Stupid & Mean

{this post was written by my sweet friend Mary Kathryn...it was inspired by events that happened to me yesterday. The truths are too good not to share.}

i read a friend’s status update yesterday on facebook. a woman she had just met, with whom she has a mutual friend in common, said to her, ‘you’re not as fake as i had heard you were.’ my friend graciously said, ‘nice to meet you’ and went on with her children.

um…what?

who has the nerve to say that OUT LOUD?

i personally have a defect with the filter betwixt my brain and my mouth.

and my memory is selective anymore.

however.

i don’t think i’ve ever said anything that stupid and mean to someone’s face, much less in front of their children.

okay, probably i have. if i’m really being honest. i really just don’t remember anymore.

{but if i have ever been that stupid to or in front of you, please know how profoundly sorry i am.}

my response to her:

i am so sorry. how hurtful.

wonder what jesus has to say about that.

because here is what i’ve learned. and this has absolutely nothing to do with my friend who is nothing but genuine, if not transparent. her example, however, made me think on this.

it is very easy for me to hear the loving things people say about me. 

Visit Mk's blog 

Beauty for Ashes  

to read the rest of this post

When Words Fail, Give Thanks

I have started no less than 7 blog posts since yesterday. Wanting to share with you what's in my heart. The redemption and love that shone in my life yesterday.

But I just can't find the words. So in honor of all the words I find to write. I am starting my 1000 gifts list (inspired by One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp...a challenging, beautiful, life changing book).

Because life is a gift. Christ is a gift. The redemption in my life is beautiful gift that moves me to wordlessness (is that even a word??).

1. early morning phone call full of love soaked news

2. women's ministry leadership meetings

3. laughter

4. the big bird noise my hubby makes sometimes when he snores

5. puppy breath

to be cont'd.

Thank you Jesus.

PS -- start your lists, share your lists...I want to hear the things you are thankful for. The gifts Jesus gives you every day (big, small, random, lovely, all of 'em!)

Swinging Practice

Swing.

Miss.

Swing.

Miss.

Swing.

Miss.

I'd pitch. The ball would go by him. Then he'd swing.

Over and over again.

In the twenty minutes of our front yard baseball game Paxton never once connected with the ball. Not once. Every time it rolled down the driveway he ran after it. Laughing and galloping all the way. His smile never faded.

He found joy in the process. Joy despite his repeated failure (in the worlds eyes...in my eyes). Joy.

As we were putting away the toys he turned to me with a big grin. Those baby blues were just sparkling. "Mom, did you see how good I'm getting at swinging?" "I sure did buddy. You're getting really good at swinging." "Yeah, maybe next time I'll hit the ball. That would be fun too."

In that moment my baby boy taught me a HUGE lesson.

Every time I pitched the ball, I had hoped and prayed he would hit it. That it would go somewhere off the tip of that blue plastic bat. And every time he chased it down the driveway I silently lamented his failure. Worrying about frustration or disappointment.

He never worried. He never got frustrated. He wasn't disappointed.

So often we spend time learning, preparing, gearing up for the big moment. That moment when we connect. When the crack of the bat echoes into the stands and we watch the ball head for the wall as we trot to first base. Looking for the home run on the horizon we miss the game we are playing.

What a sweet reminder to be present in our lives. To find the joy in "swinging practice", to look for laughter in the little moments, to share a smile and love along the way. Enjoy the moments of "failure" and know that next time you might succeed and "that would be fun too."

The Sticky, Mucky Mud of Gossip

"In case you haven't heard..."

"You should pray for ______ , because...."

"I spoke to _______, yesterday. Can you believe...."

Oh Gossip. We are a society that lives to talk about what others are doing. In the dirty details of others lives we wallow like pigs. Have you ever stepped in mud? I mean really stepped in...your shoe is so deep that when you finally pull it out you hear that sucking sound? That's gossip. That sticky, mucky stuff that is hard to get off, hard to get out of and makes a noise like no other.

My phone rang this morning. It was the gossip train come to call. Yikes. Three sentences into the conversation I realized where it was going and I needed to shut it down. I finally managed to say, I'm not sure we need to talk about the details of ____'s life. If she wanted me to know I'd be happy to speak with her. (I could hear the sucking sound as I tried to extricate myself from the mud.)

The line went dead. Offensive I was, I suppose. But sometimes the truth is offensive. And this morning I chose something other than mud. I don't always make the right choice, it isn't always easy, but I'm trying.

When the world says, "Don't tell her I told you, but.."

The Bible answers: A gossip betrays a confidence, but a trustworthy person keeps a secret. Proverbs 11:13

When from the mud you hear, "You have got to hear...."

God assures us that: A perverse person stirs up conflict, and a gossip separates close friends. Proverbs 16:28

When the phone rings and you hear, "I've got so much to tell you. You'll never guess what I heard from..."

We are reminded in Proverbs 20:19 A gossip betrays a confidence; so avoid anyone who talks too much.

I was struck as I read the Bible passages on gossip. Betrays and separates was used over and over again. The damage done in a moment of weakness, in a moment of wanting the power of information in our hands, is real and lasts far beyond the echo of our own voices. In those moments we inflict wounds on people, on reputations, on friendships. We start fires that can spread faster than any wildfire and can consume relationships, small groups, churches and more.

How do you avoid it? Prayer, of course. And a conscious effort to constantly stay out of the mud. If we hold each other accountable for where we steer the conversations, perhaps we'll keep each other from wallowing.

I want to be a woman whose reputation is one that I won't gossip. The confidences, secrets, and friends are safe in my hands.

Father, how I hate the thought of hurting others, of hurting You. How easily I get sucked into feeling like I'm in the know. Help me see my conversations and my intentions for what they are Father. Let my life shine with the white linens of righteousness, not be speckled with brown and mud that can't be washed away. Amen.

