Baskets, Bubbles and Rusty Bottoms

Yesterday was a strange sort of day.  It was cold and wet and all around dreary.  I found myself, as is often the case on Mondays, sitting and staring out the back window at the fog encased trees; their spindly, leafless branches reaching in vain to a sky that was already falling around them.  Every muscle in my body was achy and tired.  I'd like to say it was from the extreme physical activity I had been involved in.  I'd like to say that, but I would be lying.  By that point in the day I had managed to jump to conclusions, exercise my right to free speech, go round and round the bush with the teenagers, and do quite a few remote control lifts.  I think I had a right to my exhaustion. 

After a tiring period of mental activity (ie my facebook games) I decided that what I really needed was a hot bath.  If a cup of bubble bath happened to fall in and the candles magically ignite, I was not to be blamed.  Of course, Monday's curse was not to be given the slip.  Right as I was stepping into my steaming hot bath of bubbles my foot caught a cute little basket that has been sitting on the side of my tub for a year and - PLOP - in the water it landed.  Now you would not think this would be the end of the world.  After all, it was full of loofah sponges and decorative soaps and other pretty little things you see around the tub.  The problem was, when it hit the water, the water turned brown, a dirty, nasty brown.  There was no way I was getting in that tub now!  I grabbed the basket and pulled it out, but the damage had already been done. 

It seems the bottom of my pretty little basket was made of a metal mesh.  In the year it had sat on the side of my tub it had been subjected to constant dampness and had rusted.  When it hit the water the rust was released and it made one serious mess!  I had to drain the water and start again and, thanks to the fact I have a miniscule water heater, there was no more hot water.  I stood there in my robe, in the cold, with my candles burning and my bubble bath washing down the drain and cursed the basket makers of the world. 

Into this little drama of mine sneaked a thought.  How much are we, so many times, just like that basket?  We look so pretty sitting there on the side of the tub of life.  We even hold all sorts of useful things. But hidden underneath is a dark rusty heart that no one sees.  We may not even know it's there ourselves.  Then the Lord brings the water of the spirit and as it washes over us, the rusty, dirty heart is made clean and new.  After I saw the mess it had caused I moved my little basket to higher ground where it will not rust again. A basket with a metal mesh bottom had no business on the side of a tub constantly exposed to water.  Often times, when we put ourselves in a place we are not fitted for, we risk allowing rust to build up on our hearts. We may continue on for quite a while and everything looks great on the outside, but deep down decay is setting in. 

My prayer this week is for the Lord to know my heart, to search out any places that have become rusty.  I want to re-evaluate my life and ensure I have not gotten myself into situations where I don't belong, places the Lord never sent me.  I don't want to be like the little basket with the metal mesh bottom.  I have enough to worry about with the size of my bottom, I don't need to worry about if it's rusty or not!

So, until next time, I'll be here, unbubbled, but, hopefully, rust free. 


Soaked in His blessings,
Spokenfor

Buggy trees, city lights, and New Zealand

I am one prone to day dream and while this may not come as any surprise to those who know me I'm sure there are those who see me as completely competent, always in control, level headed and right on track.  I'm sure, really, I am sure, surely there's one person who sees me this way!  No?  Well, let me continue to dwell in the land of fantasy where I am mayor and if I don't like you, you don't exist.  But I digress.....

One day earlier this week I was watching "Reflections" on tv.  Now for those of you who aren't familiar with this program, let me explain.  It's a lovely half hour of gorgeous pictures from around the world that is set to beautiful music with scriptures that come and go on the screen.  It's really peaceful and I frequently use it to escape my children refocus after a hectic day as a mom.  On this day there was a segment of pictures taken in New Zealand.  If you've ever seen the movie "The Lord of the Rings", you know how beautiful it is.  There was a picture of a valley where the mountains were so close together they were almost touching.  Covering the sides of each mountain were deep forest, luscious and deep green.  I remember thinking, as I gazed at the picture, "I wish I were right there, right there by that tree. That's it, I wish I were a deer on the side of that mountain, or maybe a squirrel in that tree, yeah, a squirrel, a deer would have trouble standing on a hill that steep.  I'll be a squirrel, or better yet, I'll be a bug, yeah, that's it, I'll be a bug on that tree right there.  It's settled then, I'm a bug on that branch of that tree right there."

