Misbehaving Women and Polite Stones

Recently J and  I found ourselves in Blowing Rock North Carolina.  It's called Blowing Rock because there is a rock there that does seem, occasionally, to blow at you.  Maybe I should explain.  Up in the mountains of NC, just outside of town, is a rock formation with an entire park built around it.  It is said, if you throw something off the top of the rock, which juts out over a drop of a couple hundred feet, the wind will blow it right back to you, kind of like a gentleman returning a lady's dropped hanky! lol Maybe it was out of order that day, but it didn't work for us, but people swore to us that it did, indeed happen at times.  We have been living here for almost a year now (wow! I can hardly believe that!) and there are so many places we have been unable to go see yet.  This was one such place.  So, when the in laws were in town for Easter we decided to make the trip over there. The problem was, no one informed the weather just what our plans were and it was miserable!  It rained, it was cold, and the fog was so thick you couldn't see the end of the van we were driving!  So, in the end, I think it was beautiful up in the mountains, but I really don't know as I couldn't actually see anything!

My favorite thing I brought back with me from our trip was, believe it or not, a bumper sticker.  It had the startling saying "women who behave seldom make history" emblazoned on it. I just love that!  I bought one for a good friend of mine whom I knew would appreciate it.  We all need one good friend who understands us.  Anyway, I have been pondering that saying lately (yes, I know I need to get a life!).  History is full of women who made a difference, who furthered the cause of justice, or saw growth in the kingdom of God simply by misbehaving.  Think of Rosa Parks.  You could say she was a misbehaving woman.  She certainly didn't obey the rules of where she was supposed to sit on that bus and look at the impact it ended up having.  There were so many nameless, faceless women who resisted obedience to the laws of the day in order to enact change during the women's suffrage movement.  The word of God is full of examples of misbehaving women.  Think of Rahab the harlot. She disobeyed and hid the spies  from Israel and in return she and her house were spared, and we know her story, she made history.  Let's don't forget about Queen Esther.  She broke the law when approaching the king without being first summoned, it didn't matter that she was his wife.  He could have, within the law, had her killed for that act alone. Yet, she bravely disobeyed that law and in the end saved the nation of Israel.  In the New Testament we find the story of the woman with the issue of blood.  She was considered unclean and therefore was not to be in the company of other people.  If she did venture out, she was required to walk along shouting "unclean, unclean!" By pressing in through the crowds and quietly touching the hem of his garment she broke Levitical law, but by breaking that law she received her healing.   Sometimes it's not an act that is against the law but against the accepted culture of the time.   Look at the harlot who interrupted Jesus with a group of men in order to break open an alabaster box and anoint his feet, wash them with her tears and dry them with her hair.  That was a great big 'no-no' that had tongues flapping and the town buzzing, but she walked away with the gift of forgiveness.

There are many times in our lives where, in order to get something we want, we have to go against the flow, against what is considered acceptable.  Sometimes the Lord will ask us to step out in faith and do something that will set a few tongues a wagging. Don't stop to listen to wagging tongues. Step out onto nothing and you will find it become solid beneath your feet. 

So step out, take a risk, don't be afraid to do the unacceptable, the dangerous, the unexpected, the taboo if that is where the Lord is leading you.  You won't be disappointed. He won't leave you hanging out to dry.  Trust Him and go misbehave and make history!

Until then I'll be here checking the weather and hoping for another trip to the rock that huffs and puffs!

Soaked in His blessings,
Spokenfor

Cleaning the fish does not mean giving them a bubble bath.....

