those people who think God speaks to them through every mundane detail of their life. Not that he can't use ordinary things to speak to us, but I just don't think a good cup of coffee is an answer to prayer. However, I know God spoke to me through this particular dream about the church, however strange that may sound to someone else, and it is something I will keep with me always.
Of the church experiences I have had, this one did the most to solidify what I really believed. Not because of anything I learned during the message on Sunday morning, but because I knew the philosophies this church was espousing were not right. I had to figure out why. I dove into the Bible, and realized how important it was. I began to really revere and respect the Word of God after this, and I realized how precious it really was. This church was like a club, where the church itself, it's goals and successes, replaced the Bible and truth as the primary focus. If you had ideas outside of what the club believed, it was time for you to move on. Move on we did.

After this difficult time of growth, we moved away and began attending a church in another large city in another state. I really feel this church was our "healing" church after the previous experience we had just went through. We have great feelings associated with this church. The pastor was a teaching pastor, and had a great love and grasp on the Word of God. We got to know a few people in this church, but overall, we became anonymous. Being anonymous was something we desperately needed after the level of involvement we had in our previous church, and the negative break we had from this church. Part of us didn't want to become involved, because we were afraid of what we would find (although theologically, we knew this church was on the right path). We had learned that churches are comprised of people. People are sinful. I wanted to believe this was the "perfect" church, although I knew it was not true. For some reason, God has allowed me to continue in my delusion. Although I know there have been struggles within this church, God has not allowed me to know the details of the struggles. I am happy in my ignorance. However, one thing I do know, is that the pastor of this church lined everything up with scripture, and was dedicated to the truth. That is the most important thing. It was refreshing to find an oasis in a sea of churches going the opposite way.

So here we are, back at the church we started out at when we were first married. Again, we are here by default. I do not love it. In fact, there are times I don't even like it. For instance, like when I was told I couldn't put a friend Isaac had brought to church with him in Isaac's class at AWANA even though he really wanted to be in the same class. He was a bit older than Isaac, but small for his age. He told me he didn't want to go to his class because kids his age made fun of him for his size. I explained this situation to the leader, and was met with staunch adherence to "the rules." They would not make an exception for this child to come and be a part of a class he felt good about being in. This left a very bad taste in my mouth regarding this church.
There have been other issues with this church that have left me scratching my head recently. Part of me fears the leadership of this church is falling into the same "seeker sensitive" trap that so many American churches have fallen prey to in the last couple of decades. I believe this movement is a very sneaky ploy of Satan to lull Christians into a deep sleep. And, most churches today have taken the bait. One is hard pressed to find a church anymore with a pastor who preaches strictly out of the Bible, and uses it as the basis for all truth. I have had a great deal of fear regarding what is going on in our country and in the world today. I go to church with the expectation to receive a word from God, only to go and get another boring sermon on a topic that really doesn't matter in the scheme of things. I feel myself becoming bitter toward the church, and I don't want this to happen. Maybe my expectations of the church are too high. And maybe we want too much, without being willing to give. Maybe it is me, with my critical eye and avoidance of involvement, that is to blame.
I don't want bitterness to take hold. I keep thinking of the verse that says, (of the end times) "the love of many will grow cold, but he who endures to the end shall be saved." I want to endure, and I want to know the truth. I don't want the church's "take" on the truth. I don't want the latest church fad shaped by surveys. I don't want tradition. I don't want cutting edge. I just want Jesus and the Bible. I want to be taught. I want to grow. I want a refuge from a life that can be brutal and harsh. I want a place I can go for a couple of hours on Sunday, where He is free to speak to me, unhindered. I want Peace. Where is that? Does it exist here?

