The price has been paid

I saw this sign at the gas station a couple of weeks ago, and I had to laugh. (Which was odd, since pumping gas rarely puts me in a laughing mood!) Because, yes, my gym membership probably has filed a missing persons report.

I know. I KNOW. Due to some changes in my life circumstances of late, I've not made it into the gym since, oh, before Christmas. My best intentions at schedule change have failed miserably, and I'm left with the overriding guilt that I've turned into one of those people, who pay for a membership to a gym which they never use.

But...

Yesterday, as I was driving around town, I passed the gym of which I am a member. And a thought occurred to me: the price has already been paid.

It doesn't matter that I haven't been through those doors in four months. I could, right now, scan my key and have full access to all the benefits of membership.

Because every month, they're still deducting $15 from my checking account. The price has already been paid.

And then, another thought occurred to me: that's the way salvation is. It doesn't matter who you are, where you've been, or what you've been doing that you haven't "walked through the door." The price has already been paid.

It doesn't matter if you walked through the doors of the church a long time ago and never came back, or you keep "meaning to go" one Sunday but don't.The price has already been paid.

Any time. Any day. Any where. You can "scan your card" - accept His offer of forgiveness - and receive access to all the benefits of "membership."

He doesn't care what's kept us away - He just knows how much better our lives will be once we take receive Him.

What a lovely thought for Easter!

"It was not a haphazard event, or a secondary scheme, but it was the plan of the Lord to redeem" - The Winans

Dear God,

Thank you that all it took to get me going this morning was a cup of coffee and some of your Word, and not a bucket full of pills.

Thank you that I'm ambulatory enough to take care of my home and that the work isn't overwhelming.

Thank you that while our cash flow might not have been ideal this week, You supplied all of our needs and gave us wisdom to use what resources we did have.

Thank you that I need to be two places at once today, but that they're joyous occasions like a dance recital and a wedding, and not two funerals.

Thank you that my family is healthy and well fed, and that we have more "stuff" than we actually even need.

And thank you for the realization that, as I cleaned up the nearly WHOLE BOTTLE of laundry detergent that I spilled this morning, that I probably won't need to add any to the next load of towels I do - so not all is lost.

Thank you for little reminders that you always have us held safely in the palm of your hand, and help me to see whatever I encounter today through your eyes.

Amen.

If Valerie can come back to Blogland, guess I can too.

When last we met, Anna Marie was surprising us all with her sudden interest in wearing things that FIT and did not involve baggy jeans and one-size-too-big T-shirts.

There's a little of that still going on - she wore a dress to school yesterday - but there's something much deeper going on in my life than that.

On Easter, our church started this study called the One Month to Live challenge.

And what a challenge it is.

The premise is this: if you had just one month to live, what would you do differently? We each had the opportunity to purchase the book of the same name for a discounted price, which has 30 days worth of chapters in it. (Thankfully, the chapters are only about five pages long!) Each week, our pastor's sermon takes its theme from the upcoming week's readings: Love Completely, Learn Humbly, etc. Then, each day we read a short chapter comparing life to something - a hurricane, or a roller coaster, or GPS.

Our pastor joined Facebook about this time, and he posts his thoughts on the chapter each day. We can then discuss them in the comments.

It's very, very, practical stuff. And very thought-provoking.

We're also wearing some nifty green wristbands to remind us of the challenge. Several people have commented that they've had "green wristband moments," where they've stopped what they were "busy" doing (usually watching TV, or, I don't know, maybe Farmville) and spent quality time with their families.

Because really, no offense to the Farmville folks, but if you only had a month to live, would you want to spend it feeding imaginary farm animals? Or would you want your kids to remember you spent time with them?

We're a little over halfway through the book, and each day I'm made more aware of how I'm spending the most precious commodity I have: my time.

So, I'll leave you with this challenge today: if you had just one month to live, what would you change?

Donut be sad!

Just when I was lamenting to myself that I didn't have anything to blog about, this happens.

It all started when I came home last night, and Jason said, "Let's go get some chicken."