I can't believe summer is here.  I know the calendar says it's a little ways off yet, but Memorial Day has passed and it's hotter than a cheap tamale so I say it's summer time.  We can all pull out the white pants and shoes now with no fear of being out of season.  I am in the south, remember, where white before Memorial Day or after Labor Day is taboo.  We survived the three day holiday intact. We had the required grilled burger and yard work without the annual trip to the pool.  I just didn't have it in me this year, well, that and the fact that I still don't have a pool key, but that's another story completely.  (sorry, I'm a little distracted by the ginormous spider right outside my window that has just caught a bug and is busy wrapping his breakfast to go. eewwww!!!)    We also watched the required series marathon on tv.  This year it was a show called "River Monsters with Jeremy Wade".  Have you ever seen it?  It really is fascinating.  I will never swim in a river again, but the show was great.  This guy, Jeremy, travels the world, fishing in all these remote locations for what he calls "fresh water monsters".  Some of the things he pulls out of the water are enough to give a girl nightmares!  He caught a catfish that weighed 300lbs.  300lbs!!!!  It looked as if it could have swallowed a small child, and was actually accused of doing just that.  Boat ride? No thanks, I'm just find right here on the shore!  On the last episode we watched, Jeremy was fishing somewhere on the Amazon river in South America.  He was trying to catch a really nastily aggressive fish with way too many teeth called the wolf fish.  So here this guy is in the middle of the night, fishing a small stream out in the jungle, hundreds of miles from civilization, for a fish that could rip him to shreds.  (Jeremy, while somewhat attractive, is not necessarily the smarted fish in the pond!)  After days of fishing, he finally hooks a wolf fish.  Unfortunately, the stream he is dipping his rod into is also home to a cayman.  If you're not familiar with the cayman, it's a slightly smaller, somewhat more aggressive cousin to the crocodile.  It's not something you want to cuddle up to! lol  They are the gangstas of the jungle. In other words, they will cut you.  Anyway, back on the river, Jeremy has finally beaten the odds and his frustration and hooked a wolf fish.  However, he is really more concerned about the cayman and it's interest in his catch than he is landing his trophy.  In his rush to get it out of the water before his competition can sink it's teeth into it, he lets it get away.  After words of extreme frustration the likes of which I cannot reprint here, Jeremy decides to try a different location.  Good idea, Jeremy!  Wow! what made you think of that one?  Could the critter waiting to remove a limb have been part of your persuasion?  So the mighty hunter moves to a more conducive spot, lands his aquatic treasure, gets the shot on camera, releases his gilled friend and as his smiling face filled my tv screen the credits roll and everyone is happy.

Most of you know me well enough by now to know my brain works in mysterious ways and sees connections where few others do and this is no exception.  After the tv watching was completed for the evening my mind continued to return to the cayman inhabited stream in the dark, lonely regions of South America.  (if I have my way, in my mind is the closest I will ever get to actually being there. my idea of roughing it means there's no room service!)  You see, Jeremy was fishing in the cayman's territory.  His reptilian friend was there first and had already laid claim to all that surrounded it.  Being a conservationist, Jeremy wouldn't just pick up a gun and blow the gnarly, blood thirsty monster away.  I, on the other hand, not being a conservationist would not have had any problem at all helping Mr Toothy meet his maker before I started fishing.  (don't send me nasty notes, I love all God's creatures, but I am allergic to being eaten by one)  Jeremy wanted something the cayman considered his and in the process of trying to get it nearly lost more blood than was healthy and in the end lost the fish as well.  When we are going after something in our lives the enemy considers his we must not go in blindly, hoping he won't mind if I just grab this one little thing and go.  Unless you enjoy a good spiritual blood letting it would be wise to take some precautions first.  Think of how much easier it would have been to land the fish had the cayman (the enemy) been bound up first.  When we have, by choices we have made, given the enemy of our souls legal right to something we can expect he will fight to keep it.  The good news is, through the blood of Jesus, it's possible to remove that legal right, bind the enemy up, and regain what has been lost.  Make no mistake, trying to do this in your own power will, most often, result in spiritual blood loss as well as the possible removal off a spiritual limb or two.  Don't hesitate to accept the authority given to you through the blood of the lamb to bind up the caymans in your life and take back what the enemy has stolen and now considers his possession.

What are you missing in your life? Are there things you have allowed the enemy to slip in and take that you would like to have back? Go! Get your spiritual fishing rod, the bait of the Holy Spirit found in the tackle box of the Word and go fishing!  But first, make sure you deal with the cayman in your stream or you could be in trouble.

In the meantime, I'll be here, sitting on the side, dangling my toes in the water............of the pool!  If you had seen what I had seen you would feel the same way.  I'm now suspect of the little creek behind the house. You never know...........

Soaked in His blessings,
Spokenfor

Do I have a weasel stuck in my teeth?