Fridge Magnet Truth & Tissue Paper Love

The little magnet on the back barely holds it onto the fridge. The sheer weight of its truth almost makes it too heavy to be useful. But even before it touched the fridge something about the craft struck a chord so deep in me that I almost couldn't breathe.

I can hear some of you now. Um, yeah, Wendy its a foam heart with a cross on it. And???

Stick with me here.

Just hours before Jesus died He was sharing a meal with those closest to Him, the disciples. It is at that meal that Jesus gives the disciples a new commandment. "Love one another." There's the long and the short of it. So simple and yet, so darn hard. Love one another. Not like. Not put up with. Love.

But, I digress.

Jesus says that is how the world will know that we are His. Our love for one another. Not by the Scripture you can recite. Not by the number of times you go to church. Not a pew with your name on it. Not how well behaved your children are. Your love for others.

What is stamped on your heart? As I held Isabel's Sunday school craft project in my hands I heard the echoes of Jesus...by this they will know you...by this they will know me.

With that truth ringing in my ears I continued my quest for the perfect Valentine's card for my sweet hubby. He always seems to find just the right card -- love, devotion, God and romance all sealed tight in an envelope with my name on it. For every holiday. I struggle. I must read 50 cards every time I go searching for one for him. Be it valentines, birthdays, whatever. There are never the right words. NEVER!

And this year was no different. Feeling like a failure I gave up the hunt this year. There is no card for my man, because no one can speak the love that is in my heart for him.

Hallmark doesn't make the my life sucked then you appeared card. Or the why do you find my attractive?? I don't get it, but I'm thankful for it card. Or how about the thanks for putting up with my mood swings, food cravings and emotional breakdowns card (that would be a hot seller, huh?)

As our peanuts began making cards for daddy it struck me. I can make a card, because I know the love I have for that man.

So I wrote. (that was the easy part) I spilled out my lil heart on the inside of a folded piece of card stock. With the final stroke of my name signed at the bottom I was pleased...there is our truth in this card. The love, the laughter, the silliness, the blessings and the Creator of our love.

I folded it shut. Happy. Content. Excited to give it to him.

But there on the table laid a plain piece of folded white card stock. Hardly a romantic card. Then the spark of creativity flashed in my brain. Grabbing glue, tissue paper and a pen I was off like a flash. Creative magic was happening right here in my kitchen.

When I was done it isn't exactly the beautiful masterpiece I had envisioned. Not so much...

And for a split second I was ready to toss it out. Ready to face my hubby with no card on the most romantic day of the year (okay, so it was a melodramatic split second). And then I opened it again.

There under that mass of sorta, kinda heart shaped tissue paper is our love. My heart calling to his. There would be no throwing it out.

I have spent years waiting for huge spiritual truths to come crashing into my life...like a heavenly meteor lined with the knowledge I need. I study and pray and wait for spiritual enlightenment in grown up ways. And where did it come from this week...fridge magnets and tissue paper. Ha, so simple I could have missed it.

Father, how blessed we are that You love us. That you teach us how to love. Thank you for the truth of who you are and what we've been given. Thank you using the simplest things to teach the biggest lessons.

In Love with Love

When we were dating and falling in love Will asked me, "Are you in love with love?" He went on to tell me how his friend had told him to avoid women who just were in love with love and not with the man.

I quickly assured him that I was in love with him...not with love. In all truth I had no idea what that question meant.

Still don't.

And while I didn't want him to think I was some lunatic girl in love with everyone and connected to nobody, I answered no. But the more I thought about the question. The more I live. I might have changed my answer.

Oh, sigh, on this day of hearts, flowers, lil fat guys armed with arrows and chocolates wrapped in romantic colors, don't get me wrong. I love my husband. I love his laugh, his smile, the tears that well up in his eyes when life moves his heart. I love that he is a provider, a conqueror, my hero and my comedian. His love inspires me to be a better person, to be the wife he deserves. Oh, yes, I love that man of mine.

But the truth is I am in love with love.

For you see, I am in love with the One who is love.

God is love. (1 John 4:8)

God is patient.

God is kind.

God does not envy.

God does not boast.

God is not proud.

God does not dishonor others.

God is no self-seeking.

God is not easily angered.

God keeps no record of wrongs.

God does not delight in evil.

God rejoices in the truth.

God always trust.

God always hopes.

God always perseveres.

God never fails.

So, as we celebrate a sugared up holiday about romance and love. I urge you to take a moment breathe a prayer to the Holy valentine.

I'm in love with love.

I'm in love with Jesus.

Father, thank you for loving us before we knew of love. Thank you for loving us despite all the reasons not to. Teach us to love. The deep, grace-filled, sacrificial love that only comes from You. Bless our single friends, may they feel complete in Your Holy love and remember that You are the author of their love story. And for all those in a relationship and marriage, Father, remind them of the preciousness of their moments...to treasure and celebrate them. Thank you for love!

Whose Words and Labels Define You?

"For years of mornings, have woken wanting to die. Life itself twists into nightmare. For years, I've pulled the covers up over my head, dreading to begin another day I'd be bound to just wreck. Years, I lie listening to the taunt of names ringing off my interior walls, ones from the past that never drifted far and away: Loser. Mess. Failure. They are signs nailed overhead, nailed through me, naming me." These words from Ann Voskamp's One Thousand Gifts (emphasis mine) rattled in my head and heart. Through my dreams and waking fog.

Names ringing off my interior walls.

Fat. Failure. Liar.

Slut. Angry. Crazy.

Lost. Sad. Wrong.

Lost. Worthless. Unworthy.

Alone. Ugly. Stupid.

The list goes on and on. The echo inside my heart raises to the fever pitch cry of an angry mob. I spent years looking for the voice. The love. The hope. That would quiet those voices. That could tear down those "signs nailed through me, naming me."

My whole life I have been labeled by others, by the world, by myself. And I live in those labels. Pinned under them like a bug on a Styrofoam board. A spectacle defined by them. A life barely lived.

