A Tribute To My Mom

Dear Mom,

I read a post of Facebook the other day where a mom was telling her adult kids what she really wanted for Mother's Day.  In short: Time with them.  I agree.  Being a mom myself I feel the exact same way.  But since we're far apart and don't spend as much time together as we both would like as moms, I wanted to take a minute to tell you, and the world just a few of the reasons I'm so thankful that God made you my mom.

#1  Your songs.

Now that I'm a grown up and have spent years pursuing my own walk with the God of the Bible, I realize there are a lot of messages I swallowed growing up that weren't so Biblical.  Some things taught as truth were just misunderstood.  Some were mis-taught.  Enter grace.  And hymns.  No matter what I learned about God and life that wasn't so right growing up, what I learned right I heard in your singing.  When you sang the words, "I need thee every hour..."  you taught me dependence upon the grace found in Christ.  When you cried out in song around the house, "Precious Lord, take my hand, lead me on, help me stand."  You taught me to cry to God and not pout to myself.  When I heard you worship at bedtime, "Amazing grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me..."  You taught me to awe at the salvation found in Jesus.  Your singing planted truth in my soul mom.  And now it has sprouted and grown into it's very own tree, planted by the same streams of water out of which my soul sings with you, "And he walks with me, and he talks with me, and he tells me I am his own.  And the joy we share as we tarry there.  None other, has ever known."



#2 Your brokenness

Mom, honestly I used to wish you weren't broken. I used to wish, with you, we had a neat, tidy, healthy family.  I wanted a yellow house with a picket fence, two happy healthy parents and siblings who got along too.  Who doesn't want that?  But brokenness has come upon us all.  Even those I thought had that picture perfect family.  And it's through the brokenness in your life that I have learned to see God's miraculous way of making beauty out of ashes.  I used to be angry with God for the brokenness I saw everywhere and in my own life.  But the beautiful masterpiece God paints by taking the very cracked up thoughts and emotions, bodies and relationships we all live with everyday and out of them painting a whole new Christ-imaging life makes the beauty of that Norman Rockwell life I had in my head look like a 5 year old's water color.  God has painted Christ-exalting majesty and glory out of your broken life mom.  Christ in you is beautiful!  Through you Christ has shown himself to me as the Great Physician who has come not for the well, but the sick, like me.  Through you, he has made me to know him as the great bearer of burdens.  Because you have turned to Him, time and time again, I have learned to see myself and others as broken people in desperate need of the love of Christ.



#3  Your creativity

Paper dolls cut out of any piece of cardboard or paper on hand.  Marbles and Jax.  Stories that should be written down and printed as captivating children's books.  Biscuits to die for.  Your interest in our lives and your creativity and handiwork drew us as children to you.  Your creative, happy, liveliness was Jesus in you causing the little children to come to him.  And he is still at work in you drawing your grandchildren.  God has given you the gift of touching the hearts of young children mom.  Your love of life and interest in investing in the young souls around you has forever changed the course of many lives for God's glory.



#4 Your diversity

In a small town where everyone was a shade of pale and most people spoke red-neck English, you were a wise woman with a world-wide awareness and a vision for honoring the diversity of God's people in every tongue, tribe and nation.  Before we could even speak, you were hanging cut out magazine images of babies with different skin-tones on the wall next to our crib.  When Cabbage-Patch dolls were all the rage, you bought your white, freckle-faced children black Cabbage-Patch dolls.  When people of darker pigment came into our our town and didn't speak much English, you welcomed them into our home and learned to make tortillas from scratch with them.  In a culture that was ignorant to it's xenophobia, you were planting the truth that in God's world there are peoples of all cultures, pigments and languages.  And that's a beautiful thing!


A Woman To Be Praised!

That's only four reasons out of many for why I thank God every day that he made you my mom!  I celebrate you mom.  I want to pass onto my children the gifts you've given me.  Charm is deceitful, and beauty is vain, but a woman like you mom, who is in awe of Christ Jesus our Lord, is worthy to be praised for generations to come!  May God bless the work of your hands mom!