I love Charlie.  There, I said it. I admit to it.  I love him and I don't even care if J knows it.  In fact, J is the one who introduced us this past fall.  I took one look at that curly dark hair around big brown eyes and I was hooked!  The deal was completely sealed when he looked right up and licked me on the nose!  Yes, in case you haven't figured it out, Charlie is my little shiz-tzu. I know I am not spelling that right so don't bother to send me notes about how it's wrong and what the correct way to spell it is.  You are dealing with a woman who occasionally has to check her drivers license to make sure she is spelling her name correctly.  After all, I've only had this last name for 20 years.  You can't expect perfection over night.  Aaaanyway, back to Charlie.  He was a birthday present from J last year.  He's a sweet little dog who is a lot of company here when I'm alone in the house, which seems to be more and more as the kids grow up.  Charlie doesn't do any tricks, he doesn't sit when you tell him to, he won't shake your hand, he won't go to bed when told, he won't roll over, sit up, or play dead.  The one thing Charlie will do is play fetch, over and over and over and over and..... you get the picture.  He has gone through countless stuffed toys, bones, balls, socks and numerous other items that have been fetched into ruin.  Right now we're working on a stuffed weasel, or ferret, the jury is still out on which one it actually is.
The thing is, Charlie will chase that toy for as long as you will throw it.  Sometimes I sit on the couch watching tv or reading and just throw it over and over again hoping he will tire of it but he never does.  Then one day I realized I am basically his home gym!  Who needs a doggy treadmill when you have someone who will give you something to chase for the equivalent of 12 miles?  I do, however, get some entertainment out of it.  You see, our downstairs are all hardwood floors and when you're a small furry dog they don't offer a whole lot of traction.  So, if you're not careful and you run pell mell after a small, stuffed weasel you can slide right into the wall. Every. Single. Time.  I find this hilarious!  Does that make me a bad person???  Do you think he'll end up needing doggy therapy?  Since little, lovable Charlie is the equivalent of a furry, male Dory from "Finding Nemo", I don't think he even realized he is being laughed at.  All he sees, all he hears, all he lives for is the weasel.  Must catch the weasel, must catch the weasel!  In his extreme focus he fails to see the obstacles right in front of his eyes.

How many times have we been guilty of that very same thing?  I know, for me, the count is too many.  I get a plan in my head, I set a goal, I make a decision and while not listening closely to the Holy Spirit charge full steam ahead and end up crashing right into the wall.  I must remember the safest place to be is along side, not in front of, Him.  He will never lead me into a wall.  I am convinced this tendency alone is a large reason why so many times the Lord will not lay out the whole plan in advance, but reveals it one step at a time as we walk close to Him.  If the path was highlighted in front of us there would be a great temptation to say "thanks, Lord! see ya on the other side" and go tearing off unmindful of the twists and turns in the path ahead.  I once saw a horse go running down a wooded path too quickly for his rider to control him.  When he approached an intersection he had no clue what to do and was going too quickly to receive the guidance the rider was so desperately trying to give him.  He ended up in the bushes.  He was on the right path, but he was going too fast to listen closely to his leader.  When we go racing ahead of the Lord, even if it's down the correct path, we will not be able to receive guidance on the turns and could very well end up on the bushes, or with out noses smashed against an unmoving wall.  It's easy to get excited about what the Lord is doing in our lives and in the lives of those around us, but we must not, in our zeal, go running off ahead of him. Because in our excitement we could very easily be having a dinner of paint and plaster or picking weeds and leaves our of our teeth.  The word has something to say about this subject too. In Isa 30:21 of the message Bible we read:

Your teacher will be right there, local and on the job, urging you on whenever you wander left or right: "This is the right road. Walk down this road."

If our weasel becomes our focus and not the Lord we won't be close enough to hear his voice and that is a recipe for disaster.  So I urge you today to stay close, listen up, don't run on ahead, you'll only get yourself into trouble.  You'll have less need of the AAA of the Holy Spirit to come pull you out of the ditch and put you back on the road again.  (good thing our spiritual insurance rates never go up! but that's another post entirely! lol) 

My goal today is to slow down a little, stay a little closer, and listen a little more intently.  I've spent way too much time in my life climbing out of ditches, bushes and brambles.  It's time to keep it between the white lines, keep hands and arms inside the car at all times, follow all speed limits and arrive alive!  Meanwhile, Charlie and I will be here.  I'll be on the couch throwing a stuffed weasel as I hold an ice pack to my nose.  He'll be the fur ball running after the furry little toy and.....  well, you can guess how his story ends.  Any one have the number for a good doggy plastic surgeon?  I think my puppy may need a nose job!