As I gazed at the picture before me and I imagined my little buggy self swallowed up in that place, I realized something.  If I were, indeed, a little bug on that little branch of that little tree on the side of that big huge mountain, I would not be able to see it the way I did at that moment.  I wouldn't be able to see much past my own little leaf and my own little buggy home.  My world would not necessarily be one of beauty, at least not to my own tiny bug eyes.  I like a leaf and a branch and a tree as much as the next person, but they couldn't compare to the wondrous view found up higher.

That, my friends, is when the light went on.  How many times have we looked at our surroundings and saw only the same old leaf, the same old branch on the same old tree?  How many times have we seen only what is right in front of us and missed the bigger picture?  Sometimes we need to be reminded that there is, in fact, a bigger picture, a picture we often miss as we live little lives on little branches everywhere.

Sometimes we all need a new perspective, a new view.  I remember one night J and I were treated to a night in a luxury hotel in downtown Atlanta.  I had worked downtown, had been through downtown on many occasions and had never thought of it as a place of beauty.  It was dirty, nasty place with too many cars, too many people, and too much stress.  On this night, though, we were staying on one of the top floors in the high rise hotel and the room had one full wall of nothing but floor to ceiling windows.  As J pulled back the miles of curtains and the view was exposed it took my breath away.  The lights spilled out before us as if the stars had suddenly come loose from their moorings and fell to earth to dance among the streets of the city.  The beauty was spectacular.  I had never, in all my time spent downtown seen the magnificence of the cityscape.  It took a new perspective, it took coming up higher.

It is a lesson I plan on applying to my own life; this idea of coming up higher.  When my life seems less than spectacular, less than appealing and I'm convinced my lot is to live a life of drudgery and compromise, I hope I am reminded of that night, and that little bug on the hill side.  The Lord calls to us to come up higher.  When we allow Him to change our perspective and see with His eyes, we see the beauty that is our life.  Hopefully, we will understand we play a part in something much bigger than ourselves and our own little leaf.

So rise up! Rise up and be blessed!  Blessed by His view of our lives.  My goal this week will be to keep a little bug in mind, a little bug, a leaf, a tree, and a forest covered hillside, but most of all the beauty that encompasses it all.  We are but one piece, may we allow the Lord to lift us up to see the puzzle as a whole and to understand our part in it.

Until next time, I'll be here day dreaming, but this time, not about being a bug, unless it's a bug that has hopped a ride aboard an eagle!

Soaked in His blessings,

Spokenfor

Starbucks, checklists, and a whole lot of "shoulds"

Sitting in my local coffee shop a few days ago, I indulged in one of my favorite not-so-nice habits; I eavesdropped on those around me.  I justify this by telling myself if they wanted privacy they shouldn't be sitting in public having that particular conversation.  Anyway, as I sat there straining to hear the ladies next to me minding my own business I couldn't help but over hear the 2 ladies sitting at the next table.  One lady remarked to the other "well, I just went ahead and read 7 whole chapters from the New Testament. That way, I can mark that off my list for the whole week".  Wow! 7 whole chapters at one time?!?  I was clearly sitting next to a spiritual giant. (sorry, let me wipe that up, I dripped sarcasm all over your keyboard....)  Ok, so I'll be nice.  It was good that this woman was taking time to read the word, but, of course, it made me stop and think. (I hate it when that happens!) 

How many times have I picked up my Bible, read a few chapters and thought "there, that takes care of that for now"?  How many times have I viewed time in the word or in prayer as something to be checked off the list until the next day instead of realizing time spent with my heavenly father is the source of my life?  I heard someone speak recently about the importance of obedience and I cannot argue with that, but I can say I have learned from experience it is not likely that I will be able to "will" myself to obey very often.  Obedience springs from a heart of relationship.  When I was a child, I obeyed my mother, not because I feared her or because of what I might gain from her if I did, but because I love her.  She will never know the things I did not do because I knew if I got caught she would be hurt.  I have learned recently it is the same with my heavenly parent as well.  When my heart is completely in love with him obedience flows naturally out of it. 