I love you,

Your Lil' Toad

Chasing Normal?

My sister once told me she believed God appointed to me the hard things I'm walking through because he is using my life to encourage other people to trust and obey him.

I want that, but I also confess I don't.

Part of me just wants a "normal" life with ease. No ongoing marital struggle. No conviction about things that the world around me, even my own family, think I'm being ridiculous about. But that part of me is a silent cancer in my soul and I choose to slay it with truth.

The truth is no one has a normal life. I get to hear lots of peoples' stories as a nurse. When you start talking to people you find out the abnormal things that are in everyone's lives. But the desire to have a normal life comes from something written in me, and in us all, that knows there is a normal. There is a life that is whole and right. There is a life that is good and desirable. There is a life full of pleasantness and pleasure. That life is Christ.

The idea that I should resist or flee the struggles I face to try and find a more "normal" life in another person, or a better income, or more convenience, or a better climate or withdrawing from people and getting back to nature, or whatever... that idea is a lie.  It's a trick.  It's a wild goose chase intended to keep you from facing reality.  It's a wasting of your life.  The reality is we are all messed up people.  We all have to face the wrongs we and others do and the damage it causes in our relationships and in the world.

Without knowing Christ, the abnormal lives we all live have to be explained and managed somehow. Enter religion, atheism, humanism, or any other ism people use to try and manage the mess we all are.  But with Christ, we taste of the normal life we long for.

Oh, taste and see that the Lord is good! Blessed is the man who takes refuge in him! - Psalm 34:8 

The Bible talks about a new man, comparing Christ- the new man- with Adam, the first man, the man we all come from.  Adam and everyone after him live abnormal lives with a longing for normal life.  Christ came into the world to offer us his life. Real life.  Christ's life is given to those who believe him and love him.  As a Christian, I have the very life of the new man, the normal man, living in me.  And whereas before, the first man, the abnormal man, was striving to hold on to some semblance of normalcy, chasing it wherever he caught a glimpse of it, the new man I am knows I have it already.  So I can go through the trials and sufferings I face in life with an open heart and hand.  I can do like Jesus said and let my broken life be used to bring new life.

Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. Whoever loves his life loses it, and whoever hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life. -John 12:24-25.  

That's a very strange thing to say to us abnormal people, holding tight to our lives, trying to self-preserve and keep our lives as normal as possible. But to the Christian, it is the new way, the normal way to live.

Jesus is God in the flesh.  The God Man humbled to dying human cells in an abnormal human family in a world full of the abnormal people damaging each other and the world around them.  He came bringing new life.  A life-giving life.  A life united with the God who made us.  And the way he did it was to die and over come death as the God-Man.  Now his life is in us who believe in him.  And his way is now our way.  We can give our lives away because we know we already have life in Christ.

C.S. Lewis said "Nothing you have not given away will ever truly be yours."

I don't know what Lewis was eluding to.  I haven't read the entirety of Mere Christianity yet.  But he points to the truth that when you have life in Christ, you can deny yourself, you can loose your life, because its yours!  Jesus said:

If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will save it. For what does it profit a man if he gains the whole world and loses or forfeits himself? -Luke 9:23-25

We all want normalcy.  But we all have to deal with an abnormal life.  We'll do so one of two ways- futile attempts at self-preservation and chasing glimpses of ease, comfort and normality.  Or Christ. The normal life I long for I've found in Christ.  Now I can let my difficulties and abnormal realities be opportunities to give away the life that is mine forever.

An Unlikely 23 Years

 Wedding Day- Sept.4, 1993

Connor's birthday- April 1, 2003

During our first separation and pregnancy with Ryland- November 2004

Seeking a new start in Arizona all together- October 2005

 Second separation March 2010

Still together on a desert trail- Spring 2015

Today has been a tough day, emotionally.

Twenty three years ago today I made a vow before God and about 100 family and friends to take James as my husband, to have and to hold from that day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and health, till death do us part.