Soaked in His blessings,
Spokenfor

How I was blinded by vanilla creamer

Yesterday seemed like a normal day upon it's dawning.  There were no tell tale signs it was anything other than your average Monday.  No shadowy forebodings lingered upon our rising, the sun didn't turn to black and the moon to blood.  Nothing fell from the sky and there was plenty of hot water.  How could we have known what this day would hold? How could we have had any idea it would go down in history as, would forever be known as, THE FRUITY COFFEE INCIDENT OF 2011.  (da da da dum!)

Maybe I should back up here just a little and give you a little history.  J loves his coffee.  He's not your ordinary coffee drinker.  He doesn't just go to the grocery store and buy a pound or two of coffee. No sir-ree Bob!  We have to order our coffee on line.  It comes from places like Yugoslavia or South Africa, or Venezuela or a bunch of other places I can't even pronounce, much less spell.  It all tastes the same to me, tastes like coffee.  Of course the fact that I like my coffee with as much vanilla creamer as coffee may have something to do with that.  It's just coffee.  It's sweet, it's yummy and it helps me wake up in the morning.  How can you go wrong with that?  That's right!  You can't!   J shakes his head at my immature coffee palate.  If I forget to rinse my spoon after stirring my creamer laden cup before stirring his coffee he can tell!  If I make flavored coffee the day before, despite my washing everything thoroughly, he can tell the next morning by the flavor of his coffee!  I have to say, sometimes, it makes me nuts! lol

On the day in question, however, I thought J was the one who had finally jumped the coffee bean, slow boat to java land.  I got up, made his breakfast and made our coffee just like I do every morning. (yeah, I thought I'd throw that in there just to make myself look good! lol)   J came down, took a sip of coffee and got the strangest look on his face.  "This coffee tastes fruity" he said.  Since mine tasted just like it always did (like vanilla creamer) I had no idea what he was talking about.  He insisted I taste his (shudder! no creamer, only sugar!) to see what he meant.  I really couldn't taste anything fruity, although by this time, he was looking a little fruity, if you know what I mean!  So he poured out that cup and made a fresh one with the same results.  By this time he was frustrated and running out of time so that was the end of that, or so I thought.  Several times that day J called me to complain about his coffee.  It seems the to-go cup and the thermos I fixed for him contained the same fruity coffee.  I really didn't know what to make of any of this.  I was sure it was all in his head as I surely didn't taste anything amiss.  I was getting tired of hearing about the fruity coffee and the many theories concerning it's origin.  By the time J got home from work I was so over it!  I made us a pot of coffee and, you guessed it!  He claimed, once again, it was fruity.  I yelled at suggested to him that he make his own cup of coffee this time.  He took the spoon, still wet from being rinsed off and stuck it in the sugar bowl.  When he started shouting I thought he'd found a gold nugget.  I looked at the spoon he was holding up to see a pink substance on it.  It seems the "sugar" had turned pink when it became wet.  Surfer Dude just happened to be standing there in the kitchen when this happened and I asked him if he knew anything about the "pink sugar".  He was trying really hard not to laugh when he informed us that the day before, while making kool-aid a bunch of it had spilled out into the sugar bowl.  He claims he tried to get all of it out of the sugar, but, obviously had missed some.  Obviously! lol

So in the end, J was vindicated about his fruity coffee.  He was not, in fact, two coffee beans short of a full pot.  His coffee was actually fruity.  After I stopped laughing I started thinking. (funny how that happens sometimes)  Why didn't I taste the fruity? Why did it appear to me that my coffee was the same as it had always been?  The thing is, I had never bothered to develop a discerning taste for coffee. It's simply the method by which I receive my morning vanilla flavored caffeine fix.  J, on the other hand, had taken time to savor his coffee, to distinguish the subtle nuances of flavor between the different blends, roasts and varieties.  I am so ok with that.  Just give me my vanilla caffeine and no one gets hurt.  Then I thought of something else.  (so much thinking in one day! where's the tylenol?) I began to wonder what else in my life have I covered with sweet creamer and so disguised the taste that I can't tell when something's not right?  The father of lies, our enemy, is very accomplished at sugar coating things for us.  He tells us "it's okay to hang on to that hurt a little while longer. That person meant to hurt you and by you holding on to that hurt maybe he'll see what he's done and change his ways".  You might hear him say something like "it's okay to be rude behind the wheel on Sunday morning, you don't have to really stop at that stop sign, after all, you can't be late to church. You have to teach Sunday School!"  The pureness of the voice of the Holy Spirit's conviction can be so covered with sickly sweetness we no longer hear it loud and clear as it urges us onto the straight and narrow path.  The problem is, we like the sweetness. Just think of Mary Poppins!  "A spoon full of sugar helps the medicine go down!"  To our human reasoning these little "sugar drop lies" sound right, they sound good.  But the word has something to say about our human reasoning.  Proverbs 14:12-13 tells us,