Now, you have to understand - our local KFC has a reputation for not actually having any chicken. And last night, they did not disappoint.

First, Anna Marie ordered the popcorn chicken.

"That will be three-and-a-half minutes, because we have to cook it," she said.

Fine. That wasn't so bad. Then I looked at the pitiful amount of grilled chicken under the heat lamp, and asked about the prospects for, say, some white meat.

"We don't have any," she said. Would they have some coming in a few minutes? No - it would be 20, she said, which is how long it takes to grill.

Which means they hadn't even started cooking any, and it was the dinner rush.

I selected a honey barbeque sandwich, Jason asked for some chicken strips, and we ate.

(Half an hour later, when we left, there was STILL no new grilled chicken, meaning that they hadn't started any even after we'd asked for it.)

Fine. We still had plenty of time to make it to church. Or so we thought.

Thanks to the American Recovery and Reinvestment Act, it took us 45 minutes to go 15 miles. We were already late for church at that point, but I didn't think we'd be too late.

Once again, I was wrong.

Since Jason had discovered at KFC that he'd forgotten his wallet, I was driving. And just south of our exit, I heard a terrible noise. I stopped the car, and Jason got out to investigate.

Yes, from the picture at the top of this post, you can gather that we'd blown a tire. No problem, I thought, but I was about to be wrong YET AGAIN.

After Jason put the "donut" spare on, he got back into the car and said, "We aren't going anywhere."

Why? Because our spare was flat too, of course! Lovely!

I did what any girl would do in my position. I called my dad. He came and brought a small air compressor to air up the spare, and we started home.

Of course, by this point, church was over. A wasted trip! Or was it…

God taught me a lesson, which I wish He could've gotten though to me without the whole flat-tire incident.

I realized when I got home that I hadn't really freaked out. Why? Because I knew Jason was with us, and he could change a tire. If I had tried to do it myself, it would've been a great big EPIC FAIL because I have neither the expertise, nor the physical strength, to change a tire. But Jason? He had both.

I would've been an idiot to try to push him out of the way and do it myself.

(Yes, my dad did teach me to change a tire before I started driving, but that was a LONG time ago, and I haven't really had to use that skill. Ever. And have you ever tried to break free a lug nut that was put on with an air wrench? I have. Not fun.)

Why can't I seem to trust God like I do my husband? Why can't I realize that when I try to fix my problems myself, when I don't really have the means to do so, that I royally mess things up.

I'm thankful that I wasn't alone, that we're experiencing unseasonably cool weather, that it was daylight, and that it was not raining. I'm thankful that the flat was on the passenger's side, so Jason wasn't against the interstate traffic.

(And I'm really thankful that Anna Marie had brought her Game Boy, so she barely noticed the hour we sat there slip by.)

So that's why I "Donut be sad" (Get it? Do not, and that tire is called a donut? I slay me!) about this situation. I'm forcing myself to play the "glad game" and look on the bright side, and see how blessed we really are.

And I'm planning on sending the bill for tire repair to the federal government, since I'm blaming the whole mess on them.

On being blessed - and being a blessing

I have about eleventy-million blog posts rattling around in my head right now, but for the moment I'll just regale you with one.

Yesterday, I had the opportunity to do something that, when I signed up for it, seemed to be no big deal.

However, as I was doing it, and afterwards, I was struck with the enormity of it all.

I read to four kindergarteners.

Simple, I know. I signed up with the PTO, went to the school at my appointed time, picked four books out, and read to four little kids out in the hallway, one by one.

It was two hours out of my life that affected the rest of my day, and continues to do so.

It was pretty obvious that these kids were chosen to be read to because they need a little extra help in that department. Know how educators are always telling us to read to our kids, from the time they're babies? I don't know if these kids parents were doing that or not. So, that's where I came in. I pulled the kids out of class to give them a little one-on-one reading time, time which the teacher can't spare.

I had picked pretty rudimentary books, most of them at a preschool level. Some of these kids couldn't even read me the "sight words" - and because I had a kid in this school as a kindergartener last year, I know they should be able to read things like "my," "she," and "the" by now.

