We hear all the time about how we should have the faith of a mustard seed. Just the faith of a little seed and we can move mountains. (Matthew 17:20 ) So many times though, our faith sits, stagnant and doesn't grow.
I've just returned from Zambia, Africa. That has been my biggest step of faith ever. While I was preparing for my trip I kept praying about that faith of a mustard seed. "Lord, help me overcome my unbelief." (Mark 9:24) I knew I was going to a volatile place and knew I had to be on my A-game. No second guessing once I got there. Zambia has forever changed me, just like I was told it would. The people will forever be in my thoughts and prayers, even if I don't know if I'll see them again this side of heaven. For a long time I've been growing my fruits of the spirit but could never find my joy because of past hurts. But now, I have found my joy and I am swimming in the sea of that joy.
Back to the mustard seed, we always hear about that seed. How just a little faith and we can move the mountains in our lives. But have you ever thought about what it means to be a seed? Or the faith of a seed? Ask any gardener, if you sit a seed, any seed, in a jar, up on a shelf, it will do nothing. When we let our faith sit, it will do nothing. No growing. In order for our faith to grow, we as seeds, have to be planted and guess what, WE HAVE TO GET DIRTY! We can't grow our faith sitting in our living rooms, in our fake plastic lives and expect our faith to grow. We have to put ourselves out there- in the dirt of life, in the "fertilizer," in order to have any chance of growing. The more dirt, the better that seed is going to grow. Put a seed in a small pot, with dirt, on your porch, it can only grow so big. Put the same seed in your backyard, add some living water, and bam! Instead of a small plant you now have a tree. We have to get dirty. In order for our faith to grow, to where God wants our faith to grow, there has to be dirt.
So where's the dirt in your life? What is your comfort zone that you're sitting in, making excuses for your faith not growing? Are you sitting in that plastic life and complaining because you just don't feel close to God? Why aren't you out there, getting dirty for Him?!
I'm not just talking about Zambia, or even missions. We all have a calling and not everyone is called to love on the people of Africa the way I have been. But what about the people you see everyday who are hurting? What about your neighbor, your sister, your friend? There is someone in your life God is calling you to love, but you sit back and are scared of getting dirty, scared of getting hurt, scared of the "what if's."
If you ever want to grow in your faith to the level you see in others you have to step out. You have to find yourself firmly planted in Him, letting the dirt of life surround you and the living water fill you, if you ever, EVER, want to see the mountains in your life move.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Monday, February 9, 2009
For Such A Time As This...
"... For such a time as this." (Esther 4:14)
I've been thinking a lot lately about this little scripture from Esther. It's seemingly innocent, Mordecai's reply to Esther about what was going on in the kingdom, the Jewish people facing a threat on their lives.
I'm increasingly frustrated with the state of this world, this country. We have families struggling to survive. And I'm not talking about physically surviving. I'm talking about surviving as a family unit. Men, women and children are all being attacked. And we're completely clueless as a nation. We believe that we deserve all of this "stuff" just because we're Americans. Truthfully none of us deserves any of this. I don't deserve to be sitting in a four bedroom house with two bathrooms. Not when there are families all over the world living in one room huts.
I remember a few years ago having a pastor from Zambia over to our house. Hubby and I had been called to be full time missionaries and were in the beginning stages of planning our taking our family (only two kids at the time) to Zambia to help run an orphanage there. Pastor Chewe was nearing the end of his trip. He'd spent time with a lot of people from our church, all of whom were very well off. He'd been to their six bedroom, three story houses on the lake. And then we invited him to have supper with us at our little three bedroom ranch that we were renting. We mentioned feeling a little embarassed because our house was so humble compared to the other places he'd stayed. I remember him looking at us and saying "This would be a mansion where I live." We'd been so worried about how we compared to other Americans that we had forgotten about where our guest came from. He lived in a small hut. He'd lost his wife to the HIV/AIDS crisis in Africa. He, himself, was battling (and has since lost that battle) HIV and hepatitis.