^12-13 There's a way of life that looks harmless enough;
   look again—it leads straight to hell.
Sure, those people appear to be having a good time,
   but all that laughter will end in heartbreak. (Message Bible)

I don't know about you, but, suddenly, I'm not too sure I want to be following the ways that look good to me.  I want to live so close to the Lord and know His voice so intimately that I can tell when there is the tiniest thing wrong.  I want to learn the subtle nuances of his voice so perfectly that there is no doubt when he is trying to tell me something.  I want to develop my spiritual ear in the same way J has developed his coffee palate.  If one grain of "fruitiness" drops in I want to know it!  My mind told me there was nothing fruity about that coffee, but J's strongly developed sense of taste detected even the slightest hint of it.  I'm asking God to develop my ability to sense when something is just a little "fruity", when something is just a little bit off so I can tune even more sharply into  what He is saying about any given situation.  That is my goal, to learn to listen to His voice and not to my own reasoning.

We have all recovered here and found our "new normal" in this post fruity coffee household, though we have taken corrective measures to try to prevent such a disaster from occurring again. Surfer Dude is no longer allowed to make kool-aid,  the sugar bowl has a new lid, and I'm thinking of enacting the biblical method of making coffee.  That's where J always makes it.  What?  You didn't know that was biblical?  Sure!  The word says it's "He-brews" not she-brews!

Soaked in His blessings,
Spokenfor

Itimidating Cats and the Dogs Who Love Them

I love my kids. I love my kids and my husband and my pets.  In fact, I love just about all animals, except raccoons and bugs, but bugs don't really count as animals.  Anyway, yesterday I was taking Mumbles to the dentist (who knew 3 root canals would cost so much? 3!).  There is a place in the road where there's a sharp turn as it goes up a little hill with train tracks on top of the little hill.  Confused yet?  Well, as we were approaching the little hill we saw a HUGE turtle.  This was no average sized turtle.  That boy could have made enough soup to feed a small city!  He was smack in the middle of the lane next to us.  Mumbles wanted to stop and take the reptile home, but since it was a snapping turtle I vetoed that idea pretty darn quick.  Little did Mr Turtle know, but a big work truck was coming from the other direction. Because of where he was sitting on the side of the hill the truck (or the guy driving it! lol) couldn't see our hard shelled friend.  I motioned for him to stop and Mumbles climbed out of the car again and moved Snappy to the side of the road where he was safe.  All was right with the word and the land was once again made safe for adventurous turtles everywhere! 

I have to admit, I get a kick out of watching my animals, even my four legged ones! (or as in the case of Leggo, my three legged animals, but that's a story for a different time! )  Take little Charlie for instance.  He's just turned a year old and he's the cutest little black and white dust mop you've ever seen.  He has springs in his legs, loves wearing a sweater and will do just about anything to get at a bacon treat.  What you see is what you get.  He's just Charlie.  I imagine, if he could talk, he would sound a little like a male version of Dory in the Finding Nemo movie, only housebroke.  He has no filter.  If he's happy, you know it, if he's sad, you know it.  When you come home and open the kennel his joy is overwhelming as he throws himself at you with complete abandon.  I can only laugh at his antics.

Then there is Yum Yum. 