Look at it this way, as a mother of teenagers, parenting can be difficult.  Sure, I can take away privileges or find other ways to force obedience, but that obedience is shallow.  It never touches the heart.  It may make life a little more pleasant for me in the short run, but if their hearts are never touched, never changed, what have I really accomplished.  The Lord looks at it the same way.  If we are only practicing our "christianese" because of what we think it might get us, it gets us no where.  There is no currency that can buy the Lord's favor or His blessings, not even obedience.  Sure, God loves to bless us, especially when we obey, but not if that is our motive for obeying.  The word says "see ye first the kingdom of God".

Lets look at that word "seek".  Websters dictionary defines it as "to go in search of, or to try to discover".  This is not a static word, this is an active word.  If we are seeking the kingdom of God, it is an action that denotes intensity, not lackadaisical semi-participation.

What are we really seeking when we practice check list Christianity?  We are seeking to please ourselves.  We are seeking a way to numb the voice down inside that calls us to a closer, more personal relationship with the one who loved us before the foundations of the world.  We are trying to gain favor with God by going back again under the law that Christ came to free us from.  Yes, even Bible reading and prayer can become works of law if our hearts have the wrong motive.  Think of the pharisee the Lord spoke of who prayed so all could hear him.  Do you believe his prayer availed him much?   Do you think the motive of his heart was to come into a closer relationship with the father?   It would seem his purpose was to look good to those around him.  He could then travel on his way with his self-righteous knowledge that he had prayed in the temple so now God was pleased with him.  No! that's not how it works.

There is nothing we can do and nothing we can say that will gain us more or less of the love of God than we already have.  As his children we are righteous and holy in his sight.  Does that mean we just go out and live anyway we want to? NO! That means, as we develop our relationship with Him our hearts are changed and as our hearts are changed so our lives, inside and out, are changed.  If we want to obey because we love him that is a far cry from trying to make ourselves obey so we can be good enough to enter his presence.  The Lord is grieved by this attitude.  We need to do nothing to be granted entrance into his presence except believe on Him.   He longs for us to be close.  The word says "He sings over us".  Does that sound like a God who is watching to see if you're good enough to come close? 

My goal this week is going to be to tear up my check list, to throw out all of the "shoulds" I saddle myself with and simply walk with the knowledge that I am loved, I am desired, I am cherished by the God of all the universe.  If you can ever really get a hold of that concept it is so freeing!  As we walk closer and closer with Him our hearts are changed and so our lives are changed.  That is the key.

So next time you're in the neighborhood of Starbucks drop on in.  I might be there, but I can't promise I won't be listening in. So be careful what you say, you may see it in print one day!!! 

Soaked in His blessings,
Spokenfor

Stiff-legged is not a good look for me

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iyReSMJw5MI

I hope you watched the short video I posted above.  The quality is not that great, but it was the only one I could get to load from youtube.  The link is a different video and one I recommend highly that you watch!   You really should visit youtube for yourself and look for fainting goats.  I hurt myself, I honestly hurt myself laughing.  It seems these goats have a genetic anomaly that causes all their muscles to contract and stiffen whenever they are startled or scared. This causes them to fall over with all 4 legs sticking straight out! (I snorted when I saw it, I admit, it is snort worthy)   I'm not sure what purpose this would serve in the wild, but I do know it makes for some hilarious viewing! I'm sure I got my ab work in for the day.

Of course, you should know by now, I can't just leave it at that.  You see, I first saw this phenomenon while watching Mythbusters with Scamp.  They set out to see if it was true and they did so in typical Mythbuster fashion.  Through his hysterical giggles Scamp mentioned how funny it would be if people were like that.  After laughing with him, the cogs in my tilted brains started turning.  Some people, if you think about it, are just like those fainting goats; immobilized by fear.

How many times have you been tracking along the path the Lord has laid out for you, happily minding your own business when suddenly the enemy pops out from behind a tree, yells "boo!" and we promptly freeze in our tracks and fall over?  Those goats didn't have to be in any real danger, they just had to believe they were and their bodies took over and down they went.  You might say it is their default setting.  There have been times in my life, I must admit, when I too spent more time frozen, stiff legged on the side of the path instead of walking on with the Lord. 