I get caught up in the keeping up with the Jones's. Hubby and I are both very guilty of it. And so now are our kids. Every once in awhile though I have these moments of clarity, or maybe extremeism. I get so frustrated by the views of a lot of Americans that I want to sell everything and move to a little hut in the woods somewhere. My own little uni-bomber type shack. I want to just cut myself from all of the outside world. I've even thought about converting to Amish just so I coule move into their communities.
Then I hear that still, small voice whisper to me.... "For such a time as this." God could have created me at any point in history. He could have made me back in the days of Christ. I could have been one of those that perished when Noah's flood came. I could have been created in the days of Little House on the Prairie. But instead, God wanted to make me now. He knew that He could use me here, now. He doesn't want me to go running and hiding, avoiding all contact with people. He wants me to live in this world, making a difference for Him. He wants me to use the tools we've been blessed with to do His work. I can use email for good. I can use TV for good. I can use my skills and talents here. Now. I'm not called to be timid. 2 Timothy says that as a believer in Christ I have been called to have a spirit of power, of love and of self discipline.
I've got the love thing down, though I could always use help. I struggle with loving those that don't love me. And I struggle with worrying what people think about me.
Power and self-discipline. Well that's just a different story altogether. Too often I let my flesh get the best of my body. I eat more than I should. Or drink more coffee than I should. I get frustrated and lash out in anger, instead of in love. (Guess I don't have that love thing down afterall.) I spend more time on the computer than I should. Or watch things that aren't good for me to watch. I'm getting better at the power thing. I view that as standing up for what I know is right, even when it isn't the popular opinion. The problem there is that I sometimes get too opinionated. I've offended people with my political views. I'm working on finding that balance.
That's what it's all about though right. Living for Christ in a fallen world requires balance.
Lord, thank you for your wisdom. You created me for such a time as this. You created me to be here, in 2009. Please allow me to use the things You have blessed me with for Your glory. And only Your glory. Please help me get myself out of the way of You. I just want to be a tool, used for Your glory, reaching Your children for You.
I've been thinking a lot lately about this little scripture from Esther. It's seemingly innocent, Mordecai's reply to Esther about what was going on in the kingdom, the Jewish people facing a threat on their lives.
I'm increasingly frustrated with the state of this world, this country. We have families struggling to survive. And I'm not talking about physically surviving. I'm talking about surviving as a family unit. Men, women and children are all being attacked. And we're completely clueless as a nation. We believe that we deserve all of this "stuff" just because we're Americans. Truthfully none of us deserves any of this. I don't deserve to be sitting in a four bedroom house with two bathrooms. Not when there are families all over the world living in one room huts.
I remember a few years ago having a pastor from Zambia over to our house. Hubby and I had been called to be full time missionaries and were in the beginning stages of planning our taking our family (only two kids at the time) to Zambia to help run an orphanage there. Pastor Chewe was nearing the end of his trip. He'd spent time with a lot of people from our church, all of whom were very well off. He'd been to their six bedroom, three story houses on the lake. And then we invited him to have supper with us at our little three bedroom ranch that we were renting. We mentioned feeling a little embarassed because our house was so humble compared to the other places he'd stayed. I remember him looking at us and saying "This would be a mansion where I live." We'd been so worried about how we compared to other Americans that we had forgotten about where our guest came from. He lived in a small hut. He'd lost his wife to the HIV/AIDS crisis in Africa. He, himself, was battling (and has since lost that battle) HIV and hepatitis.
I get caught up in the keeping up with the Jones's. Hubby and I are both very guilty of it. And so now are our kids. Every once in awhile though I have these moments of clarity, or maybe extremeism. I get so frustrated by the views of a lot of Americans that I want to sell everything and move to a little hut in the woods somewhere. My own little uni-bomber type shack. I want to just cut myself from all of the outside world. I've even thought about converting to Amish just so I coule move into their communities.