Yum Yum is a gianormous Siamese cat we've had for years.  I think he's going on 9 years old now and he is beautiful.  He lives upstairs in Surfer Boy's room.  He has, for the most part become his cat.  You see, Surfer Boy's bed is positioned right by the widow for optimum sunlight exposure and this cat is no dummy.  He knows a good thing when he sees it.  Charlie isn't allowed upstairs, no little kids are allowed in Surfer Boy's room and he has a large expanse of bed which is never made up and is bathed in sunlight most of the day.  All in all, it's pretty much cat heaven.  The thing about Yummy is,  he's a great big softie on the inside but he doesn't want you to know it.  If we've been gone for a couple of days leaving him here without us he doesn't run to the door to greet us upon our arrival home, but he will sit at the top of the stairs and survey the scene as we come in.  When I go then, to pet him,  he gets this "oh good grief! if you must!" attitude, but then snuggles down into my arms and starts to purr.  Unlike Charlie, you can't take him at face value.  I know this about him, but Charlie, it seems does not. 

Yum Yum can make the most hideous noises you can imagine. (It's the Siamese in him)  Charlie is fascinated with him and yet scared of him at the same time.  Earlier this morning the cat decided to bless me with his presence down in the kitchen for a while. (I refuse to think it has anything to do with the fact his food bowl is down here)  He was sitting majestically starring out the widow in that cross-eyed way of his and Charlie caught sight of him.  He was immediately drawn to where Yummy sat but did it in that way we've all seen dogs do, where they want to go somewhere but are scared to so they get really low to the ground, stretch their bodies our and their legs shake.  It's always good for a giggle or two.  Anyway, Yum Yum started making these horrible sounds deep in his chest, almost like he was growling at Charlie.  Then he hissed and I thought I would have a mess to clean up on the floor.  Then, finding no traction on the hardwood floors, Charlie made a cartoon spectacle of himself trying to get away, fur flying!  Yum Yum then calmly walked up the stairs, ignoring Charlie the whole way. 

This is the thing. Charlie was never in any danger.  Yum Yum has no claws!  Even if he had claws he wouldn't know what to do with that dog if I served him up on a silver platter.  He is all talk, or yowl as the case may be.  Because Charlie doesn't know this (I've tried explaining it to him, but we have a bit of a language barrier) he assumes he is about the be eaten alive.  I guess you could say Yum Yum goes about roaring as a lion seeking whom he can devour.  (see where I'm going with this???)  The only power that cat has over my little dog is what the fur ball gives him.  Yummy's power lies in his ability to cause fear to rise up in Charlie.  If he could get over his fear the cat would be powerless. Actually, you could say the cat is already powerless, it's the fear within Charlie that holds the power.  Lose the fear, lose it's power. 

How many times have we heard the enemy roar like a lion in our life and cowered in fear? For me, the answer would be too many times to count.  As sons and daughters of the living God, satan has no power over us, except what we give him.  It is my fear of what he can/may do to me or in my life, that has kept me imprisoned not even looking for a way out.  I am in no danger from him. He can only touch my life if my God allows it. So why do I fear?  My fear hands the devil the power over me.  The word says in 1 John 4:18

¹⁸ There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love.

The presence of God's love "displaces" fear.   If I allowed God's love to rule in my heart, trust will abide there as well.  The two go hand in hand.  If I am trusting God why should I fear anything?  I am asking the Lord to change my default button from one of fear to one of trust in Him.  I'm tired of always having fear be my first response to anything.  I also will strive to remember one more thing.  Remember the verse that says "Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour." (1Peter 5:8)? What most people don't realize is lions don't roar when they are getting ready to kill or when they are hunting at all.  It's only when they want to be intimidating.  Our enemy wanders around roaring like a lion, but like a lion, can only intimidate, not touch, those who are under the blood of Christ.  Remember that the next time fear grips your heart and you want to run and hide.  Hide yourself in the Lord for He loves you!

In the meantime I'll be here sweeping up fur balls, emptying litter boxes, getting the leash out for our walk, feeding, watering, brushing....  After I'm done with my kids, I'll start on the animals!

Soaked in His blessings,
Spokenfor

If I have 2 heads do I get charged twice when I get a haircut??

