Confetti Post

Much to fill the day and by the time I sit down to blog my brain goes into neutral and I fall asleep in minutes.

Mid afternoon isn't my usual time to take a seat and write out my sojourning thoughts here, but the kids are sitting down to do worksheets from the reading comprehension and math workbooks I bought them last week to prepare them for school on Monday.  So now's a good a time as any.

Where to start...

There's No Place Like Home

I was showering in our make-shift shower- which is literally standing room only as it's only the circumference of a child's hoola hoop- feeling very much like the stance I was in in the place that is usually relaxing to me is exactly how I feel my life is in general right now: no place to relax.  Not exactly something to complain about, nevertheless it is a real stress that wears on you.  As I was standing there, the Holy Spirit knowing all my complaints and searching my anxious thoughts, that still, small voice lifted:

The Son of Man has no place to lay his head.

Mmmm.  Instant comfort.  Instant peace.  Instant rest in a vertical, uncomfortable place.

Home is a dust filled, every-corner-cluttered, tension-filled, labor-intensive place.   Work is a high-risk learning, government-regulated, magnifying-glass-to-your-every-move place.  Church is a battle to get to.  Relationships between the grown-ups are distant, tense... spiritually mismatched.  Right now parenting feels like refereeing a boxing match and facing a judge dressed in 10 year old's clothes.  My own mind is a battle ground.  The fight for faith and the slaying of sin and lies is a constant war.  I'm tired.  I look for a place to rest.  And I look up for that place.  And I realize all this is keeping me from finding here any real home.  I really, truly only find rest in the Holy Spirit's ministry to me and through me; as he teaches me of Jesus and conforms me to his image everyday, and as I open the Word, in which I find all my hope in the promises of God.

He will make all things new.

He blazed the trail of no place to lay his head.

He authored my faith.  He'll finish it.

He is my comfort.  He is my rest.  He is my home.


I'm Just the Farmer.  But I Am a Farmer.


"Oh yeah, well what if I don't want to be a Christian?!" the angry boy bit back at the answer given to the question he had regarding his correction.

"Well I believe dad!"  he shouts as he stomps off feeling successful at taking sides in a family where there are sides, and there should only be one side.

This constant opposition is... constant.  This struggle, this teaching, hearing arguments, correcting, disciplining, comforting, enduring rejection, choosing the unpopular best... it's daily; moment by moment, and I'm tired.

But it's good. It's a constant reminder to me that I can't make the seed come to life.  I can only plant and water and pull weeds and protect from gophers.  But I can't make it grow.  I can't give life, I can only bear it and train it.

Right now there's a tight reign on the most defiant plant.  It wants to grow wild.  It wants to grow sideways and its full of thorns, but with God it has the potential for great beauty and fruit.

I can't just give up and look up and say, "It's all on you God.  Only you can make it grow."  But I can keep doing my part as the farmer and train this wild shoot and look up in faith and say, "Apart from You I can do nothing Lord.  Unless the Lord builds the house, they labor in vain who build it.  The Lord gives children.  You will not let your word return void.  But you will prosper it for your purposes."

Life this side of heaven is like Saul chasing David.  We are called kings and priests... children of the King.  But we don't get to reign yet.  Instead we are constantly opposed from within and without.

One is not more important than the other.  I need to have the Word and a life that backs it up and lives it out.  I can't just teach Bible stories and quote scriptures.  And I can't just be a nice person and a loving mom and wife.  I have to have both.  A farmer can be the nicest guy in the world but if he doesn't plant a seed he won't have a harvest.  A man who plants seeds but doesn't tend the soil and labor to care tenderly for the plant, to provide it what it needs, what is best, to give it warms and water and good soil... that farmer won't have a harvest either.

This means a lot to me.  It's a much needed reminder:  I am where He has me.  This is my work in His field.

 Quieted,

Sheila

Oh for Stick-to-itiveness and Courage

There's a paragraph in A Long Obedience In The Same Direction by Eugene Peterson (which I have been away from for awhile, and came back to yesterday) where he talks about the not-so-fancy word: stick-to-it-iveness. He says his mom used to scold him for not possessing stick-to-itevness. He would leave various unfinished endeavors laying around and this drew his mother's reproof.