Fear can immobilize like nothing else.  Remember when you were a kid and you went through a haunted house or watched something too scary on tv?  Remember that feeling when your adrenaline started pumping, your mouth went dry and your stomach was in your throat?  Remember how you felt frozen in place?  I guess it's a sort of if-I-don't-move-you-won't-see-me reaction.  Well that doesn't actually work.  If there is a crazed, brain-eating zombie stumbling around your living room, sitting completely still is not going to make you invisible.  It does, however, serve the devil's purpose if you fall over stiff legged every time he makes a face at you.  It's kind of hard to accomplish a whole lot from that position.  Can you imagine it?  You're trying to tell your neighbor about the Lord, the devil sticks his tongue out at you and - BOOM! - down you go.  You're trying to spend a little time in the word and prayer when the enemy pops up and  - PLOP!- you hit the floor.  While it might be entertaining for someone watching, it wouldn't be very productive and yet, so many times, that is what we do. 

It's time to rise above our tendency to hit the mat.  We are the children of the king, we have nothing to fear.  The word puts it this way in 2 Timothy 1:7

For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind.


We have no reason to give in to the spirit of fear.  It does not come from the Lord.  I don't know about you, but I'm getting tired of falling over all the time.  Picking dirt from my teeth and leaves from my hair is getting a little old, not to mention the unnecessary bruising!  My goal will be to stay on my feet and remind myself of the scripture above, and the next time the devil tries to his scare tactics I'll remember those goats and do better at remaining upright.  Stiff legged is not a good look for me.


So till next time, I'll be here, staying upright and trying to get the grass stains out of all my clothes. 


Soaked in His blessings,
 Spokenfor

A night of hope

This year, for our annual fancy, dancy holiday gala at my church, I was honored to be asked to write a little something that went with the theme of "a night of hope".  After much prayer and gallons of Starbucks coffee, this is what the Lord gave me.  I hope you enjoy it during this season of remembrance of the birth of our savior.

Brightly colored decorations twinkle and shine, weaving a magical world of wonder designed to overwhelm the senses.  The little girl, in her very best dress, stands at the foot of the tree and gazes up, mesmerized.  The bounce in her step matches the bounce of her curls pulled up in a fancy bow, as she explores the bounty of gaily wrapped packages beneath the beautiful evergreen.  She hopes, oh, yes, how she hopes, for so many things; a new doll, a new dress, a pair of roller skates, and how, she wonders, will mommy and daddy fit that pony under the tree?  She hopes her stocking will be filled with delicious treats and she hopes she gets to them before her brother does! She looks forward to the gathering together of all her family, her cousins, her aunts, her uncles, her grandparents.  She only hopes her great aunt Polly doesn’t insist on pinching her cheeks again.  With a head full of notions of parties and ponies she wanders through holiday dreams, secure in the knowing that mommy and daddy love her and, for her, life is as good as it seems.  Buried in her little heart, like the seed of a fragrant flower, resides a desire which is beyond her ability to articulate, even to know.  The longing for something more, for something she has no knowledge of, was planted there by her heavenly father before she was even born.  It is the desire for Him and the hope only he can bring.

The tacky tinsel and faded decorations made by her own hands when they were so much smaller do nothing to delight the eyes of the teenager. With her tight jeans, short spikey hair and bored expression, she is the epitome of teenage angst under a veneer of polite, yet predictable, rebellion.  No time and no patience for her extended family, she is only present till the first possibility of escape should present itself. Far beyond the hope of new toys and candy, her Christmas fantasy includes a call from the guy who sits behind her in math class, a place on the student council, a date for the prom.  She hopes, under that tired bedraggled tree to find the latest fashions to catapult her into the height of popularity and garner her attention from her peers.  She hopes her aunt can control her boyfriend with his groping hands and unwanted attention.  She hopes she can, somehow, survive another holiday dinner with this family she was born into.  But in the deepest part of her heart where no one sees and no one know what goes on, she hopes someone acknowledges her, really sees her.  She longs to have her young heart known and accepted, cultivated and loved.  She longs for adventure and passion, but these are not the sort of things to be found wrapped and placed beneath a tree.  Even at her age she knows that truth.