Those are some serious promises.  Better, worse, richer and poorer, sickness and health have all been part of these 23 years.  Honestly, most of it has been hard.  We weren't a very likely match at 19 and 21.  He from the big city, me from a small town.  His dad a pharmacist, mine a log truck driver.  We met in a child development class, taking pre-reqs for nursing.  He hated it.  I loved it.  He had long hair and torn jeans and loved Journey.  I was on fire for Jesus after having decided to heed the call to follow him a year previous at 16.  He was raised as a Catholic, but more as tradition than devotion and by his teen years religion was not on his radar at all.  He had already been in a very serious relationship and at it's end decided to move to Roseburg, Oregon from Phoenix, Arizona to take his dad up on his offer to pay for college as long as he lived at his house.  I had never had a true boyfriend.  I liked a couple of different boys, but that's about as far as it went.  One guy from my youth group at church was really trying to win me, but I thought of him as a good friend and not a boyfriend or potential husband.  And then I met James.

We had a few conversations during the breaks at our evening child development class at Umpqua Community College.  He teased and asked me to share my chocolate cake and wondered what kind of music I liked.  I thought he was handsome and talked about my favorite Christian artists and invited him to church.  He came.  He met my family, played basketball with my dad and brother, went to the beach and camping with my friends while I worked as a C.N.A. at an Alzheimer's facility, and on Easter Sunday he wrote me a love note.  I would say we started dating after that, but it really wasn't dating.  In fact, I think we only went on maybe one or two "dates" before we were married.  Most of our time together was spent at either my house or his dad's house, church or after work talks.

I was head over heels for James almost immediately after we became an official couple, but because of my convictions as a Christian, my relationship with him between April of '92 and September of '93 was stormy and full of indecision, conviction, guilt and desire.  I knew, after 8 months of hanging out with each other that we did not share the same desires in life, but the desire to be with him and the dream of being married and on my own and having my own family overtook my conviction that we were not heading the same direction in life.  Storming around my dreams, desires and convictions, the emotions of that time made it very hard to discern what I just wrote.  If you were to have asked me then how I felt about James and marrying him, I would have said I loved him and believed we would grow together.  I was naive to say the least.  On Christmas of 1992, the same year I graduated from high school, James proposed to me and I accepted.  On Labor Day of 1993 we were married at the church I grew up in.

In the past 23 years we both have come face to face with the reality that we want different things in life.  Through 2 separations and the birth of 2 sons we're still married.  I'm sure that means something different to him than it means to me.

Over these 23 years I've learned that life is not about me, it's not about my marriage, it's about Christ.  The trials and fires of this unequally bound relationship have caused me to wrestle with God, ask hard questions, face hard answers and no answers, and come to grips with what I really believe.  I believe I can't really know who I am, or why I am or what marriage is, or how relationships work best until I know God in Christ.  I believe marriage is his creation and has little to do with romance and anniversary presents and wedding rings and much to do with displaying how Christ has self-sacrificingly and faithfully loved his people.

I believe happiness in marriage ebbs and flows.  I believe in toughing it out when everyone says you shouldn't stay in a marriage where you're not happy.  Every married person is not happy with their partner at some point.  It's inevitable. We're human.

I met a couple at work the other day who have been married 59 years.  While talking with them about the significance of that, the wife said she didn't believe it was good to stay married if you weren't happy.  I was taken back.  Here was an 80 something year old woman who had endured 59 years with a real man (not a contrived romantic ideal as seen on t.v.) telling me a person who isn't happy shouldn't stay married.  In my surprise I asked, "I bet you're glad you didn't give up on this marriage when you weren't happy somewhere in those 59 years or you wouldn't be sharing with me the achievement of being married this long?"  She conceded and admitted there were unhappy times, but that they were too broke to afford a divorce then.  She was glad of that now.