As I read Ann's words in this book I understand. I know these words I've never read. I breathe in her pain, and while it looks different then mine it still smells and tastes of bittersweet loss and love. I am nearly paralyzed as I read this book...afraid to breathe, hesitant to read and open doors long closed, and yet I fear if I put it down I'll miss the heavenly whisper in the turn of the page.

When I finally lay my head down for sleep, I can't. Labels. Names. Words. What are they? Do I still live by them??

I would love for the music to hit an epic crescendo here and across the screen the word

saved

You'd sigh in a doesn't-Hollywood-make-it-all-better kinda way and life would have a pretty little bow on it.

but

My life isn't decorated by bows and ribbons -- more like,diapers, toys, school papers and laundry. And this isn't Hollywood (for one thing which I am thankful) and Hollywood's manufactured happy endings are not eternal and they aren't filled with saving grace.

Emotional. Uncool. New.

Inexperienced. Fat. Tired.

Angry. Unlovable. Lazy.

Trivial. Egotistical. Proud.

Confused. Lost. Cowardly.

Oh yes, the labels are still nailed to me. And while I get up every morning with the hope that today will be different. That today I'll live in the true reflection of Christ's love in me. But by the end of the day if anyone can even see Christ in me He is but a hint of His glory, if that, as though twisted in a fun house mirror.

Isaiah 43 says, "I have called you by name; you are mine."

Mine, whispers Jesus.

From the heights of heaven to the depths of my heart God reminds me, you are mine.

Where do I lose that? How does the world speak louder than the Bible? Than the Creator? Then the one who bears the scars for my sinful life?

I am His.

And while I am His, I will fail, but He will redeem the failure. I may overeat, but He will forgive the sin and walk with me to better choices. I will be emotional, but He made me that way and He can help me channel those emotions to emotionally driven energy not outbursts and entanglements. I will be proud and boastful, and He will correct the wrong thinking, humble me when needed and teach me to be boastful in Him.

You see, at the core of my being. Those very fibers He knit together in my mother's womb. I am who He made me. But left to my own devices, to the world's forces and cruel names, I'm not the best me I can be.

It is in Him, that I can become that woman. It is through Him that I have the strength to pull those covers off. It is through Him, that I can rip down the labels of this world and see my label.

Washed white at the cross my name tag sparkles in eternity.

It says, Hello my name is Wendy...and I am His.

The Rain Cloud of Unbelief

They say that admitting your problem is the first step to healing.

So...

My name is Wendy and I struggle with unbelief.

Yep, I have a belief problem.

It isn't that I don't believe Jesus can save, heal, love and more. It isn't that I don't pray for those things or ask for those things.

It is that I just don't believe enough. There are times when I get caught in a cycle prayer or thoughts that start out "If you can" or "if you would". Like I am bothering God with my petitions. Like I don't think He will answer or He has time or that I am worth it to Him.

And in my desperation for healing, for saved family members, for a ministry that shines Jesus into the world I begin to live in the shadow of my unbelief. Like a little black rain cloud it hovers over my head, blocking out the Son and changing the look of my circumstance.

In Mark 9 there is a father desperate for the healing of his son and he finds himself asking for Jesus to heal him. As he answers Jesus' questions he says, "But if you can do anything, take pity on us and help us."

if you can do anything

We don't know if this man knew of Jesus' birthright. That He was the Son of God. But what we do know is this father believed in Jesus enough to ask Him to save His son. He believed in Him enough to be stirred into action.

Once he was in action his belief wavered. How many times has that happened to you? You believe God is calling you into action. You are on your feet or maybe on your knees and suddenly it happens...the rain cloud begins to hover. Hello unbelief.

if you can do anything

How does Jesus answer the man? Probably the same way He whispers to us from the height of the heavens into the depths of our hearts. “‘If you can’?” said Jesus. “Everything is possible for one who believes." (Mark 9:23)

Oooohhhh!! How I want to be one who believes. Who everything is possible for.

I'm not the only one those words convict. In Mark 9:24 the father cries out, "I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!"

I'm weak. I do believe, a little. But help me, Lord, to not live in the shadow of this dark cloud. Help me overcome my unbelief!

Like the son in Mark 9 our lives can be changed, healed and rescued from the darkness that lives in every corner.

Fight your unbelief. Strive to live in the light of Christ. Ask God for more it.

Father, I ask that you help me strengthen my belief muscles. That every time distrust or disbelief darken the skies of my life you would help me to reach out to You. Help my belief grow so that my unbelief is but a memory. Amen.

Lessons in Obedience...from our dogs.

I held his food bowl in my hand. Drool was pooling on the deck where it was dripping from his mouth. He was sitting patiently. Waiting. Triton knew food was coming. A reward for his obedience.

In my other hand I held her bowl. She was twitching, wiggling, and whining. Sitting is hard for her. Barlow is a sweet dog and if you can engage her brain for 25 seconds she can be obedient. But this morning as the smell of fresh dog kibble wafted on the breeze she was not happy. Her whole demeanor yelled, "I'm listening. I'm obeying. I'm so not happy about it." It didn't matter what the reward was. Obedience came at the price of her happy labby heart.

Our Rottweiler, Triton, is a very obedient lug. He's content to lay on his bed when asked, with a watchful eye and a wagging tail he waits. He knows that love, bones, food, kisses and kiddo giggles come when the time is right. Obedience is the way he rolls. His quiet presence fills our house with security. His slow, intentional affection makes you want to spend time with him.

At Mach 3 Barlow has the best labbish intentions. She loves you and she wants you to know it as she stands on her head, in your lap, licking your hand, while wiggling her fool little body with her coffee-table-clearing-tail. If she's excited, she barks. If she's worried, she whines. If she's disgruntled, she grumbles. She's always got something to "say". There's nothing halfway about Barlow's love or her need to play with our family. But caught in the emotional wiggles of life, obedience is forgotten, ignored or avoided. Loving her can be exhausting, irritating and often downright difficult.

Something I've learned today. I'm a kind of a lab these days.