It’s hot in the kitchen.  The steam from the stove top condenses as it hits the windows, cold from the outside air, causing them to fog over completely.  Pushing her bangs back with a flour covered hand, she is lost in her own kitchen world with seemingly no input from the outside, but such is the place of a mom. The simple delight in the season is crowded out by the list of endless things still to be accomplished. It hangs over her head like a vulture circling;  pies to be baked, cookies to be frosted, potatoes to be mashed and kids to be run out of the way. If she stops and thinks about it, she can remember a time when things were different; when the joy of this time of year still over flowed. That was before so many kids and bills, before she was the one everyone else looked to to make everything right.  Now, she just hopes this evening passes with not too much trouble.  She hopes her kids are satisfied with their gifts.  She hopes the turkey is not too dry.  She hopes Uncle Jack doesn’t get drunk again, there’s not too much arguing, the boys don’t kill each other and it all passes quickly.  She hopes, this year, there’s no bloodshed, no broken bones, no broken toys or teeth and everyone leaves with the same body parts they came with!  For the most part, she simply hopes to get through it, to survive it.  But look deep into her heart and you will find another hope, one so long buried, so long ignored, it is barely hanging on to life.  The heartbeat of this hope is ever slowing as it gasps for air.  It waits for someone to rescue it, to bring it back to health.  It is the hope of something so much more than what surrounds her.  It is the hope born into her soul when she first heard the call of the Father.  A longing for reconciliation, for unconditional love, it has been starved by the mundane trappings of an average existence.  Yet, it remains.  Her heart hungers still; hungers for peace, for purpose.  She longs for more than her husband and her children can give her.  She longs for more excitement than can be found in the carpool lane.  She hopes for a heavenly father who looks at her and sees more than a mom, who sees her heart and is delighted.  It is a frail thing, but hope lingers still in her heart of hearts and it calls to the one who put it there. 

The house is quiet, the kids are gone home.  The grandkid’s handmade decorations, covered so unevenly with glitter, adorn the fridge.  She is left alone with her thoughts, with her memories.  She misses her husband, she misses the frenzy of activity that once accompanied this time of year.  She finds herself going back in her mind to years gone by and as she visits each memory she prays for each loved one.  She hopes this year goes well for her children, and her children’s children.  She hopes her granddaughter navigates these teen years without sowing too many wild oats.  She hopes her smallest granddaughter continues in the light and the joy in which she now lives her life.  She hopes her daughter can somehow find a way to find herself and her God amidst the chaos that is her life.  She hopes for so many things.  Deep in her heart there is a hope for reunion, for connection, for a full knowledge of her Father.  She revels in the love He lavishes on her while at the same time knowing it’s depths are endless and she longs for even more.  In the dark of the night, when the house is silent and no one else is around, He comes and he answers her hope.

The weariness threatens to overtake her.  Unconsciousness flits around her like a stubborn, annoying fly, just out of reach.  The rough hide of the small donkey chaffs her skin as her body, swollen with child, feels every bump, every stumble on the uneven ground.  For hours, for days she has been trapped in this haze, relegated to this journey.  “Why, God?” she asks.  “Why now, when this child is so close to his birth?”   She hopes it is over soon. She hopes they are near to stopping and that she is still able to walk when they do.  She hopes they can find a room as she knows the event she’s waited 9 long months for, is imminent. That is one hope that will not be fulfilled on this first Christmas night.  When, finally she reaches her destination it is not a comfortable room in an inn where she is afforded privacy for this most sacred occurrence, but simply the stable out back, a hollowed out cavern in the rock where the animals seek shelter. There is no midwife present to guide her through the pain, the fear.  She is attended simply by the scared young man she calls her husband.  When her labor is fulfilled and nature takes over, the child is birthed into the squalor of her surroundings.  As she gazes in wonder at the tiny miracle she holds in her arms, the enormity of her joy threatens to overwhelm her.  For in this moment, for this time, it’s not the maker of the universe she holds wrapped in swaddling clothes, but her baby; the infant she has nurtured, protected and carried in her womb for the long days before birth.   She hopes she is a good mother. She hopes she can protect and provide for this wee one.  She hopes he grows up happy and healthy, loved and accepted.  In this moment, she simply hopes for all the things every new mother hopes for when she gazes at her newborn.  In all of her longing, in all of her hoping, she has little idea she holds in her arms the hope of the world, the answer to every longing in the depth of every heart who seeks the Father.  So she holds, she rocks, she nurses, she comforts the very author of hope on this first Christmas.  Unseen to her, just across the boundaries that separate this world from the unseen world of the child’s first home, the angels sing, the Father rejoices, and all of heaven is held in awe. 