This isn't a judgment on the kids - it's just a fact. They aren't very fluent readers, but that's why I (and the other volunteers) are there - to give them a little extra help.

And those kids told me some things that revealed a lot about their situations at home, and maybe why they might not be getting that reading practice outside the classroom.

One of the books we read was about going to the beach. I asked the girl if she'd ever been to the beach, and she said she had, with her father - when he lived in Virginia. He now lives in Kentucky, she said.

We live in Mississippi - ergo, her parents aren't together.

Don't take this as a stereotype, but I'm going to guess that her mom is trying to put food on the table (an admirable quest) and may not have as much time as she'd like for reading with her daughter.

Like I said - not a judgment, just an observation.

Another book was about a girl who liked making messes. I asked this student (different from the beach girl) if she kept her room neat, and she said she didn't have a room - she sleeps with her mom.

As does her baby sister.

Y'all, in all Anna Marie's life, she's never had to share so much as a room - even when we had to live with my parents - never mind having to share a bed. My girl doesn't know how blessed she is.

The kindergartener told me later that her mom was going to school, but she didn't know what she was going to be when she finished.

Again, this is admirable - and I told the girl that her mom was doing a good thing by trying to get an education - but it doesn't leave much time for extra reading with your kid.

Most of the time, we focus on unfit parents as the ones whose kids aren't up to par in school - but these two families show that sometimes it's just life's circumstances that don't permit the one-on-one learning time.

As I was leaving yesterday, I stuck my head into the room of one of our town's aldermen, who happens to be a speech therapist at the school. She thanked me for volunteering with these kids.

And then it hit me - Anna Marie had come home the day before with a certificate (and a coupon for a Personal Pan Pizza) for joining the 80 point Accelerated Reader club. That is a HUGE accomplishment for a first grader - and probably due to the number of chapter books she reads, which are worth more points.

I realized I was so blessed that, for all the other struggles I've had with my strong-willed daughter, academics had not been one of them. I don't have to beg her to read - many nights I have to take the books away from her so she'll go to sleep. And many mornings, she gets up earlier than she needs to and I have to take them away from her again so she can get ready for school.

This isn't bragging on myself - I didn't do anything special to get her to this point. I read to her since she was a baby, yes, but her intelligence and love for learning is a gift from God.

So, as I was talking in the speech room, I realized why I needed to do this - I was blessed, so I needed to be a blessing to someone else.

In fact, here is what Genesis 12:2 says about what some folks call "paying it forward:"

2 "I will make you into a great nation
and I will bless you;
I will make your name great,
and you will be a blessing.

Our pastor covered this text a few weeks ago, and he said that the original language commands us to be a blessing - to do good to others.

I thought I was volunteering because the PTO said they needed help - but I was really doing it in obedience to God's Word.

How can I not? How can I sit with my daughter, in her own room in her own bed surrounded by so many books that I passed over two dozen down to a coworker's daughter and mine hasn't even noticed they were gone - and not do what I can to help these other kids?

Maybe their parents aren't able to read to them, because of time or other obligations. Lord knows, if I had more than one kid I wouldn't have been able to spend the time that I do with Anna Marie. Maybe they are so burdened down with life's concerns that reading a bedtime story is the last thing on their to-do list.

Or maybe they are taking the time to help their kids with their homework, and they just need an extra set of hands.

Whatever the reason, I walked out of that school much different than when I'd walked in: excited about the opportunity to serve these kids and their parents.

The opportunity to be a blessing.

Huh? What's that?

You'll have to excuse my less-than-stellar hearing this morning.

You see, the suite we were blessed with - that awesome, awesome suite - was perfectly level with a bank of speakers.

It was loud peoples. Really, really loud.

The evening couldn't have gone better.

I have learned that when I try to figure out and plan things, they often go awry. But when God works them out - well, He's much better at this stuff than I am.

This has been a hard week, because on top of the usual meetings, I've been sick, and I've spent the better part of three days getting my Better Newspaper Contest entries prepared.

Long story short, I was coming up a bit behind in my regular work.