God has called me to a place of obedience. A place where the only reward is time with God. Where the heavenly aroma of a sweet savior wafts on the breezes of my life. There is nothing easy about the uphill, often lonely, sometimes hidden path God has me walking on.

And what have I become? My yellow lab. I whine. I wiggle. I grumble. I want to do it my way. Mach 3 with emotions flapping in the breeze. But now, is not that time.

In the past weeks, months maybe, I have tried to blame others for why I'm unhappy. For why I shouldn't have to walk the path my Master has called me to. They aren' t kind enough. They don't care. They don't see the value in my work. They don't see the need for my ministry. They...they....they. Grumble....whine....grumble.

Whether those things are true or not have no bearing on what the call on my life is. No more than Barlow's want, or not, to sit for her breakfast. I said do, so she should. She will. She must. Or she'll be a very hungry lil thing.

In my life. He's laid it out. Work here. This is your ministry. Do it....or you'll be a very empty lil thing.

And that is what I am. Empty.

I'm hungry for fellowship. I'm hungry for direction. I'm thirsty for my Jesus. I'm empty because an earthly, emotional, wiggling life is hard and there's no substance to it.

Here are words I never knew I'd utter...I want to be more like my Rottweiler. Steady. Listening. Obeying.

Father God, how far beyond my comprehension are your plans and this life. I am sorry for grumbling, doubting and selfish unbelief. As I walk this path you have laid in front of me, please, please strengthen me. Whisper to me. Help me to obey you, so that I might live in your presence knowing that the reward of you is worth far more than the unpleasantness of my circumstances. Amen.

...and a little child will lead them

From the moment I held my newborn babies I knew life would never be the same. In the wee hours of the mornings during feedings and fevers, in the moments of laughter and the moments of discipline I knew God was using my children to make me a better person.

I had no idea how my five-year-old would change my world view in a moment and inspire me to do more. (If you haven't already read Whose Child Is She?, please visit that post first so you are up to speed about the amazing happenings in our household this week.)

First,

Here's Isabel holding one of the dresses we finished today!

In the past few days we have purchased fabric, cutout patterns and started making things that are starting to look like dresses. While I have been doing a lion's share of the assembling it has led to sweet moments as the kids sit on my lap and help guide the fabric or the conversations we have over the whir of the sewing machine.

As we were sewing one of the sides on the dress above Isabel said, "This dress is beautiful. I hope the girl that wears it feels beautiful too." (yes, you know me, I teared up)

As I explained to Isabel that we can do 3 or 4 dresses and a blanket to send out next week she made a funny face. "So we can do that every week, right?" she asked. "Um, baby, I'm not sure we can afford that or that we have time to keep up that much every week." "But mom, they need more than 3 dresses and what about the boys?"

I didn't have answer. We can't clothe the whole world or even just the orphans of the world. But we can't turn our backs or ignore God's mandates that are living themselves out in this child's heart. So what do we do?

Ask for help.

Do you knit?

Do you crochet?

Do you sew?

Can you knot those no sew blankets?

Can you buy a couple of yards of cute fabric?

Can you help Isabel bless others?

Can you help clothe an orphan?

Can you shine a little bit of Jesus into a whole lot of lives?

Do you have children? Can you get them involved in helping Isabel -- sew together, pick out fabric, learn to crochet together?

In Isaiah it says, "...and a little child will lead them."

And I'm so excited to follow.

Whose Child is She?

"Whose child is she?"

A question jokingly asked in our house frequently. Whether it is the "concerts" with complete with microphone & guitar, a fashion show or the occasional meltdown with screaming and carrying on, I often look at my daughter and wonder. Whose child is she?

Lately I have noticed something different in the way Isabel plays and how she speaks about when she's older (or how she says it..."old and married"). She has decided when she gets married they will adopt orphans so she can be their mom. A tender heart has emerged with a passion I am floored by.

I stood in the hallway the other day listening to Isabel "teach" the imaginary orphans at the school she runs in her bedroom. I was floored by her patience and laughter with the game. I listened as she taught them of God's love and her love for them. I listened as she sang to them and cuddled them. (Okay, yes I do know they are invisible, but in her game, in her head, they are not).

Then last week as the kids' quiet time was wrapping up I walked by her bedroom and saw all her play money spread all over her bed in piles. "Whatcha playing?" I asked. "Well, mom," insert flash of a dimpled grin here, "I am selling things with my princess cash register to get money for the people who don't have any. Then they can come to me and I'll give them money to get what they need."

I cried. Right there leaning on her door jam, I cried big, overwhelmed tears. Whose child is this?

When I regained my composure I hugged her and explained that I am amazed by her love for people and just in awe of the heart that God gave her.

Moved, I was today. (and apparently channeling Yoda in my writing)

I went in search of a project our family could do. Something to help Isabel take her heart and really touch people for Jesus. Something that would allow her to do something for these orphans that she loves in her heart and in her imaginary world.

Soon into my online research I found myself getting discouraged. Everything I found was about giving money. Don't get me wrong, I am not opposed to supporting organizations but this was about more than a check. This was about making service real for Isabel, for our family.

On a whim I submitted a form asking an organization called Orphan's Lifeline International explaining a bit about Isabel's heart and what I was searching for. Within minutes I had an answer back that we could make blankets, hats and clothing for orphans right here in the U.S..

When I told Isabel she covered her mouth in shock and then she cried. Big, overwhelmed tears. With tears still on her cheeks she began to smile, "Okay, we'll start with a blanket and clothes. When can we get to the store, mom?"

Whose child is she?

God's.

And if He is moving the heart of a five-year-old to provide for His children imagine what He'll do with her life. Imagine what He could do with our family.

So this afternoon's homeschooling is cut short. We're off to put our shoes on and go to the store. After all, there are orphans to be clothed and blankets that need to stitched together with love. And there is a 5 year old whose view of Jesus and the world is about to get a whole lot bigger.