I read a story recently that was a little shocking to me.  It concerned a wee little lamb born way across the world in the region of Georgia ( the one near Russia, not the one near Alabama!).  The mama sheep never let on that anything was different about this pregnancy compared to the other times she had given birth.  Of course, I don't know what I would have expected this mama sheep to do.  It's not like she had regular visits with her sheep ob-gyn.  She didn't go in once a month to listen to the little lamb heartbeat and get her prenatal vitamins.  She didn't paint the nursery stall pink or blue and have a little baby lamb shower with all her other pregnant sheep friends.  Nope, she just went about her day, eating her sheep hay, drinking her sheep water, wandering her sheep fields, listening to her shepherd sing himself to sleep at night.  All the while, a terrible thing was happening inside her little sheep uterus!  The big day arrived!  Time for the long awaited appearance of her little lamb! Ok, so she first got a little anxious, paced around a bit, breathed heavy, grunted, groaned and then attempted to drop the little bugger right on the grass in the back corner of the pasture.  Imagine the surprise of the shepherd when, after coming to her aid, he pulled from her nether regions a wee little lamb with not one head, but two!  That's right, you read it right here first, folks!  Two heads!  I know! Nasty! Right?!  Who knew such a thing could happen?!  It seems this little critter had two mouths, four eyes (no, not glasses! lol) two noses, two tongues, sort of two throats, but only one stomach and only four legs.  Weird, right?  Who would have thought I would ever have reason to write the phrase "only four legs" about a single little lamb!? lol  Stop and think about what kind of life that little sheep could have.  Imagine how confused it could get.  Head A wants to go right while head B would rather go left.  Head A thinks it's time for a nap, but head B wants to go do the frolic think sheep are so famous for.  It would pretty much be a mexican standoff.  No winner there, folks.  I guess little duo-head gets to stand in the middle of the barn yard and argue with itself.  I thought I'd been beside myself  before! lol

Of course, my uniquely twisted brain saw a distinct parallel in my world.  How many times have we explained our lack of ability or willingness to make a decision with "part of me wants to do "A" and part of me wants to do "B""?  I have caught myself having long drawn out discussions with myself as I try to work out some problem or the other.   We see it when we attempt to drop those few pesky pounds that won't let go.  Part of us wants to be thin and healthy and part of us just wants that chocolate cheesecake!  I have seen double mindedness in many parts of my life.  The word of God has something to say on the issue too in James 1:6-8

 ⁶But let him ask in faith, nothing wavering. For he that wavereth is like a wave of the sea driven with the wind and tossed.
 ⁷For let not that man think that he shall receive any thing of the Lord.
 ⁸A double minded man is unstable in all his ways.

Just like little double noggin we talked about earlier, we will find it difficult to make any real progress if we can't make up our mind/minds just where we are headed.  If we spend Sunday walking after the Lord and Monday running after the world, only to turn towards God again on Tuesday and so forth and so on, we won't ever make any real progress.  Jesus has some choice words on being double minded as well in Luke 9:61-62

⁶¹ Still another said, “I will follow you, Lord; but first let me go back and say goodbye to my family.”  ⁶² Jesus replied, “No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for service in the kingdom of God.”

I don't believe the Lord was being unduly harsh with this young man.  I think he saw what was really behind his request.  This gentleman had not really let go of the things of life in the way it was required if you were going to be a follower of Christ in that day.  He was double minded.  Part of him wanted to give his all and follow, but part of him wanted to go back for just one more word with his family.  He had two heads about the issue.   One head wanted to go one way and one head wanted to go the other.  He was unstable.  

I believe being split skulled is an epidemic in the church today.  We are comfortable in church as long as we are not asked to give up what we want or to make any real sacrifices.  We want to hold on to God and His blessings while holding on to what the world can offer us as well.  I'm not picking on anyone, here.  I will be the first to admit I have been living in this trap for far too long.  I have been standing in the middle of the barnyard with one head pointed towards the Lord and the other head pointed towards the manure pile and getting nowhere fast!  It's time to live with abandon!  It's time to shed the second head so many of us sport and run, unhindered towards God!  

I want to be single minded in my pursuit of the Lord.  I may have grown a second head, but I wasn't born with one!  I was born a daughter of the king of kings and I will no longer allow any such deformity to slow me down in my quest to abide in Him.  I challenge you today to take a good look in the mirror.  How many eyes do you see looking back at you?  When you talk/pray do you hear someone, seemingly near by,  prattling along distracting you?  You may find you, also, have a case of multi-brainism!   There's only one thing to do!  Follow what it says in Hebrews 12:1

¹ Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders (like that second head!) and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us,

Run!  Run after Him, but run with focus, with singleness of mind and heart.  Otherwise you may find yourself running in circles!