He and I share the same flaw.  I lack stick-to-itveness.  I would rather do sprints any day than run long distances.  And I have lots of what I think are great ideas; some that get started with gusto but soon stumble to a snail's pace or get abandoned altogether.  My blogs, artisan mayo, paleo meals, crocheting projects, jewelry making projects, exercise plans and many others are some such evidences of my lack of endurance and focus.  Spiritually, I fight with the power Christ supplies to stay on task and continue in my long obedience in the same direction by faith.  So when I press on in my marriage, in teaching my kids the gospel, in stretching to reach others, in saturating myself in the Word, in praying, in keeping my focus on Christ, in trusting in the unfailing promises of God, it's purely by the grace of God!

I purchased some books I'm very excited about.  God's Names by Sally Michael is one of them.  I started into it yesterday with the boys.  Tonight we did Elohim.  It brought a freshness to the discussion of God.  It provoked thought in them about the nature of God as our Creator.  I LOVE it!  Can't wait to get into it more.

Another is the Proverbs Journible from the Journible 17:18 Series.  I think it will be what I'll use to bring to fruition the idea I had for my other blog.  I'm really excited about it too... both for me and my boys.

I am not a risk taker.  I like safe.  I like stable.  I like security and comfort.  This is a problem for a Christian, and yet, even as I say that, it is the "not" that God calls "is".

For consider your calling, brothers: not many of you were wise according to worldly standards, not many were powerful, not many were of noble birth.But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong;God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are,so that no human being might boast in the presence of God.- 1 Corinthians 1:26-29

Being a Christian, I mean a real, Christ-lives-in-me woman, is not safe, and then again it's the most secure and safe of all.  It really depends on which eyes I look at my life with.  With my self-preserving, fallen eyes, being a Christian is dangerous and too risky.  With my fixed-on-Jesus-born-anew eyes, being a Christian is the most sure, guaranteed security and safety there is!

Oh that I would fix my eyes on Jesus, the Author and Finisher of my faith, and look straight past the opposition that will come, the suffering that is going to occur, the rejection that hurts, the questions I can't answer, the name-calling that stabs, to the joy set before me!

Oh to stand in the same room with evil, and the missed-the-marked-ness that holds up its protesting sign and brazen face, and lies, and stand.  Calmly.  Confidently.  Humbly.  Lovingly.  Willing to suffer.  Shining light.  Bringing truth.  Looking up.  Giving grace.  Showing mercy.  I'm ashamed that I would rather hide from it all.  Oh let me stand in the room with the hard things that don't like the answer the Savior gives and speak the truth in love with humility!  Give me grace to be courageous and bold and humble with happiness!

 Quieted,

Sheila

Got power?

Committing Colossians to my heart, this struck me:

...being strengthened with all power according to His glorious might so that you may have great endurance and patience, and giving joyful thanks to the Father... Colossians 1:11-12a

We Christ-clinging ones, we have heard and believed and desire to live a life worthy of the Lord, though we know we will never live a life worthy of Him.  We have become fruit-bearers by His Spirit and have begun to be filled with wisdom and understanding and are being strengthened so that we may...

Have the best family we can?
Have a happy marriage?
Have obedient children?
Have a successful career?
Be financially secure?
Have a successful ministry?
Be healthy and happy?

No! Oh how selfish I am even with His grace!

Oh how I have missed the boat so many times.  So many times my thoughts begin to drown in a sea of contempt due to all the expectations I unknowingly had when the gospel-boat, the Ark of Christ came to me.  I'm so thankful He is restoring me, despite my proud ear-lopping reactions to His will to take up my cross and follow Him.  I'm so thankful He still says, "Feed my sheep."  I hang my head in shame, but he lifts my head and talks of love and what His power in me is for.  Three things.

Endurance.
Patience.
Joyful-Thanksgiving.

That Holy-Spirit power is not for what I think it may be for.  He's here in me so I can endure the loss of the very things I mistakenly thought He was going to give me. 

Will I endure?  Only with His glorious power. 