When I got back from lunch yesterday (I'd spent the first half of the day finishing up the BNC) I had a note that said I was to expect an article that afternoon from one of our writers (which, incidentally, we'd been waiting on for TWO WEEKS ALREADY). That article was going to save my sick/busy/TobyMac lovin' behind.

God's perfect timing!

After much prayer, nail-biting, and anxious emailing, the article came in just in time to allow me to leave early and get ready for the concert.

Just before the article came in, I got this text message:

Suite 12

Do you know what that meant? That meant that Jason and I were being invited to sit in the suite with the folks from our church who had the hookup!

I had heard about the suite, but I figured it was going to be filled with teens and young adults and old fogeys with us were in with the flotsam and jetsam of the general population.

I text back: For real?

Because that's my answer for anything that I can't believe - for real?

(I actually said that, out loud, at a board meeting I was covering recently. For real.)

The answer came: The suite holds 18. With you guys, we should have 18.

As our music pastor is wont to say: SWEET!

Amanda got to my house to watch Anna Marie just in time for Jason to take me to a proper, sit-down dinner - at Zaxby's. I had been afraid we'd have to drive through somewhere, but, like I said - just in time.

We got finished at Zaxby's and got gas, and got to the Civic Center just in time that we didn't have to wait but a few minutes in the bitterly cold wind.

The door we went in? Right next to Suite 12!

Sweet!

We closed the glass doors at the front of the sweet suite, and that deadened the noise just enough to make it bearable. Jason and I spent the majority of the concert behind those doors, half watching the show, half hanging out with our friends.

It was perfect.

And - and! Our Pastor Bob had gone backstage before the show to pray with the other pastors, and brought Brandon Heath back with him! Pastor Bob's next-door-neighbor, who was with us, is a HUGE fan, and he got to have his picture taken with him!

Sweet!

When Brandon Heath and TobyMac did their sets (like, the very end of the evening) we did to out into the seating section of the suite. Of course, TobyMac was the very last act, and the longest set, and also, I think, the loudest.

Jason ended up going back behind the doors, and I went back there occasionally to give my poor eardrums a rest, but the remainder of the set - I was out there, singing along and dancing like some 15-year-old.

It was awesome!

Our sweet suite was right by the door, which was close to where we'd parked, so we didn't have to wait for the crush of 10,000 teens to leave and we got out of the parking lot before the major traffic started.

We old fogeys were back home by 11 p.m.

Unfortunately, my ears were ringing, making it pretty difficult to sleep. But, it was totally worth it!

I have learned that not only does God work things out better than I could have, He also provides blessings that I don't deserve and certainly couldn't afford. The suite was comped to Pastor Bob because he's reserved a suite for a Gaither concert next month. It made the Christmas present from Jason - money for the tickets - all the better.

I was so touched that we were considered by our friends to share in their blessing, and words can't describe how grateful I was to them for the honor. There were lots of other folks they could've invited, but they chose us.

God is good, TobyMac is loud, and my ears are ringing.

Sweet.

What is God hiding?

A few weeks ago, our pastor preached a sermon called "What is God hiding?"

The gist of it was the same as one of my college professors had said: if God told you ahead of time what you'd be doing (and facing) in the future, you'd run far, far away.

Instead, He lets us be prepared, little by little, for what He has for us to do - and the challenges life hands us.

Think about all the things that have happened in 2008. If I'd known at the beginning of the year that I'd lose two uncles in December, I'd have spent the whole year dreading that month.

If I'd known that Jason was going to take over operations of the cafeteria during the summer, I'd have been freaked out WAY longer than I already was.

How would I have handled knowing that my dad was going to suffer a stroke in January, and then all of the fallout from that - physical, emotional, and financial?

Who could have known that in February our church would close down, and we'd find ourselves finding a new place to worship? If you'd have told me last New Years Eve that I'd have spent this New Year's Eve playing Wii with my Sunday School class, I would not have believed it.

2008 was the year that I covered my first murder trial, that Anna Marie got baptized and learned to tie her shoe, and that a raccoon took up residence in my attic.