Sometimes we carry something around so long that it becomes a part of us. Then, when suddenly it leaves, we act as though we have a phantom limb. Even though we should be running, we limp.
I had this experience recently. For the past twelve years I have been struggling with a particular issue. So engrained it has become in me, that I cannot hardly imagine a day without it. This morning, in that place between sleep and wake, God brought to mind something He had recently done for us. Then, I recalled a point I had been at about three weeks ago where I had truly given up on this issue. I would like to say that I had all the right reasons for giving up...that I had fully surrendered to God's will and trusted Him completely. But, my reasons for giving up were less-than righteous. I was just flat-out tired of it. I simply just didn't care that much anymore if it ever changed. Then, something happened that I thought never would. God changed the situation and allowed something to happen that I never dreamed possible. And, I almost missed it. Like Martha, I was busy cooking and cleaning and editing my photos and raising my kids. And I almost missed it. It took the silence of sleep to calm my mind enough to get it. God is SO good, His mercies are new every morning. He is faithful when we are not. How I love my Heavenly Father. So undeserving of His love and Grace I am.

There's not just one word to describe how I have been feeling lately. A few that pop into my mind are depressed, overwhelmed, angry, annoyed, stressed-out, ungrateful, self-asborbed, tired. Now that's a lovely little combination, wouldn't you say?
I'm not sure where it all started. At first glance of my recent schedule, you might say that it started there...with way over-extending myself beyond my capacity. But as I think about the past couple of years, I think my feelings have been a culmination of lots of changes, most of them not so great, and others that were great, but hugely life-changing.
I can't quite say I have ever felt the way I am feeling lately. I am hoping God has a big purpose for it that I can't see right now. I also pray that my family, particularly my boys, will hang in there with me and that their memories of this time in their life will be mercifully forgetful.
I want to be a mama again. Let me say that another way: I want to be a good mama again. One who takes her kids places, does art projects with them bakes with them, takes pictures of the silly things they do...that kind of mom. I feel like I have been on major auto-pilot, just surviving the days since, oh, last January. That's a lot of surviving. Not even sure that surviving is what you would call it.
I know I have lots to be thankful for. Gosh, if I were to try and list all of my blessings, they would take up this entire blog posting and more. But I confess, I haven't felt blessed lately. All I have been able to see is what I don't have, what I can't do, and how I do not measure up.
Enough.
I hope I learn what I need to learn so this can be over quick--like pulling off a band aid.

A net of stinky fish

I have been more than a little overwhelmed with life lately. Oh, it's not that anything really bad has happened, I just have too much on my plate. There have been many times in my adult life that I have felt over-extended beyond what I could handle. But, this takes the cake. Having this business, homeschooling, keeping up with a two year old, and running this house are running me into the ground. There are seriously not enough hours in the day to do what I need to do.
So, after trying to solve my problems on my own, like I always do, I decided I needed to be in God's word daily, even if it is only for 15 minutes. I pray He will bless my time, not because I am worthy to be blessed, but because it is truly my way of letting go and letting Him take control.
I have been a Christian most of my life, and it's sad for me to admit I have struggled my entire life with spending time daily in prayer and/or Bible study. This probably sounds like an excuse, but I think I have always been a bit overwhelmed by it all...not knowing what to do, what to read, where to start. So, I decided to just start with the Bible...imagine that. I have been just choosing a book of the Bible and I read through it in a few days. It is amazing how, as you draw near to Him, He will draw nearer to you than you could have imagined.
Today I was reading about when Jesus called His disciples. And as I read the story that I had read a million times in my life, I started to cry. Something in the story touched me, although I wasn't sure what it was. So, I stopped to really read the story, line by line, and focus on what it was that was grabbing my attention. All of a sudden, it dawned on me that it was this part that was so real to me:

9.For he and all his companions were astonished at the catch of fish they had taken,
10.and so were James and John, the sons of Zebedee, Simon's partners. Then Jesus said to Simon, "Don't be afraid; from now on you will catch men."
11.So they pulled their boats up on shore, left everything and followed him.

As I read the verse, I could feel the weight of my net. I could smell the stinky fish. I could feel myself put it down to follow Him...it's all that matters.
Isn't He amazing? He has the power to meet you right where you need to be met.