Just think of all you'll save on haircuts, and hairspray, and hair color, and barretts and.............


Soaked in His blessings,
Spokenfor

Roasted pigs and male pattern baldness

It's spring, finally, and as the old saying goes "a young man's heart turns to love".  Once they are older, and married, the saying changes for most.  It is now more commonly "spring is here and a man's heart turns to lawn".  At least that is the case here in this household.  Our front yard has some really nice grass, what there is of it.  Don't get me wrong, I would say the majority of the yard is covered, I guess, for the most part, more or less.  J spends time putting all sorts of products and potions out in the quest for a healthy lawn.  He has now added seeding the lawn to the list so, hopefully, before long, it won't look like a middle aged man with a receding hairline!  Last Saturday I discovered he was putting lime out on the yard.  (not the small green ones that go so well with lemons)  It seems he was changing the ph balance of the soil to encourage the seed to grow and prosper.  When I actually stopped and listened to him ramble on and on  talk about the process I learned something.  There is a simple way to keep the grass healthy and the weeds at bay.  It all has to do with the soil.  That's where the lime came in.  The grass likes an alkaline soil where the weeds prefer a soil with a little more acid.  Keep the ph balance correct and you won't have to worry about weeds popping up.  If the weeds don't take root, you don't have to pull them up.

I was out in the front yard this afternoon with the Charlie the dog while he contributed to the lawn's acidity level and something occurred to me.  My heart is a lot like this lawn.  (no, it doesn't contain a furry little dog who thinks he's a human!) There are so many things in life that can change the ph balance of the soil of your heart.  The acid of unforgivness, bitterness, self-pity, deceit, anger and so many other things make an ideal place for weeds to crop up in your heart's front yard.  It's not always the big things, though that do the most damage.  Sometimes it's a little thing, a time when we choose not to die to self, but to indulge our flesh in a seemingly innocuous activity.  The word says in 1 Cor 10:23  "All things are lawful, but not all things are profitable. All things are lawful, but not all things edify".  We no longer live under the law, but under grace.  It's no longer considered sin to sit down to a pork sandwich, pork fried rice, sweet and sour pork, pork spareribs, roasted pork tenderloin... uh, you get the picture.  While it's not sin, is it profitable for me if I eat half the pig?  I may desire to consume most of the little piggy but it's my responsibility to control my fleshly desires and keep my stomach under control.  Denying our flesh is one way we heap lime on the soil of our hearts.  I'm not only referring to our stomach.  We must also consider other appetites that don't fall into the category of edifying.  What are we watching on tv? listening to on the radio? Do we find ourselves anxious to tell someone the juicy bit of gossip we heard in the ladies room before service Sunday? Do we find ourselves giving in to the urge to yell at our kids and justify it by telling ourselves "it's their fault, they know I've got PMS"??  These are all times we can choose to change the ph balance.   If we make the soil an uncomfortable place for the weeds of flesh to live we will have less trouble with them later.

There are times when I cry out to God for deliverance from this or that or sometimes the other thing too, and He will deliver, His word promises that, but I believe we have a part.  There are times when we are required to change the ph balance of our hearts first.  If that is not done then it doesn't matter how many times God pulls the weed up it is just going to keep growing back.  I am going to be transparent and admit right here and now there are some weeds in my life whose roots go pretty deep and who are pretty darn comfortable cluttering up my lawn.  In my frantic attempt to shout to the world that I was no longer under the law, I used that very fact as an excuse to no longer control the little weeds of the flesh.  I allowed them to become comfortable.  It's time for a little gardening.  It's time to decide if I'm going to take back my lawn or let it spiral downward into a nasty patch of weeds, thorns and brambles.  It's not an easy process, or maybe I should say it's not a comfortable one.  We must apply the lime of the word, water it with the anointing of the Holy Spirit, and make sure it gets plenty of Son.  Sometimes we don't have to dig the weeds up ourselves, sometimes we must simply change the atmosphere of their environment and they will die out all on their own.  Once they are dead or dying it's an easy thing to just pop them out and thrown them on the fire.  I want to prepare my heart for the master gardener.  I want it to be a place totally dedicated to Him where He can come and enjoy the fruit He so desires.

Stop by sometime, I'll be here.  My house will be the one with the lawn afflicted with male pattern baldness. 

Soaked in His blessings,
Spokenfor