Life is unexpected, and as we enter this new year, I can't wait to see what God is hiding - the good and the bad. We can't have the good without the bad, as the saying goes.

And I'm glad to know that I'll have all of you out there in Blogland as we watch this year unfold together.

Just when you think one more interruption is going to make your head explode

Ever have one of those kinds of days?

The kind when you have something REALLY important and REALLY pressing to get finished, and you're on a deadline, but yet the whole world is calling/emailing/visiting you?

You know you have.

I had one of those today.

I had an early meeting to cover, and then a staff meeting waiting on me when I got back to the office. Afterward, I worked for about two hours on the special edition that was due today before stopping for lunch.

An hour after I got back for lunch, it was time to go get Anna Marie from school.

(Sidebar: I discovered today that true terror is a six-year-old getting into your car, and saying, through clenched teeth, "I really, REALLY have to go to the bathroom" when you're faced with the prospect of another 10 minutes of school traffic.)

(Panic ensued. Luckily, an accident did not, as I stopped at our county courthouse on the way back to the office and whisked her to the bathroom.)

(But I digress.)

Of course, it's pretty difficult to work when you've got that six-year-old asking you to sharpen her pencil so she can do her homework, when she can darn well sharpen that pencil herself.

(It's also difficult to work when the folks from whom you requested information nearly a week and a half ago aren't giving it up. But I digress again.)

Phone call after phone call. Email after email. I thought I was never going to get done.

When I finally did get up from my desk for a minute, to retrieve some papers from the printer, there stood one of my Weight Watchers buddies! She and I are neck-in-neck to see who can get to 100 lbs. lost first. I think we're tied right now.

I'd seen her last week on my way out, as she was on her way in, and we talked about how stressful our lives had become lately and how hard it was to deal with it all without constantly raiding the fridge.

She'd really been on my mind the last few days, so I'd been praying for her situation - and apparently, I was on her mind too.

"I came to see you," she said. "You've been on my heart."

And she handed me a CD she'd burned.

It was a mix tape! Well, a mix CD. She has a very long commute to work each day, and has some songs she listens to in an attempt to keep herself positive and keep her spirits up.

And she made me a CD of some of those songs! I was so touched!

And just when I didn't think I could do with even one more interruption, I got one that I just couldn't do without.

And now every time I listen to those songs, I'll think of my friend, thank God for her, and send a little prayer her way.

Thank God for those kinds of interruptions!

A sigh of relief

Some stuff has been going on in my life, y'all. Big stuff.

Possibly good stuff. But stuff that has the bejeebus scared out of me, nonetheless.

Remember how I told you that there was a possibility that our catering company would be taking over complete control of the auction's food operations come July?

Guess what yesterday was - July 1. D-Day.

When I say taking over - in the past, Peasnap's Catering (yes, named after Anna Mare's nickname) has provided contract labor. The auction provided the food, and the facilities. Jason and crew provided the labor, for a fee, and any money collected went back to the auction.

The place has been losing money like crazy for YEARS - so, the auction decided it wanted out of the food business all together.

Part of the reason they lost money was because a former manager decided to give all the employees their food for $2 per meal, regardless of what they ate. So they're getting three or four time that worth of food (prime rib, even, or beef brisket some days). Instead of taking that money from an account to reimburse the cafeteria, it was just a loss. A MAJOR loss.

Late last year, the price went up to $3 a meal. And then, earlier this year, it went up to a more "normal" price, minus a 10% discount.

Which is where we are now. Jason's got this nifty software that tells him how much something costs to serve, including labor and utensils. So thankfully, we haven't had to shock folks going from three buck meals to full price.

Now, though, if we lose money, we don't get paid.

Don't.get.paid. As in, my husband drives 45 minutes to work, and doesn't bring home a paycheck.

Scared doesn't begin to describe what I've been over the past few months.

But you know what? God has been poking me the past few weeks, to let me know that everything is going to be allright.

I'm a notorious worry wart, and you know what memory verse Anna Marie has been memorizing for Children's Church? I Peter 5:7: Cast all your anxiety on Him, for He cares for you.