We've looked divorce in the eye a couple of times in these 23 years,  I'd be lying if I didn't say those eyes were alluring and I still catch a seductive glance from them now and then.  I can't say with pride that I'm a woman of my word and I made a vow and I'm going to keep it.  Nor can I say that I am doing it for the kids or grinning and bearing it.  So what's keeping us together?  I can't speak for James, but for me, it's love.  Real love.  The kind that is happy to make the beloved happy and hurts when the beloved hurts.  The kind that endures brokenness and offense and strives for forgiveness and reconciliation because it wants to be close to the beloved.  I wouldn't know this kind of love were it not for Christ.  I've looked around and have seen a few other examples of "love" in the world.  None compare to the love of Christ.  And his love is in me.  And I love James.  It's that love that binds that vow I made before God through every minute of every year with him like flesh and bone and vessels.  We were James Dougal and Sheila Deane.  And God made us one.  We are bound to each other through this life and it's the love of Christ that binds.

With all that in my heart every day,  I woke up today and faced the hard reality of Sundays:  I love to gather with Christ's local church and worship him together and receive his heralded word and my husband does not.  And, at this point, neither do my kids.  My oldest is more vocal and defiant about it right now.  My youngest goes cause he wants to be with mom.  This is a deep ache in my heart that spurns a constant pleading with God for salvation to come to this house.

So it was an emotional day.  My husband worked in the yard.  Connor metal detected for coins in the yard.  Ryland worked on a school project.   My eyes were heavy with hot tears all day and they spilled out a lot while I sang to Jesus at church and drove between errands alone.  I read a Psalm today that defines what I long for in this 23 year old unlikely marriage and precious family:

Oh magnify the Lord with me, and let us exalt his name together! -Psalm 34:11

Quieted,

Sheila

Lessons from a Monday

I worked a 12 hour shift today.  It was a good day.  Less stressful than the day I wrote about here, but still busy.  A good busy.  Not a I-have-no-idea-what-happened-in-the-past-12-hours busy.  We had a couple of admissions at the end of the shift which made for a very busy end of shift. 4 to 7 PM went by in 5 seconds flat and I accomplished about 20 things in that period of time in an ever-changing order of importance.

After work I drove to my son's club baseball tryouts and listened to the 11 year old version and 44 year old version of The Wallet and Tablet That Was Stolen From the Truck story.  I watched the 13 year old make a couple of great hits (or crush the ball as he would put it) and then drove the 11 year old home so he could be in bed before 10:30.

While I was driving home some small epiphanies were dawning on me:

1. It's so helpful to try and understand another person's point of view.  Trying to explain to a frustrated nursing assistant why I could understand her frustration with patient so-and-so but if she could just try to put herself in patient so-and-so's shoes she might be less frustrated, I realized what a gift it is to be able to be a nurse. A nurse gets patients of all kinds.  Patients are people.  They had moms and dads, whether they knew them or not.  They may or may not have kids.  They had jobs and previous battles with illness.  They may have estranged children and unconventional living circumstances.  They probably have a story behind their rudeness, or impulsivity, or confusion, or fear, or flat affect or foul smell.  Taking the time to listen to people (patients) takes time.  Time away from charting and tasks on the task list.  And that's ok.  Taking time to listen makes a difference in people's lives and makes us better people.  Nurses get to do that in a way most of us don't.  When the cashier is rude at the checkout we don't really have time to ask them about where they're from or if they have kids or why they are where they are.  But nurses do.  In fact, admitting a patient to the hospital can be a great exercise in listening and trying to understand another person.  It's a special opportunity.
2. One should never leave a wallet full of cash ($430 to be exact) and an electronic tablet sitting in an unlocked car at a high school while one drops one's child off at baseball practice.  This a mouth-full of humble pie for one who is a law-enforcement officer.
3. The Christian Church should be like a good nurse:  She seeks the wellness of those who come to her even if it seems to hurt them at times.  She does not condemn the broken ones who come to her for being broken.  She gives of herself to minister to them the orders of the Great Physician for their wholeness.  
4. My thoughts after reading 1 Peter- If you can't love and serve the foul-mouthed, arrogant, perverse, flippant, reckless cranks and jesters around you while refraining from the foulness, arrogance, perverseness, flippancy, complaining and levity they slander you for not joining them in, you haven't really begun to taste Christ in you.  Christ in you is what it means to be a Christian.  And Christ in you will compel you to lay down your life to love and serve others with grace and truth whether they malign you or praise you.  Whether they cherish you or take advantage of you.  Whether they treat you with respect or utterly disregard you. Because you want them to join you in the joy of being brought to God.   I've barely begun to taste and I want more.  It's crazy.