One last thought, as I read James 1:27 (look after orphans and widows in their distress) to Isabel over her snack today. I said, "See how your games and desires are matching up with God's word."

"Yep," she said. "Cuz that's why God made us. To love. So when are we going to the store?"

(right now, baby girl, right now)

Blessed is the Woman who Believes

A sweet song of worship rings in the air as my alarm goes off. The house is still and in the whisper of time before the day begins it is easy to remember God's promises, to believe that every step of my day is covered in His plans, and to live like I believe.

But...

...there's juice spilled on the carpet.

...there is a mountain of laundry and only half a cup of detergent.

...there are screaming children in the playroom.

...there's eye rolling, back talking and timeouts.

...traffic.

...long lines with unhappy people at the checkout.

...even longer waits at the doctor's office.

...there's wondering if we'll make ends meet at the end of the month.

...there's family conflict.

...sickness.

....death, loss, grief.

...there's the heart ache of the past.

...the uncertainty of the future.

Somewhere in the hail storms of life my belief becomes dented and beat up. And I find that I am not living like a woman who believes God loves me and He is working all things for my good.

Yesterday, my Facebook status said, "How would your life change if you woke up every morning BELIEVING that God works all things for your good and that He loves you?" My sweet friends over at Proverbs 31 posted it as their status too. Reading the responses was fascinating to me.

There was a large segment of people that answered "my life is different because I already believe that." Interesting. I hadn't thought of it in that light...the faith of salvation changes lives immediately. But how do you exercise that faith daily? What do you do to not lose sight of God's love and plans for you in the midst of life's moments?

There were a few "I needed to hear" that kind of responses, and to God be the glory on that one. If my fb status is being used by God to whisper to the hearts of His children.... Don't even have words for the end of the statement...just WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

I had asked the questions hoping for concrete answers...my life would be ____ . And I got some of those -- joy was probably the top thing people said they would have. JOY!!

In the final days of 2010 I was struck by a Bible verse in a way that I can't even begin to fully explain. I am drawn to it in a new way. It has become the basis for our women's ministry theme this year. It is the reason I started blogging again. It is the fresh wind in my sails as I look into 2011.

Midway through the first chapter of Luke is the story of Mary coming to visit Elizabeth. In her sweet proclamation of faith and excitement over Mary's visit, her greeting and the news of her pregnancy Elizabeth says, "Blessed is she who has believed that the Lord would fulfill his promises to her!"

Blessed is she who has believed that the Lord would fulfill his promises to her!

Let that wash over you for a moment.

That is where my fb status question came from. That is what I'm driven to find out...to teach...to embrace...to live. I want to be that woman. I want that written on the last page of my life here on earth - "Blessed is she who has believed that the Lord would fulfill his promises to her!" Because that, my friends, is what real life here is all about.

If I believe - I'm saved.

If I believe - I'm the daughter of the King.

If I believe - my heart is changed.

If my heart is changed I live a life that the King designed for me.

If I am living the life the King made me to live then I am living in victory, in joy, in love.

And out of those places spring the works of my faith - service, missions, worship, prayer, teaching, giving, parenting, loving.

And if my days are filled with the works of my faith, then my life will be a reflection of my God.

And if I am reflection of my God, others will be begin to believe...

So my question, rephrased this time, What would your life look like if you lived every day BELIEVING that God works all things for your good and that He loves you no matter what the circumstance?

Not the I know somewhere in the back of my head God loves my kinda life. The life that says in the face of every circumstance, "My daddy's The King and oh how He loves me." A life that says to every traffic jam, rude cashier, hard-to-love family member and frustrating moment, "God is strengthening me in this moment, and for this I will rejoice." A life that shines in the darkest moments of humanity and says, "This is tough. And I'm hurt and scared, but God is strong and steady and His light will shine in this darkness."

Blessed is the woman who believes....

Blessed is the woman who is living like she is believing....

An Uber-Christian

I have a confession to make.

I'm not an uber-Christian.

Shocked, are you?? Anyone, who knows me well, has stood next to me the grocery line or reads this blog, probably has already figured that out.

But you know what. I wish I was.

I hear about people who spend hours on their knees and have a dynamic prayer life. Or folks traveling around the world on amazing trips to share Jesus with the lost, disenchanted and suffering. Or I watch one of my friends promote her book, her blog, her ministry, her speaking, her godly-womaness-that-I-don't-got online. And I begin to compare.

I don't have a dynamic prayer life. Some days my prayers are non-existent or breaths of "help me, Jesus".

I don't go on trips to save the world. I don't find lost people at the grocery store looking for Jesus...usually they are looking for peanut butter or something much less thrilling.

I fall into the comparison trap a lot. Thinking that my little is little in the eyes of God. That my blog with 2.1 readers; my homeschooling lessons for 2.2 kids (2 kids and .2 dogs really, but hey!); that laundry, sweeping and cooking for my family; and my nearly exhaustive thoughts, research, emailing and planning for the ladies of my community aren't very much.

And yet, lately, there is a theme in what God is teaching me. From the last word in a completed Bible study today, to the pages of a book I am reading at night, to the snippet of an online presentation I watched. My little is little.

(stay with me here)

But God is not little. And when I bloom where He planted me -- in our "classroom" at home, right here on this blog, in my laundry room, at our dining room table, in our kitchen, on our women's ministry leadership team -- my little bitty bloom casts some big seeds.

God hasn't called me to fill stadiums and teach. Or write best sellers or blogs with a massive following. Or, as of yet, bring people to Jesus at the grocery store.

He does want more for me. He always has. (Jeremiah 29, assures us of that) He wants the best of the best for me...the best of me.

And so, does He want me to have a dynamic prayer life...absolutely. He loves me. Why wouldn't He want me to spend time with Him, listen to Him, speak to Him...often, a lot! Does He want me to stop overeating...you bet. He wants to be what I hunger for, what satisfies me. (see Matthew 5:6). I could spend a week listing all that He wants me to be better at or stop or start or you name it.