And then, the pastor quoted it Sunday morning. (I know - preaching to folks about worry is like shooting fish in a barrel these days, but still.)

And Jason told me last week that he'd been feeling that some positive changes were coming into our lives, that he didn't know what, but he just had this feeling in his spirit. And I take that very seriously, because my husband doesn't go around saying things like that every day. In fact, in our nearly 10 years of marriage, I don't think I've heard him say anything like that even once.

And he's been coming up with ideas to make more money, like serving hot dogs in the auction bay from one of our cute little kiosks, or yesterday morning he made fruit cups and sold out almost immediately. Now, he's looking at being open more than the one or two days a week, serving low-labor foods (like pizzas or chicken salad sandwiches.) There isn't anywhere else to eat within a few miles of the facility, so they'd probably welcome the idea.

It's been really hard the last few weeks to see my husband ruminating over facts and figures, trying to find revenue holes and make the best decisions for this company. But that's what he's good at - he's a numbers man.

Yesterday when I got home, I was almost afraid to ask him if he'd made a paycheck. But he did! Maybe not quite as much as he normally did (because of some big expense I can't remember right now) but he did!

And this little news editor breathed a sigh of relief.

And God was up there in Heaven, wanting to bonk me on the head for doubting. Again.

Please keep praying for us, and for this situation - that it will continue to work, and that I will continue to trust God (and my husband) that this is going to work out. I know that if/when this does work, it'll be one of those things where to the "natural" eye it can't be possible, so it'll be nothing short of God making it a go!

This post brought to you by the letters G, O, and D.

And also lots of coffee, because I've been up since 4 a.m. Happy Monday to me!

So, the ever-challenging Heather has been brave enough to share her personal testimony over the past week, and now is challenging her readers to do likewise.

And, as one of her readers, I guess that means me. Yikes!

It isn't that I'm ashamed of God, or His place in my life. It's just I haven't thought that my testimony was "exciting" enough.

(Yeah, last time I thought I had no testimony, I was a teenager, and I totaled my car three days later and almost died. You'd think I'd have learned my lesson.)

Really, I've been in church since before I was born. My grandfather, several aunts, and mother are all ministers. I spent my childhood traveling all over the country, in one beaten-up vehicle after another, so my mom could fulfill her call as a "singing evangelist."

Then what do I grow up and do? Attend a Christian college, and marry an ordained minister.

I can't get away from this God stuff, even if I wanted.

But you know what I've learned in the past few months, especially? That just because I got saved at the age of five, sitting in the floor of my bedroom, with my mother and her object lesson involving construction paper hearts, doesn't mean I can't learn a thing or three from God.

My family, y'all, is pretty messed up. There are some folks right now, that are seriously acting a fool. I mean, seriously. They are taking an already not-ideal situation, and "stirring the pot" to make it more than it has to be. They can't deal with their own business, so they feel compelled to get into someone else's and see what they can do to make it more exciting - at least for themselves. They apparently don't care about what happens to those they leave in their wake when they move on to their next drama.

They're destroying themselves, and they don't even realize it.

I'll admit, it can be somewhat "fun" to sit around when a crisis is ongoing and go over and over it. I know, because I spent the entirety of my summer last year doing just that. In a morbid sort of way, it satisfies some need within us as humans. But it doesn't profit us one whit.

It's like our pastor said yesterday in Sunday School, some folks can't stand the quiet because it would cause them to stop and think about where their lives are now and where they are headed. And that's the predicament that a segment of my family is in right now.

There are folks in my family who operate solely out of fear, out of a need for affirmation, or out of a need for self-preservation. And really, aren't those all just about the same thing?

And if it wasn't for God, I'd be in the same boat they are.

As we were singing one of the songs during worship yesterday, a thought hit me. The lyrics talked about wandering aimlessly in the dark, before God led us into the light. Most of the time, people use that terminology to describe a life of sin and disobedience. You know what hit me? My darkness might not have been what most folks term "sin" - I've never used drugs, never been drunk, and I was a virgin when I got married.

(Yeah, let that last one sink in for a minute.)

My darkness is this legacy that my family has created.