There was no hesitation in his heart when the father sent his only son to be born of a virgin.  Sin had crafted so great a chasm between him and his beloved children.  So great was his longing to be reunited he gladly set into motion the plan that had existed from the foundations of the earth; a plan of reconciliation, a plan of healing, a plan of extraordinary love.

To this day, our father longs for relationship with us through his son; that same lamb born so long ago, birthed to fulfill the plan of redemption, the plan of hope, crafted by God before time began.  He did it for you, he did it for me.   He is our hope, we are his prize.

Spike strips, Christmas trees and perplexed dogs

So, the holidays are in full swing.  We've made it through halloween, eaten ourselves silly over Thanksgiving and now it's time to deck the halls, trim the tree and wear out the credit cards.  I haven't don't much decorating yet.  We do have our tree up, up but not decorated.  It's just kind of standing upright in it's stand in the middle of my seldom used front living room.  At least Charlie has stopped barking at it.  If ever I've seen a look of confusion on the face of a dog it was when Charlie first caught sight of J dragging a tree into the house.  He didn't know whether to bark or lift a leg! lol

I have to admit, the holidays are an emotionally confusing time for me this year.  I lost more than one person who was important to me this year and I'm having a hard time adjusting to celebrating without them.

The first was my Grandmother.  She was 92 years old and I'm sure is more than a little happy to be celebrating with the reason for the season this year, but I still miss her.  It just won't seem quite right to get together with my siblings and her not be there.  I can count on one hand the times we weren't together.

The other is my oldest cousin, Becky.  We lost her many years too soon in a tragic accident.  She was our family organizer.  We didn't always get together as an extended family anymore, but when we did it was because she organized it and badgered us all into being there.  We were always so glad that she did when all was said and done.  I didn't see her very often, but did talk to her on facebook on a regular basis.  I will miss her infectious smile and contagious laugh.

I guess you could say I am spending some time looking backwards this year.  It's something I try to not to do very often.  I have found I'm not coordinated enough to walk forwards and look backwards!  I usually end up walking into walls!  

Looking backwards is not always a bad thing, sometimes it's a good thing to remember where the Lord has brought us from.  Going backwards is a different story.  I was reminded of this during a recent trip to the airport.  We had to return a rental car and came across the dreaded tire strips.  We've all seen them.  The have these vicious spikes in them that face the same direction we are traveling.  As long as you continue going forward you will be fine.  Your tires will roll right over the spikes with no problem at all, but try to back up and every tire on your car will be blow.  You'll be going no where fast.  The Lord showed me this can be how it is when we try to head back into our past into a place He is not taking us.  I will be the first to admit there are times when the Lord takes us back into a place from our past in order to bring about some healing.  That's not what I'm talking about.  Once God has moved us on from an event, to return, even for a visit, is dangerous.  It's so easy for the enemy to trap us there, and just like the car with the blown tires, we are going no where fast.  Our forward momentum has been stalled.

The Lord doesn't intend for us to go backwards. The Children of Israel followed a pillar of fire by night.  If they turned around and that fire was behind them, they were standing in their own shadow.  It's kind of hard to walk at night when you're standing in shadows.

So today my goal is for my focus to be of the forward kind.  Sometimes I think I'm covered in a spiritual hospital gown; if I turn around there are things exposed that no one wants to see!  Really! Take my word for it! lol

Here's to facing the front!  I'll still look  back some and remember, but that's as far as it goes. I've learned the hard way not to go for a visit.  God is good and He leads us on to bigger and better things. 

Haggai 2:9 ‘The glory of this latter temple shall be greater than the former,’ says the LORD of hosts. ‘And in this place I will give peace,’ says the LORD of hosts.”


So it would seem to me it would be one of the secrets to peace.  He gives his peace, not in the former things, but in the latter. 

I've got my marching orders and they are facing front.  You know where to find me, come by any time.  I'll be here making my lists, checking them twice, and trying to get Charlie to help me decorate this tree!

Soaked in His blessings,
Spokenfor.  