Then I hear that still, small voice whisper to me.... "For such a time as this." God could have created me at any point in history. He could have made me back in the days of Christ. I could have been one of those that perished when Noah's flood came. I could have been created in the days of Little House on the Prairie. But instead, God wanted to make me now. He knew that He could use me here, now. He doesn't want me to go running and hiding, avoiding all contact with people. He wants me to live in this world, making a difference for Him. He wants me to use the tools we've been blessed with to do His work. I can use email for good. I can use TV for good. I can use my skills and talents here. Now. I'm not called to be timid. 2 Timothy says that as a believer in Christ I have been called to have a spirit of power, of love and of self discipline.
I've got the love thing down, though I could always use help. I struggle with loving those that don't love me. And I struggle with worrying what people think about me.
Power and self-discipline. Well that's just a different story altogether. Too often I let my flesh get the best of my body. I eat more than I should. Or drink more coffee than I should. I get frustrated and lash out in anger, instead of in love. (Guess I don't have that love thing down afterall.) I spend more time on the computer than I should. Or watch things that aren't good for me to watch. I'm getting better at the power thing. I view that as standing up for what I know is right, even when it isn't the popular opinion. The problem there is that I sometimes get too opinionated. I've offended people with my political views. I'm working on finding that balance.
That's what it's all about though right. Living for Christ in a fallen world requires balance.
Lord, thank you for your wisdom. You created me for such a time as this. You created me to be here, in 2009. Please allow me to use the things You have blessed me with for Your glory. And only Your glory. Please help me get myself out of the way of You. I just want to be a tool, used for Your glory, reaching Your children for You.
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
As the year comes to an end...
Just a quick little blog. Sitting on my grandmother in law's computer and it's as old as some of my kids... but I wanted to put some thoughts out in cyber world and off my mind.
Yesterday was December 29. Just another day for most. But for me, it was the day I was supposed to become a mother for the fifth time. Yesterday was the due date for the baby we lost back in May. I never thought that a baby I didn't plan (not that any of my other four have been planned) and never met could be missed so much. But I've wiped quite a few tears away the last few days thinking about that baby. I also have been thinking about the other mothers of Christmas. What mothers are those you say? Well the bible tells us that because Herod was so scared of losing his throne he put to death all baby boys under the age of two when he heard that Jesus had been born. We always think about Mary, Joseph and baby Jesus at Christmas. Perfectly clean, in a clean world, never having to worry or be scared. This year though, my heart still fresh with a pain I never thought I would know, my thoughts have turned to the mothers who had to hand their babies over to King Herod's men, to be killed. Babies that were ripped from their mothers arms, just because they happened to be born at the wrong time. I can empathize now. How many of those mothers wished they had been the ones that were taken instead? How many of them, faithful God-fearing Jewish women, questionned God in their time of pain and anguish?
Back when I first lost the baby a good friend called to check on me. All I remember of that conversation (besides the appreciation that the topic wasn't avoided) was when he said the scripture in Job I've repeated to myself many times... "He (God) gives and takes away." I won't pretend to understand why God allowed me to get pregnant, just to take the baby away again. Could I have needed to be taught more on pain? More about submitting myself to God's plan? I've repeated that scripture to myself many times since that day in May. Every time I hear the song with those lyrics I can't sing out loud, for fear of losing myself into a hysterical puddle of crying goo.
In my Earth centered body, trying to focus on heaven, I like to paint a little picture. It's of my Dad, who was killed when I was twelve, holding that little baby we lost. (I imagine the baby as a boy.) He never got to meet any of his grandchildren. And maybe, just maybe, God wanted to give my Daddy a special gift I couldn't give him. I named my first son after him, but I couldn't give him the gift of being the first to hold one of his grandchildren. So maybe, in heaven, my Daddy is sitting in a rocking chair, surrounded by all the other people I've lost in my life, holding my little baby... rocking him, holding him close, singing to him and thinking about me.
I'm trying to heal this pain, but there are times when the pain seems so fresh, like the day I after, when I woke up and remembered I wasn't pregnant anymore. I'm trying.
He gives and takes away... but Lord, BLESSED be YOUR name!!!