My darkness would be following in the footsteps of some of my relatives, even those who claim to know the Truth, and choosing to live in fear and selfishness.

Self-preservation as a motivation is a natural instinct, but it denies God the chance to provide for us. Fear isn't in His will for us either - He wants us to live free from fear, dependent upon Him. Fear can't live in an atmosphere like that.

So that's where God met me this time. I wasn't out in the bars, or cheating on my husband, or even on my taxes. I was fighting against those things which some members of my family have chosen over The Way, The Truth, and The Life.

With God's help, I have chosen the "more excellent way" that Paul speaks of. I have chosen light over darkness. I have chosen to rely on God, and not my own schemes and manipulations, to help me make it through. And I have chosen to embrace the silence, and to let it force me to introspection and prayer, rather than creating a constant drama so that my soul's cry is drowned out by the noise.

These are conscious choices that I have to make every day.

Heather's challenge is to testify as to how God meets us where we are. We aren't always in the same place, but right now, right here is where I am. He's so good, He knows exactly where we are and how to get there.

She's even adding an incentive, in the form of surprises, because she knows that it sometimes takes a bribe to get us to do the right thing.

And now, I repeat that challenge to you: where has God met you? You don't have to have a "Damascus Road" conversion experience (although there's certainly nothing wrong with God meeting you there) but start to think about the more subtle ways that He meets you at the point of your need. Then share them with us! I don't know about y'all, but I need all the encouragement and strength I can get!

A little something off my chest

(Subtitle: hit the deck. She's baring her soul again.)

Ok. So, it's late here. I need to be in bed. But I can't sleep. Because I'm writing a dang blog post in my head.

Better out than in, as Shrek would say.

Some people who know me personally might think I'm relieved that the church is closing. I've spent parts of the last few years discouraged about our lack of growth. I'm a VERY impatient person. I want things to happen, like, yesterday. And when they don't, I start doubting.

God. Myself. My husband's concern for our family's best interests.

In the last post, I commented that I was having to trust in God and in Jason's ability to hear from Him. Now, don't get me wrong - I don't think that God is any respecter of persons. I think I can hear from Him just as well as Jason can.

But, I also know that Jason isn't like me. He's calm. Oh my gosh, is he ever. He's the complete opposite of me. While I'm sitting at work today having an anxiety attack, wondering what we're going to do next, Jason isn't bothered. He knows that God will take care of us, and show us what we're going to do next.

I know that if I'm the one making this decision, not only am I likely to get impatient and make the wrong one, I'll end up second guessing it and driving myself and everyone around me up the wall.

And I wonder if this is all my fault. Did I have enough faith? Did I work hard enough to bring people into the church? Was I friendly enough to visitors when they came in?

It's just like 2002 all over again - that was the year Jason and I lost our jobs, both connected to the church, within three days of each other. In hindsight, I know that it wasn't our fault. There were, literally, people plotting to get us out of the way. (A conspiracy!)

And, I've spent lots of time second guessing our decision to come out here to live. Because Jason was so paralyzed with hurt over what had happened to us, he couldn't make any decision at all. He spent six weeks trying in vain to find a job. We even went and interviewed at a church, only to realize that what they wanted wasn't what we could offer. So I told him that I didn't know what he was going to do, but the baby and I were coming to Mississippi.

Did God take care of us after we got out here? Sure He did. Even when it came to church. For the first year, we attended a great church half an hour from here that helped us to heal and grow so that we could get past the hurt we'd suffered. Once I was once again under solid biblical teaching, I realized that in our old church situation, so much emphasis had been placed on the wrong things that I was starving spiritually. I was chasing after the wrong things, things that were temporary, because that's what the leadership at that church was doing. And Jason and I were part of that leadership.

When we were married, I thought I knew how our life was going to turn out. (Yeah, don't we all?) After four years, that life I thought I was going to have was gone - through no fault of our own.

Will we ever get back to that place where church is the ONLY thing in our lives? Where the ONLY people we know are in the church? I don't know. I don't know if Jason will ever be full-time staff at a church again. I don't know if I'll ever be identified as a minister's wife again. At this point, I can't even wrap my mind around starting over at a new church, with a new group of people. And having to explain to them how we ended up here.