Will I be patient?  Only with the strength of His might. 

Will I give Joyful-Thanks?  Only if I see what His power in me is really for.  And when I see it; when I see that Christ-like endurance press through my depraved flesh; when I see the godly bend-down-to-be-the-servant like my Servant King patience take it's knee-stand in me, bearing with another fallen Imago Dei one, then I will be gushing with joyful thanksgiving. 

For there's really nothing else this redeemed one desires this side of heaven than to be redeemed, to glorify Him, to be a reflector of His grace to another.

Quieted,

Sheila

Pressing on

 (A frittata I made this week)



This has been a long week.  Back to getting up at five.  That's actually about the only thing I went back to this week.  I didn't go back to eating the same way I've been eating.  I didn't go back to not exercising consistently.  I didn't go back to Worn.  They weren't really new year's resolutions.  It just happened that I got fed up with how my mind and body were feeling at about the time the 1st day of 2013 got here. 


So I'm pressing in and pressing on.

I bought three new books on my kindle.  I am about a third of the way through If God is Good: Faith in the Midst of Suffering and Evil by Randy Alcorn.  Excellent.  Challenging. A Need-to-Read.   I purchased It Starts With Food by Melissa and Dallas Hartwig and have read the first four chapters and used several recipes already.  I also purchased A Long Obedience In The Same Direction: Discipleship In An Instant Society by Eugene Peterson.  I haven't begun that one yet, but I'd like to ask the ladies at church if they'd like to go through this book with me sometime in the near future.

I started teaching the second grade Sunday School class at church. I take it as a great privilege and responsibility teaching God's word to children.  I intend this to be my focus as a seed-planter in God's Kingdom for the year ahead. But I would still love to get together with the women of Pathway and I think (just by looking through it) that the book by Eugene Peterson might serve as a good way to do that.

Today was the 10th day of this Whole30 Challenge that I've embarked on, with hopes of feeling better and stronger... being healthier.  Basically its eat as much vegetables, meat, eggs and fruit as you want.  No grains.  No dairy.  No sugar.  No artificial anything.  Nothing in a shiny package or box (except Lara bars which I have discovered is God's candy bar- made of dates, cashews and coconut flakes). The first three days without sugar I felt like I had a bowling ball the weight of Texas for a head, but now I feel just fine.  I mean, I wouldn't say a miracle has occurred in 10 days or that I'm full of energy and strong as an ox, but I would say I can definitely see a good difference.  No bloated belly.  No somebody-just-unplugged-my-energy-source-and-I-have-to-lay-down-and-close-my-eyes-right-now-at-4pm.  No cravings (which surprises me).  I think it's all the good food I have been eating that is keeping the craving for the sweets I haven't been eating at bay.  If I was subsisting on chicken breasts and carrot sticks I'm sure I'd be massively craving. 

I've found some really yummy recipes and made up some pretty tasty ones of my own.  You definitely can't eat this fresh and well without good planning, especially while working full time.  There's no room for, "I'm in a rush I'll swing by Chik-Fil-A."  If I've craved anything, its been chocolate, cream and sugar in my coffee, and Chik-Fil-A nuggets, fries and lemonade. 

I guess the 30 days is just a time period to form a new habit and sort-of a time to "reset" your body's diet.

I'll post recipes and pics later. 

I went back to the gym this week because I need to.  I'm not a Crossfitter.  I'm not a competitive athlete... I'm not even an athlete.  I exercise for the same reason I brush my teeth.  And if I don't go to the gym I'll find something else to fill the time and before I know it I haven't exercised in a month.  I don't know if it's all in my head or if this Whole30 diet is having an actual effect, but I did 6 sets of 10 repetitions of strict push ups without having to go to my knees this week.  Last month, when I did push ups last, I couldn't do more than 5 strict push ups without going to my knees. 

But, it's only been a week.  Now to press on for a disciplined life.  I tend to start things with gusto, with sprints, and give-up after the first mile.  Consistency is not my strength.  God has been forming long-suffering in me.  Patience.  Endurance. He seems to be calling me to press forward.  His call is not to sprint, but for a long-obedience in the same direction.

Quieted,

Sheila