All on a Monday.

"For Christ also suffered once for sins, the righteous for the unrighteous, that he might bring us to God..." 1 Peter 3:18

Quieted,

Sheila

while my kids peruse the game section of the bookstore...

I'm sitting in Barnes and Noble watching a huge thunderstorm dump a ton of rain outside. I sort of wish I had stayed home and sat on my patio now.  If there's any redeeming factor to the unbearably hot summers in the Phoenix valley it's the summer monsoon storms.  I'm captivated by the power in the thunder and lightening and wind and dumping of massive amounts of water in minutes.

It's my third day off from working a long stretch at the hospital.  I made use of the first two days with household chores, errands and grocery shopping.  Today was a Goats Make Soap Co. day.  I finished a custom order of wedding party favors and made four batches of our top seller- Lavender Fields Forever, and a 5 pound batch of our Original soap.

Parenthesis: I think I'm sitting next to an invisible skunk or someone in this store has beat my 13 year old son in the stinky feet department cause there's no person within 20 feet of my position at this table at B&N and I'm dying here!  I may have to make this a short post.  Yuck.

Tomorrow I get to go to church.  I'm like Bono when it comes to church... I still haven't found what I'm looking for,  but I've decided I need to commit myself to loving a bunch of imperfect people in Jesus' name whether they do church the way I think is best or not.  But I do enjoy the time of sanctuary where I can sing and direct my affections and longings toward my God in harmony with the dozens of other broken people like me in the same room.

Starting in September my friend and neighbor are going to begin going to BSF (Bible Study Fellowship) on Tuesdays.  I was involved in a BSF for a couple years before I had children.  It was key in developing my Bible literacy.  I grew spiritually so much during that time.  Feeding on God's word really makes a huge difference!   It's been a dry year or so for me without a church and not in the Word as consistently as I need to be.  I'm really looking forward to just soaking my mind in Bible.

I've decided to go the custom order route with the soap biz.  Sometime tomorrow I'll start working on putting out an email blast and re-ordering the website to reflect the coming changes.  I'll finish the year with the current online store and planned soap shows, but starting in 2017 Goats Make Soap Co. with be custom, handmade, locally sourced goats milk soaps and lotions with options for custom orders and some in stock soaps online.  We will be doing a couple soap shows next year but not a weekly farmers market.

During a conference at work the other day I learned of Circle The City.  I'm very interested.  As soon as I go to part time I plan to investigate more.

I'm reading The Insanity of God right now.  Desiring to "go" as Jesus commanded to make disciples of all nations sounds glorious until your in the face to face horror of humanity's evils and no progress seems to be being made.  Going can mean staying too.  Staying in the inglorious marriage and head to head battles with kids.  Praying for that difficult-to-work-with person and making a point to serve them in some way.  There is a definite draw to leaving the mundane in exchange for the adventure of reaching the unknown and unreached.  But it's not glorious.  Any service can be turned upside down and inside out by pride and illusions of grandeur.  But really following Jesus because you love Him and you want to go where He leads and do what He says is an adventure with sure glory in the end and sure trouble along the way.  Knowing my Redeemer lives and with my eyes I shall see him and when I see him I'll be made like him... free from this sin-philic body.  I long.  He's worth it all.

Quieted,

Sheila

You Liberals think that goats are just sheep from broken homes. - Malcom Bradbury

I just threw that title in cause it's a crazy presidential election season, but I should have titled this post: We're giving up the goats.