God totally wants me to be an uber-Christian.

But here's the catch...I need to be the Wendy kind of uber-Christian He formed me to be (Psalm 139:13). To learn the habits that draw me to Him. The habits that will help this little bloom cast seeds only Jesus could carry.

What He doesn't want is for me to run around comparing myself to others. To wish a way the moments He's given me as I long for something else. A bigger following, a larger house, a dynamic career...all those things that look so enticing from this side of my living room window.

Before the world began He had a plan -- a place and calling for the Beths, Lysas, Marks, and Ricks of the worlds. And there was a place and a calling with a little reserved sign on it...until I could take my place there.

What is He calling you to be? Are you so busy being aware of all you're not that you aren't being at all? What habits do you need to break or make so that you can be the bearer of some Jesus-sized seeds?

I want to be tracted!

I looked up and was shocked to realize where I was. I had passed the exit I was headed to...by a few miles! Shaking my head I focused on where I was and my inner GPS began its own recalculating chant. Quickly I exited the highway and began to wind my way back to where I was headed. The one place I had to go this morning.

10 minutes of backtracking later I was back on track and focusing.

I thought.

Back at home and settled in I ran out into the garage to grab a soda. A little caffeine to fuel my morning push to check off lots of "to dos". Half way back through the kitchen I realized I had a rawhide in my hand instead of a soda. Hmmm...try that again. Half way back through the kitchen a second time - look down - yep, another rawhide. Thankfully the third trip was successful and I'm not curled up on the dog bed trying to chew their bones.

A quick email written. Went to press send and realized I didn't know how it was supposed to be to.

Sigh.

In hopes of finding a verse to meditate on or something to center my obviously distracted heart I went to a biblegateway.com and typed in distracted. You know what I found?

But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, “Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!” Luke 10:40

The only verse that comes up with distracted, distract or distraction in it is about a woman so wound up in her own to do list that she has missed Jesus -- who happened to be sitting in her own living room.

Hmmmm....

So.

To do list - put away.

Agenda - not even written for the day.

Praise music - turned on and turned up (thank you Pandora!).

Blog - well, nearly written...cuz I had to tell somebody about that word, that verse, that moment of seriously?

On tap for this afternoon? Well, Bible study, homeschooling with the peanuts and whatever God puts in front of me. (oh and just the smallest load of laundry so hubby doesn't go naked to work tomorrow)

My point. I think the world has overloaded my circuits today. And maybe for a lot longer. In prayer this morning I asked God to "change me" -- make me the woman He wants me to be. I won't become that woman fueling up to check off my own to do list and so distracted by what I think is important.

I don't want to be so distracted that I become unproductive. I want to be so tracted (is that the opposite of dis-tracted?) that I'm filled up with my Jesus.

Good morning, ugly!

So, I've been grumbling for a couple of weeks. (we'll get to why, in a minute)

And suddenly this morning, God took the things I've been reading, praying, studying and writing and brought them into focus. He quite literally shifted the lens of my life so I could see what was right in front of me.

In focus, it is ugly.

We're talking U-G-L-Y....ugly.

We had the amazing opportunity to study "Growing Kids God's Way" over the past few months. With witty and wise leaders and a committed and supportive small group we went through this book that literally changed how we are parenting. We are walking through the application phase of many of the challenging things we learned. Including first time obedience.

Our kids are getting it. We are seeing changes in them...and in us. The atmosphere of our home is shifting and we are enjoying the process (I know, who knew!?!?).

Then, this morning...the focusing...the ugly truth...the challenge.

Remember the grumbling? If you've seen me in person at all over the last few weeks you will...you've heard it...some more than once. Just think of the earful my poor hubby has had to live with. (some of you are breathing a sigh of relief...perhaps long distance friendships aren't so bad, huh?)

A few weeks back the teaching team for our upcoming women's retreat met. If you lay out the talents, gifts and credentials of the three women teaching at our spring retreat you'd see that I might be fit to hold the doors, set up the chairs or maybe introduce the others. My thoughts were I could teach the short, "easy" introductory session and leave the big messages to the big guns. I knew exactly how it would go down. Until it didn't. Somehow, when the dust settled I was left with the Sunday morning session. I was the anchor.

And so the grumbling began.

I'm not worthy. Not talented. Not ready. Didn't know this was what I was signing up for. And so many more, long, pathetic, whining excuses have come out of my mouth. Over and over again.

Is it coming into focus for you yet?

As the lens rotated this morning, there I saw it.

Saw me.

A child of God with a God-sized task laid out in front of her. What was I doing? Throwing a spiritual temper-tantrum -- whining, stamping my feet, complaining, and throwing a little pity party. Where was my obedience?

Joshua 22 says to love the LORD your God, to walk in obedience to him, to keep his commands, to hold fast to him and to serve him with all your heart and with all your soul.

This morning, as I focus on God. I realize what He's called me to is not about me...never was. Oh yes, I might learn something along the way (and if I don't then I've missed yet another blessing), but God's work is about God. And I've been called to such a time that I might be able to see God work in the lives of the women He calls to this retreat.

My job is to be obedient...the first time He calls. Not wander in my own desert until there is enough sand in my shoes that anything else seems like a step up.

My job is to read, learn, research, pray, listen, write. Rinse and repeat. Over and over again until it is time to open my mouth for Him. Then, as I step in to what He has called me to...He'll show up. Even if I stumble over the words, shuffle my papers and forget the punchline to my opening joke, God will still be there. He'll take my unpolished, overthought words and hand them to His sweet daughters with a heavenly bow.

My job is to answer Him. "Here I am!" "Yes Lord."

The first time He calls.

Then hold fast to Him and serve with all my heart.

No more grumbling...

May my lips overflow with praise, for you teach me your decrees. Psalm 119:171

....them...the women God sends us....