Yesterday was December 29. Just another day for most. But for me, it was the day I was supposed to become a mother for the fifth time. Yesterday was the due date for the baby we lost back in May. I never thought that a baby I didn't plan (not that any of my other four have been planned) and never met could be missed so much. But I've wiped quite a few tears away the last few days thinking about that baby. I also have been thinking about the other mothers of Christmas. What mothers are those you say? Well the bible tells us that because Herod was so scared of losing his throne he put to death all baby boys under the age of two when he heard that Jesus had been born. We always think about Mary, Joseph and baby Jesus at Christmas. Perfectly clean, in a clean world, never having to worry or be scared. This year though, my heart still fresh with a pain I never thought I would know, my thoughts have turned to the mothers who had to hand their babies over to King Herod's men, to be killed. Babies that were ripped from their mothers arms, just because they happened to be born at the wrong time. I can empathize now. How many of those mothers wished they had been the ones that were taken instead? How many of them, faithful God-fearing Jewish women, questionned God in their time of pain and anguish?
Back when I first lost the baby a good friend called to check on me. All I remember of that conversation (besides the appreciation that the topic wasn't avoided) was when he said the scripture in Job I've repeated to myself many times... "He (God) gives and takes away." I won't pretend to understand why God allowed me to get pregnant, just to take the baby away again. Could I have needed to be taught more on pain? More about submitting myself to God's plan? I've repeated that scripture to myself many times since that day in May. Every time I hear the song with those lyrics I can't sing out loud, for fear of losing myself into a hysterical puddle of crying goo.
In my Earth centered body, trying to focus on heaven, I like to paint a little picture. It's of my Dad, who was killed when I was twelve, holding that little baby we lost. (I imagine the baby as a boy.) He never got to meet any of his grandchildren. And maybe, just maybe, God wanted to give my Daddy a special gift I couldn't give him. I named my first son after him, but I couldn't give him the gift of being the first to hold one of his grandchildren. So maybe, in heaven, my Daddy is sitting in a rocking chair, surrounded by all the other people I've lost in my life, holding my little baby... rocking him, holding him close, singing to him and thinking about me.
I'm trying to heal this pain, but there are times when the pain seems so fresh, like the day I after, when I woke up and remembered I wasn't pregnant anymore. I'm trying.
He gives and takes away... but Lord, BLESSED be YOUR name!!!
Monday, November 10, 2008
Truth in Love
So, on my recent cross country trek I had a lot of time to think. I mean, once you OOO and AAHH over the scenery for half an hour, it all starts to look the same. So that brought on some time to think and reflect.
I've been thinking and praying a lot on the term "Speaking the truth in love." (Ephesians 4:15)
I always wondered how one does that exactly. Some things can't be said lovingly. The people in the south have figured out a way to lessen the blow a bit by following everything harsh with "Bless Her Heart." It's not the same though as speaking the truth in love.
I've been praying about my witness, praying to show me if I've been harsh in this way, feeling justified of my words because of the other person being a Christian. Then it hit me, as clear as the sun outside (not in Washington LOL). It's all about relationship, just like everything Jesus taught. You take the time, building a relationship with someone. You learn to trust them and love them. You learn that they're standing firm on the solid rock of Jesus. You see them walking everyday with Him. And then, only then, is when the truth can be spoken in love. You build the relationship in brotherly love and can speak the truth.
I'm learning to distinguish truth from the lies of Satan in my everyday conversation. Satan tells me I'm worthless, that I'm a horrible mother. God tells me that He can see how much I love my children in the way we play together, or sing songs in the car in silly voices. He shines light on my flaws, but He doesn't attack me with lies. His word is truth. I'm learning to listen only to the voices that speak truth into my life. I'm also realizing the concept of quality over quantity of friends. I don't have to speak to someone everyday, or see someone everyday. If they are truly my friend they will love me and be praying for me even without the daily contact. I'm concentrating on hearing God's voice through the people He has blessed me with... my husband, my children and a few select (less than 10) friends whose words have spoken truth to my heart.