Yep, you read correctly.  Our family's 3 plus year adventure with dairy goats is coming to an end.

If only had once sentence to explain why I'm doing this it would be this:

I believe God is leading me to use my time, resources and skills as a nurse to serve others in His name more.

*****I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO SAY!  The above was the beginning of a long, thought-out post about why I've decided to give up the dairy goats in pursuit of more time available for serving God with my life as a nurse... or however He leads.  But, the Mac locked up and I had to force quite and that is all that's left!  I guess I don't need to post a long thought out post.  Deep sigh.

I guess I'll just post pics from our years with the goats and say, I'll miss the cheese and yogurt and milk.  I'll miss the kidding seasons and those floppy-eared personalities.  But I'm looking forward to laying aside the good to pursue the best in what God would lead me to do right now.

FYI:   For my soap customers and friends: I'll still be making soap.  Goats Make Soap Co. will have a new direction and operate a bit differently, but we'll still be making our amazing soaps.

“If we really have too much to do, there are some items on the agenda which God did not put there. Let us submit the list to him and ask him to indicate which items we must delete. There is always time to do the will of God. If we are too busy to do that, we are too busy.”

- Elisabeth Elliot 

Bearing the peculiar mark of majesty

So I'm doing this Bible study with my neighbor. First Peter. We're at that infamous submission part. I've camped out in this book for years. I frequently come back to it because it so directly speaks to me.

It bothers me that I'm bothered by the whole subject of submission because I can clearly see that submission is not a subheading under the subject of being a wife.  It is, as I've heard John Piper put it, the peculiar mark of majesty on all within the kingdom of God.  But it's just my fallen human nature to be bothered by the idea of submission.  No one. No. One. Likes someone else to be in authority over them  No one likes being the one who defers to the authority of another.  We all want to do life our way without anyone telling us otherwise.  That's just our messed-up nature.

Submissiveness is godly.  God-like.  It's not natural or human-like.  Submissiveness is to be the character of all Christians, not just women or wives.  Godly submissiveness is willing, not forced.  The godly submissive person knows where they come from.  They know who they are.  And Whose they are.  They know where they're going.  They know what their inheritance is.  They know all things are theirs in Christ.  And they willingly honor and defer to the authority of those in authority and they willingly humble themselves to lift up others.

Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he had come from God and was going back to God, rose from supper. He laid aside his outer garments, and taking a towel, tied it around his waist. Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples' feet and to wipe them with the towel that was wrapped around him...  "If I then, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another's feet. For I have given you an example, that you also should do just as I have done to you. Truly, truly, I say to you, a servant is not greater than his master, nor is a messenger greater than the one who sent him. If you know these things, blessed are you if you do them." - John 13:3-5, 14-17

Because all Christians are called to a Christ-like submissiveness in the way they relate to authority and to each other there is manifestly different kinds of submission.  Those who submit to persons in authority have one kind.  Those (even in positions of authority) who submit themselves to others in various situations have another kind.  But all kinds are willing, coming from a person who knows they are a child of the Living God.  They are not weak, doormats with no will or choice.  They are the wealthiest, most powerful of all because their Father is the Creator of the universe and works ALL things for their good and His glory.  No person in a position of authority over them has any power other than what their Father has ok'd.

The person who bears the God-like, peculiar mark of majesty can look the most powerful and the most harsh and the most wealthy person in the face and face any response or consequence they may impose on their life without any fear.

Quieted,

Sheila

What do you do when you don't have her life?

Like I said, a reset happened last week. A turning around.  Sometimes you have to go back to where you started.  Do the things you did at first to rekindle the smoldering flame.  And thank God He doesn't just put it out. 

I spilled messy feelings out to the Music Man yesterday.  I'm sure it all sounded worse than a thirteen year old's first blows on a saxophone.  Probably more like clanging symbols.  I had to get it out... it was festering in me.  "Something's got to change!"  I said.  "I can't keep going like this!"