Although Jason wouldn't agree with me on this point, I find it rather humiliating, like we've failed. I read our college alumni magazine, and see the great things that our schoolmates are doing for God, and I wonder - what did we do that was so wrong, that we've been denied success in that arena?

Maybe what I need to come to grips with is not just my concept of what "church" is - because "church as usual" isn't sounding real appealing to me right now. Maybe I need a new perspective on what "success" is too.

Don't worry - I don't expect to be on this train of thought any longer.

I just needed to get a few things off my chest.

Goodnight.

Tis a gift to be simple

I'm going to be speaking at church tomorrow. We're having, of course, a Thanksgiving-themed service.

I've written a little something for the service. It'll be an object lesson. I have a small toy grocery basket (labeled "Life-Mart") and inside are cans of various sizes with various labels - food, shelter, clothing, God, BMW, big screen TV, Pile O' Debt.

Read this, and then I'll tell you what I'm doing with the basket and cans.

Luke 12:29-31: 29 And do not set your heart on what you will eat or drink; do not worry about it. 30 For the pagan world runs after all such things, and your Father knows that you need them. 31 But seek his kingdom, and these things will be given to you as well.

As I was walking through Wal-Mart late one night last week, I was irritated.

It seems like there is no such thing as a “short trip to Wal-Mart.” No matter how detailed my list, it always takes me twice as long as I anticipated to get my shopping done.

Then it hit me.

I already had everything on my list. I had everything I needed that night.

So why was I still in the store, instead of at home in my PJ’s drinking hot apple cider?

It was the stuff I didn’t need that was causing the problem. Those things I was looking for but didn’t need were keeping me from being where I should’ve been.

Then God showed me that we’re the same way in our daily lives.

He supplies our needs. We have no cause to worry about what we’ll eat, or drink, or wear. He’s going to take care of us.

It’s worrying about the things we don’t need that gets us in trouble, that keeps us from being where we should be – spiritually, emotionally, mentally, and often physically and financially as well.

It can cause us to spend more time at work than we really have to, to pay for things we don’t need and shouldn’t have bought. It can keep us from having the peace of mind that we should have as children of God. If we’re worried about keeping up with the Joneses, we’re using energy we should be putting into our families, our spiritual life, and our outreach to this lost and dying world.

It can keep us from being able to support God’s work, because our resources are tied up in “things.”

This year, as we enter the holiday season, I think God would want us to be mindful of some things.

In a world that tells us that we never have enough, we need to remember that He is all we need.

In a world that tells us that the measure of success is the size of our bank account, our house, or our SUV, we need to remember that He measures success by the condition of our souls.

In a world that tells us that we need to seek the next big thing, we need to remember that He says to seek Him and His kingdom, and the rest will fall into place.

We need to remember that anything that takes our focus off of God can become an idol. And we need to remember that we serve a jealous God who won’t let idols stand.
(Remember what happened to the statue of Dagon when it was placed in the same room as the Ark of the Covenant!)

As the “pagans” of this world run around during the next month trying to out buy, out bake, and just plain out perform each other, the children of God need to remember what this season is really all about.

We need to keep our eyes off of what the world tells us is important, and remain thankful for the simple blessings He has bestowed upon us.
1 Tim. 6:6-8. 6 But godliness with contentment is great gain. 7 For we brought nothing into the world, and we can take nothing out of it. 8 But if we have food and clothing, we will be content with that.

At the end of the message, I'm going to play a version of "Simple Gifts" by Yo Yo Ma and Alison Kraus.

Now for the basket.

Anna Marie is going to carry it up on to the stage. Then, I'll read the labels and we'll start putting stuff in the basket. Pretty soon, it's too heavy to carry, and not everything will fit.

And what's usually the first thing to go when "stuff" starts to crowd in?

God.

But when we concentrate on just having what we need, it all fits. Even Him. And it isn't too heavy a load to bear.

I pray we all keep these things in mind in the hustle and bustle of this holiday season.