Most of those friends (except two) are back in Washington. That makes it so hard to start again here. I know though that those people, the ones who are truly my friends, will love me unconditionally, even 3000 miles away. These are the people who love me, love my kids, my husband and even my dog. These are the people who love me even though I'm a die hard Republican and they're die hard Democrats. (We just don't talk about it. LOL) They're the people that have gone to the ER with me. They're the ones that have helped me fold laundry, instead of just avoiding coming into my house. They're the ones who have taken my kids when I needed a little break. They've shown up on my doorstep with coffee when I needed it most. They're the ones that when I didn't have my husband to ask biblical questions of were willing to stand in the gap and answer my weekly silly questions. They're the ones who laugh over things like grits, Chick-Fil-A and The Wal Mart in an accent that is not anywhere near southern, but somehow we both found (and only use with each other). Like I said, they love me unconditionally. They can speak truth to me anytime.
I know that we've been moved here as part of God's plan for our life. I'm so scared though that I can't possibly find the kind of friends I left behind in Washington. But then I'm reminded of Jeremiah 29:11... "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." My hope is to be in Him. And if He has taken us all the way across the country He has something amazing in store for us. Somewhere out there in Georgia and Alabama God has people that need the kind of love I've been shown. I just have to choose to Believe His Truth because He Loves Me. :D
I've been thinking and praying a lot on the term "Speaking the truth in love." (Ephesians 4:15)
I always wondered how one does that exactly. Some things can't be said lovingly. The people in the south have figured out a way to lessen the blow a bit by following everything harsh with "Bless Her Heart." It's not the same though as speaking the truth in love.
I've been praying about my witness, praying to show me if I've been harsh in this way, feeling justified of my words because of the other person being a Christian. Then it hit me, as clear as the sun outside (not in Washington LOL). It's all about relationship, just like everything Jesus taught. You take the time, building a relationship with someone. You learn to trust them and love them. You learn that they're standing firm on the solid rock of Jesus. You see them walking everyday with Him. And then, only then, is when the truth can be spoken in love. You build the relationship in brotherly love and can speak the truth.
I'm learning to distinguish truth from the lies of Satan in my everyday conversation. Satan tells me I'm worthless, that I'm a horrible mother. God tells me that He can see how much I love my children in the way we play together, or sing songs in the car in silly voices. He shines light on my flaws, but He doesn't attack me with lies. His word is truth. I'm learning to listen only to the voices that speak truth into my life. I'm also realizing the concept of quality over quantity of friends. I don't have to speak to someone everyday, or see someone everyday. If they are truly my friend they will love me and be praying for me even without the daily contact. I'm concentrating on hearing God's voice through the people He has blessed me with... my husband, my children and a few select (less than 10) friends whose words have spoken truth to my heart.
Most of those friends (except two) are back in Washington. That makes it so hard to start again here. I know though that those people, the ones who are truly my friends, will love me unconditionally, even 3000 miles away. These are the people who love me, love my kids, my husband and even my dog. These are the people who love me even though I'm a die hard Republican and they're die hard Democrats. (We just don't talk about it. LOL) They're the people that have gone to the ER with me. They're the ones that have helped me fold laundry, instead of just avoiding coming into my house. They're the ones who have taken my kids when I needed a little break. They've shown up on my doorstep with coffee when I needed it most. They're the ones that when I didn't have my husband to ask biblical questions of were willing to stand in the gap and answer my weekly silly questions. They're the ones who laugh over things like grits, Chick-Fil-A and The Wal Mart in an accent that is not anywhere near southern, but somehow we both found (and only use with each other). Like I said, they love me unconditionally. They can speak truth to me anytime.
I know that we've been moved here as part of God's plan for our life. I'm so scared though that I can't possibly find the kind of friends I left behind in Washington. But then I'm reminded of Jeremiah 29:11... "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." My hope is to be in Him. And if He has taken us all the way across the country He has something amazing in store for us. Somewhere out there in Georgia and Alabama God has people that need the kind of love I've been shown. I just have to choose to Believe His Truth because He Loves Me. :D
Monday, October 20, 2008
Words Hurt
So tonight my oldest daughter said something to me that hurt so much I can't even type it. I sent her to bed right away because I didn't even know how else to handle the words she spoke. I don't know how to put this kind of thing behind me. The words hurt enough that I don't think I can "forgive and forget." Ugh. What to do....