Ninjas, Jerks and Dirty Dogs

It's Veterans Day so let me start off by saying thank you to all the brave men and women who sacrifice their own desires to protect my right to purse mine.  You deserve our honor, our gratitude and our recognition.

Next, I wanted to say Happy Anniversary to my Nanny and Grandaddy.  Today, they are married 71 years!  This is the first time they've been together for their anniversary in 11 years.  If they have cake in heaven (and, of course, they do, it's heaven!) I hope they share a great big piece.  I miss you guys!!


Yesterday was an interesting, fun filled day.  I heard someone say "a good day is a day one in which you acquire knowledge".  If that is the case, then yesterday was, indeed, a good day.  I learned several things. I learned, if you let a white dog outside when it's raining, you will have a black dog that returns to your clean floor as, apparently, fresh, black, soil is irresistible if you are of the canine persuasion.   Consequently, I also learned my groomer is booked on Fridays. 

I also learned that if you discover a 6 yr old has taken the Leapster game into his bed without your knowledge he will still be awake at 11 pm and be very grumpy the next morning.  So grumpy, in fact, I contemplated pinching his head off, hiding the body, and telling God I lost him.  Never fear, he survived to grump another day and I avoided a felony sentence.

I think the most important lesson I learned, though, was centered in my kitchen.   I spent hours cleaning.  Those of you who have been forced kicking and screaming  blessed to enter my home know, I don't always have the greatest luck in the house cleaning arena.  My mother-in-law has a saying; "cleaning your house while the kids are still growing, is like shoveling the walk while it's still snowing".  I pretty much try to live by that.  Anyway, what I found is evidently a clean floor will attract soda, and, if you live with a soda ninja like I do (also known here as surfer boy) that unopened 2 liter bottle will find a way to come crashing down with enough force to break the top off.  It was like the Mt St Helen's eruption.  First, Dr Pepper sprayed my ceiling, then, the bottle fell over and started spinning around like a 4th of July firework while spewing it's contents wildly on every surface within a 15 ft perimeter.  I was covered, Surfer boy was covered, the floor, the cabinets, the ceiling, the windows were covered.  The huge load of groceries just purchase and unbagged but not put away was covered.  Since he was in the middle of emptying the dishwasher, all the cabinets were opened so now all my dishes were covered.  My pantry doors were open so everything in the pantry was covered.  Hours later, I even found soda inside the kitchen drawers.  Inside!  Every time I think I have it all, I find more.  It was honestly unlike anything I have ever seen before, and if I'd had a video camera I would, certainly be a very rich woman!

How did I react to this unexpected geyser of sticky, sweetness, you ask?  I laughed.  That's really all you could do, was laugh.  But, as usual, I learned a lesson. (one other than don't sit soda that close to the edge of the counter!)  You see, it was in his excitement over the purchase of his favorite cheesy dip of goodness that Surfer Boy knocked the soda off the counter thereby causing the mess and earning the name "soda jerk ninja".  It was simply a failure to control his exuberance, but that's not the reason I didn't get mad. It was his immediate reaction that caused grace and mercy to flow.  He automatically assumed responsibility and started cleaning up the mess.  It was the willingness to admit his mistake and take steps to rectify it that drew my heart.  As it had completely emptied that 2 liter bottle, he needed a lot of mercy, and a lot of towels!

I wonder if our attitude can spark the same reaction from the Lord.  I believe it can.  When we bring a mess to him and say "this is my mess, I made it, it's my fault, what can I do to fix it" something in God's heart is touched.  He moves in, provides us the answers we need, cleans us and our mess right up and sets us back on the right path.  We may still have to endure some consequences, but we are graced and He walks right through them with us.  Don't hesitate today to take your "mess" to the Lord with the right attitude.  He lavishes us with his grace and his goodness! 

Surfer Boy didn't get into any trouble. He'd made a mistake and took the necessary steps to fix it.  While I did help him clean up a little, he did most of it himself.  He received some mercy from me, but, I'm not God so he was on his own when it came to cleaning the ceiling!

Till next time, I'll be here chugging away, chasing boys and dogs while trying to keep things in order and keep my sanity.  On the upside, I discovered a new perfume; Ode to Dr Pepper.  It could catch on.....


Soaked in His blessings,
Spokenfor