She's right.  I don't get to make him love me like I want to be loved.  I don't get to make him listen or laugh or get it or just hold me.  I don't get to make my life the life I thought I'd have.  

I read her grace-writings frequently, and today's seemed to be the vessel through which He said, "I know you.  Let me love you the way I deem best."

I had already been thinking about it since I clamored out my noisy thoughts and feelings yesterday.  Ever since he looked at me and I'm sure he was thinking, "She'll never change,"  while I was looking at him realizing I had always come to him expecting him to change.  I realized I have wandered off.  I've got to return to that place where I fed on truth and grace and was infused with enthusiasm in serving my Lord.

So how can I serve Him when I don't have that life I dreamed of?

I've probably read every Christian wife-help book out there.  The Excellent Wife.  The Power of a Praying Wife.  Created to be His Helpmeet.  Feminine Appeal.  And probably some others I don't remember right now.  I've read these and have always been stumped as to how to take that mold and force my life into it.

I work full-time.  I have children in public school.  My music man and I are marching to different drummers.  The T.V. is on more than I want.  The dinner table is crank-your-neck-to-the-side-to-see-what's-on-T.V.-and-shove-the-food-in-your-face-as-fast-as-you-can time. There is no ministering to others coming out of this house, nor is there inviting others in.  There's too much YouTube and Internet browsing and video games.  There's a hiding to practice spiritual disciplines.  And there's a murmuring of hymns, lest they be sung out loud and call attention to differing drum beats... just to name some of my top I-don't-have-a-life-that-fits-into-the-Christian-household's-mold things.  And it's not like I can just busy myself and children with nature... we live in a 80 by 100 foot block walled square.  And the view out the window is shades of brown concrete and stucco.  Our history is scarred from separations and near divorces.  The hurt keeps coming back.  Again.  And again.  So how do I do this?  How do I serve Him in THIS life?

The answer is so obvious.  So right in front of me.  So me.  Me and my closed fist.  Me and my tight grip.  Me and my trying to force it.

If I want to gain my life I'm gonna have to open my grip on this one and let go.  That's the only way to follow Jesus no matter you're circumstances.  The only one who I can squeeze into the mold of scripture is me.

"Don't be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind." -Romans 12:2

Maybe you don't have a dream life.  Maybe you live in circumstances you wish were different.  Like Ann said, we don't get to write our stories.  But we do get to take what we've been given and make the ending a giving.  A giving of thanks.

I went back and read some of those words I wrote years ago when I was thinking on hope-filled truth and not the devastation.  I am ashamed at how far my heart has wondered away from my house of bread in my famine.  Instead of holding my ground and trusting, because He always provides, instead I let the way all the fish mindlessly floating downstream think become the way I think.  Rights.  Self-Exaltation.  Rights.  Self-Preservation.  Rights.  Self-Pleasing.  Rights.  Self-Comfort.  Rights.  Self-Esteem.  Rights.  This is the beat of the current that I stopped swimming against in my mind. I let myself drift in its steady flow towards a dead sea.  I was taking on D.H. Lawrence's poisonous motto, "with should and ought I shall have nothing to do!"

But He's got my attention.  He's called me back.  I've heard again how He's provided, as He always does, for His own.  I've returned to His table.  I've eaten of His bread.

You don't get to change anyone Sheila.  You just get to be changed. 

"What if God didn't design marriage to be "easier"?  What if God had an end in mind that went beyond our happiness, our comfort, and our desire to be infatuated and happy as if the world were a perfect place?  What if God designed marriage to make us holy  more than to make us happy?  What if, as de Sales hints, we are to accept the 'bitter juice' because out of it we may learn to draw the resources we need with which to make the 'honey of a holy life'?" - Sacred Marriage by Gary Thomas

55. my music man encouraging entrepreneurship
56. the orange sunset
57. the promise to use my mess to mold me into the image of the Son

Quieted,

Sheila

My declaration TODAY!

I'm taking my sons by the hand and I am deciding to follow YOU Jesus today! Lead me!

So glad He found me ,

Isaiah 51:3