A huge daisy, 20+ inches across, sprouted out of a large bright blue tin pail. Tickets stacked up, clipboard out, pens at the ready and four women standing around the table...we were ready. As service ended and people walked into the cafeteria there were butterflies in my stomach. We were prepared for the stampede of women who couldn't wait to purchase their tickets for women's ministry launch event.

Well, what's less than a stampede...a trickle?

Almost an house later as I carried the bright pink daisy and our other things out to our car I was doing my best to keep on a happy face. But inside there was a storm a-brewing!

I have been eating, sleeping, and dreaming about this launch -- planning meetings, asking friends and merchants for donations of door prizes (and can I just tell you there are some awesome ones!!), and praying that we can bless the socks off the women God gives us. But yesterday I got caught up in my own ego and the numbers of it all. Won't it be awesome if we sell out on the first day. And all sorts of other thoughts of how many tickets we'd sell.

As I laid in bed this morning I began to talk to God. Father, please help me get my heart right for these meetings today. I know you have placed two more opportunities in front me with your daughters in mind. Allow me to hear what you are bringing us to and say only that which needs to be planned or imparted. And, (sigh) what about these tickets Father?

And as I laid in bed watching the wind in the trees outside something occurred to me. I've been praying from the very first glimmer of an idea for this "launch" that we are able to bless the women God sends to us -- great food, a warm friendship inspiring atmosphere, a dynamic speaker who will stir women's hearts for God and their sisters and to have prizes that will surprise and delight them.

....them...the women God sends us....

We loved you so much that we were delighted to share with you not only the gospel of God but our lives as well. 1 Thessalonians 2:8 

I print that verse on the top of every planning meeting agenda so that we remember THAT is what we are here for as women's ministry leaders. That through our planning we might create events that lead women to the feet of Christ; whether it is to come face to face with Him the first time or fall more in love with Him. And while we are kneeling their, together, it is our sincere prayer that women learn how to have real relationships - friendships discovered in worship, grown stronger in prayer and learning, peppered with wisdom and healthy boundaries and filled with laughter and love.

We loved you so much that we were delighted...with you.

With you! It wasn't about the volume of women yesterday or the number of tickets. It was about the women. And I got so caught up in my own head I forgot to delight in the women I've been praying for! I forgot to smile at her and wonder -- what piece of what we're planning did God set up for her?

So here I sit getting ready to start my women's ministry Monday with my ego bruised (the best way for an ego to be!) and my attitude in check.

Father, thank you for driving me to my knees this morning, for the tears and the embarrassment. Thank you for helping me to remember why You touched my heart for this ministry...for "them".... Help me to stay in this place, Lord, as we walk these last couple of weeks toward the launch, that I might see their faces, pray for their hearts and strive to put all the pieces in place for You to bless them and meet them at those tables. Jesus thank you for walking those five women across the cafeteria yesterday to purchase their tickets. I ask you, Father, please be with them prepare their hearts for time with you that night -- not as mom, coworker, wife, etc., but "just" as your daughter invited to the table by her sisters for a night of celebration of our beauty and growth in You.

The False Friendships of Facebook?

I know what color socks you are wearing. I know when you are stuck in traffic. I know when your birthday is and can even send you greetings from my living room. I know your favorite books, movies and quotes. I know when you have good days and bad.

Nope, I'm not a stalker...I'm your Facebook friend. And as great as it is to be in instant communication with my friends and gobble up little bits of their lives with no effort, it is not friendship.

Have you ever gotten an email from someone and something in it pushed your buttons so badly that you fire back a snotty reply? Oh, come one...you've done it...I mean I haven't but I've heard of people that have and I'm sure you are one of them. (he, he) Seriously though, your hot button's been pushed, you hit send and now what? You are in an argument with someone only to find out they forgot to put the little smiley face next their sarcasm and you didn't pick it up. They weren't trying to push any buttons, in fact when you go back and read it (inserting your own :) ) it is sort of funny. Oops. Email was invented for business communication and in our all-too-busy lives we've adapted it to fit our needs. However, does it replace a good old fashioned phone call? No. Tone of voice would have told you she is kidding, not emoticons needed. You could have also heard her need for encouragement, her fatigue or her excitement, but we miss those things when we go for convenience over quality.

By now you are tapping your foot and saying, "Wendy, come on? Everyone uses email and Facebook (Twitter, MySpace...and more)."

Yep, they do. And my issue isn't with them, per se, but more the false sense of connectedness and friendship it seems to be lending to our already disconnected society. Since I know your beef with the moron in traffic this morning and I saw your pictures from your latest vacation, somehow it feels like I know what's going on in your life. But I don't know what is going on in your heart -- I don't know the troubles your teenage daughter is having that I could pray for (cuz she'd kill you if you posted that!!), or how you got passed over for that promotion again for work or how you are struggling to understand why God doesn't answer your prayer.

Why? Because it is hard to be vulnerable to 500 people when they have a chance to "like" your status, message each other and judge you from their living rooms. Because fb allows us to be a better version of ourselves (at least publicly) -- more funny, more religious, more caring. No one can see your flaws unless you post them and that doesn't happen.

I do love to use Facebook to share my photos with family and friends that are far away. I can put up tons without overloading their inboxes and they can leave their comments. It is a great way to share my life, because Facebook is not our connection it enhances our communication.

I'm on a quest for friends, not numbers, lately. Funny, flawed, real women with whom I can laugh, love and live. I am sure there are a number of my 236 friends on Facebook that fit that bill, but how many of us will make the investment to be more than a number on someone's profile? Will pickup the phone? Will invite someone to dinner? Will dare to peel back our profile and show the sometimes ugly humanness underneath?

What do you use Facebook for? Does it define your relationships? Enhance your friendships? I want to hear how social media is impacting women's relationships...oh and if you want you can add me as a friend. :)

Holding onto the Boxwoods

Sitting at my desk as I look out the window I can see grass, trees and flowers I planted last weekend.  This doesn't seem so terribly remarkable to you, I suppose, because you don't know the old view. Until last week five foot tall (probably closer to six...at any rate they were taller than me!) boxwoods blocked out the sun and my only view was the edge of greenery and the deadwood underneath.

Even before the house was officially ours we knew we had to trim them or rip them out. They were overgrown and growing out over our walkway, you had to steer clear of them just to enter our house. From the street they didn't look so bad, really. In fact some people had mentioned how the boxwoods made the house look stately.

From the walkway side they were green, full, and imposing; it wasn't until I was standing in the middle of them with my clippers that I realized what horrible shape they were in. There were lots of dead branches, dying leaves and vines choking the trunks. Several hours later they were virtually chopped to the ground and I stood staring at the front of our house. It looked SO big and open. Better than I could have envisioned and I was so excited to fill in those once shadowed gardens with flowers and plants.

And as excited as I was outside I couldn't imagine what it would change on the inside of our home. The front rooms (my office and the dining room) while nice rooms have seemed dark and less welcoming then the rest of the house. We used them, but honestly have not really enjoyed them or figured out how to live in them. With the boxwoods gone, the light pours in. The brightly colored walls and rugs take on new hues and I linger at my desk, and we even sat and talked at the dining room table after a meal!

One person even said, "I wouldn't have had the imagination to visualize what it would look like with them gone, but I love it!"

As I have begun to ponder the boxwoods I began to think of my own life...my own boxwoods.

What am I holding on to because I can't visualize life without it?

Are there things that are overgrown in my life?

Things that look healthy to a passerby, but are actually dead and gnarled underneath?

Things that are blocking out the light and prohibiting new growth?

Last year was a season of great loss and sadness in my life -- my aunt was deathly ill, we sold our old house (as the neighborhood became someplace we didn't want to raise our children), I had a couple of health scares and the end of year was marked with my Aunt's death and funeral. I had hoped (and prayed) that God would begin filling me up this year...filling in the holes left my months of stress and sadness.

Not quite. Instead, He is continuing to prune, work and dig in my soul. As though the season from last year prepared my heart for His Holy gardening gloves to do their work.

But in light of the boxwoods, I now view this season a little differently.

Can you imagine the change in my soul when these overgrown, dead things are cleared out and His light shines through? I can't, truthfully...and perhaps that's why I have never let go of the habits and thoughts...I couldn't visualize life without them. But He could.

So now I ask you...do you have any boxwoods? Don't know? Can't visualize life beyond where it is now? I urge you to ask Him to point out the things in your life that inhibit your growth and His light. Throw your arms open and ask Him to go to work!

Father, I long for a safe, comfortable life, but I know that is not what brings You glory and it is not what draws me closer to You. And what I want is more of You to pour in me until I overflow...if You have to rip my boxwoods out to let that happen I am ready and willing, and so thankful that You are able and You already know the woman You want me to become...I can't wait to be her.

In Search of Friends

In her final moments, they were with her. After weeks of cleaning her home, doing her laundry, administering her medication, cooking for her and so much more they sacrificed sleep and comfort zones to hold her hand as death knocked. They weren't her sisters, hired help or nurses...they were her friends.

Even in my grief I was aware of how well these women had loved my aunt. And in the days and weeks since Kriss's death I have marveled at what she built in life. Any Saturday Kriss could be found at a soccer game or birthday party for her friends children. Her life centered around the people she loved.  She lived life with them -- shopping, eating, supporting...giving of herself. She invested wholly in the people she loved and they felt every ounce of it.

One truth has come glaringly into focus for me. I don't have friends. Not friends like that. I have some girlfriends who I study with, go out to eat with now and then, but I don't have the kind of friends who would put their lives on hold to help me fight the demons at the door (be they cancer, depression or sudden emergency).

Why?

Why?

I don't invest in my friendships the way I should. I spend much of life in competition with other women; many of whom don't even know my name...let alone that I'm determined to win at what I perceive they are good at. "My children are more obedient than hers" (go ahead dare to think that thought...your children will then proceed to melt down in Target screaming and throwing things). "I need to go shopping so I can look as cute and put together as she does." "My husband holds my hand too, but I wish we looked that in love." "Before the ladies come over next week, I need to get some fresh flowers for the bathroom so my house looks like one from the magazines." I spend so much time letting my insecurities steer my life that I have been missing something incredible.

Those children who are melting down; their mother looks tired and sad, perhaps I can pray for her and offer her a small smile. You know the kind of look that says "hang in there, I understand." There's no woman with a put together house or outfit that isn't covering up the same brokenness I am. And no marriage is perfect or without moments of disconnect, instead of caring how we look on Sunday morning, I need to invest in our quiet moments at home that are the foundation for our life together.

You know what I really missed, though? Friendship.

I wait for people to call me or choose to send them a little message on Facebook. I don't reach out. I'm not vulnerable. I want to wait for someone to invest in me fully before I invest in them at all. You know what that equals...loneliness.

I'm a women's ministry leader, I love women! I want them to make incredible friendships that grow in God. I want them to learn to trust each other and understand that God designed us to be relational...we are meant to have friends. But more than that we are meant to BE a friend. I need that women's ministry as much as anyone else!

So, in the months that I have been wading through grief for the loss of one of my closest friends, my Aunt, I've learned a lot from her. I've been trying to pick up the phone more. To reach out. To offer to help. To let down my guard. To learn to be the friend that Kriss was.

In a little less than a month we will be officially kicking off our Women's Ministry for Mountain View Community Church (my amazing church home). We are in the midst of planning an incredible night of food, fun and teaching for our women. But there is some personal prep going on in my home...I'm getting ready to just be me. If I trip walking across the stage, well then I can't be any more me! If I'm not the most put together cutie there, that's okay, I can compliment the other women on their outfits. I pray that God allows me to leave my walls and baggage at home and just go meet His girls; the women He's placed in the next pew or around the block for a reason.

I'm going in search of friends (wow, not in the weird stalkerish way that sounded...in a sweet kinda way!!).