For now... I'm going to pray.
For now... I'm going to pray.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Got Hope?
So I was driving along somewhere yesterday. Honestly, I don't remember where, since most of my trips are spent in odd conversation with children. Anyway, I saw a bumper sticker that read "Got Hope?" I thought to myself.... What a cool Christian sticker! Then as I got closer I saw the fine print. (There's always fine print isn't there?) It wasn't a Christian sticker at all. It was a sticker for Barack Obama. And in that moment my heart sank as I realized our county is moving rapidly forward to putting their faith not in the God of the universe, but in a man. This has nothing to do with how I feel about Mr. Obama as a candidate. (Side note- if you're going to talk against the Iraq war you should actually talk to the people who have been there, not listen to a bunch of career politicians whose only care is to get themselves reelected. That's all I'll say about the presedential election.)
As a country we've bought into this idea of hope in a man. It's a false hope. We're placing our hopes in a man to change the country. This is a country that for the past fifty years has completely turned our backs on the true source of hope. Our founding fathers knew that source of hope, but we have turned away, not wanting to offend anyone. Instead, we've made it okay to be anything except a Christian, caucasian working class man who likes women. Gay? It's okay because God made you that way (even though in every other area the same people saying they were created this way are denouncing the Creator Himself). Child Molester? Yep, that's okay too because you must have had a crappy childhood. Been given a bad medical prognosis? It's okay to kill yourself. Unwanted pregnancy? It's okay to kill the baby. Sentenced to death row because you've committed the most heinous of crimes? Nope- not okay to kill you. Been mistreated in a military prison because you were plotting against our country? Nope- that's bad too.
We've become a country full of hypocrites. We've placed our hope in the empty promises of a man. (And yes, I believe both candidates are just trying to say what they have to in order to get themselved in office. I am voting based on past performance and a few key issues important to my faith and my family.)
The only thing that is giving me comfort is the scripture that says God's will WILL be done. The people in office get there because God wants them there to support His will. I'm just thinking Jesus may be coming soon.
(I know this seems a bit extreme, but I'm very angry that a man that claims to be Christian would ask for anyone's hope to be put in anyone except Jesus Christ Himself.)
As a country we've bought into this idea of hope in a man. It's a false hope. We're placing our hopes in a man to change the country. This is a country that for the past fifty years has completely turned our backs on the true source of hope. Our founding fathers knew that source of hope, but we have turned away, not wanting to offend anyone. Instead, we've made it okay to be anything except a Christian, caucasian working class man who likes women. Gay? It's okay because God made you that way (even though in every other area the same people saying they were created this way are denouncing the Creator Himself). Child Molester? Yep, that's okay too because you must have had a crappy childhood. Been given a bad medical prognosis? It's okay to kill yourself. Unwanted pregnancy? It's okay to kill the baby. Sentenced to death row because you've committed the most heinous of crimes? Nope- not okay to kill you. Been mistreated in a military prison because you were plotting against our country? Nope- that's bad too.
We've become a country full of hypocrites. We've placed our hope in the empty promises of a man. (And yes, I believe both candidates are just trying to say what they have to in order to get themselved in office. I am voting based on past performance and a few key issues important to my faith and my family.)
The only thing that is giving me comfort is the scripture that says God's will WILL be done. The people in office get there because God wants them there to support His will. I'm just thinking Jesus may be coming soon.
(I know this seems a bit extreme, but I'm very angry that a man that claims to be Christian would ask for anyone's hope to be put in anyone except Jesus Christ Himself.)
Saturday, October 11, 2008
Been working on some things this week. Readjusting my focus. Taking off my "Me" tinted glasses and opting for the God-tinted ones instead.
Why is it that when you start to work on yourself, truly make the effort to become more Christ like, people in your life whine about it? I mean, they're not saying, "You shouldn't try to be more Christ like." But they whine about what that means to them, how my changing effects their lives. Just doesn't seem right. I get enough whining from my children. I don't need to add anyone more whining to my day. Too much to ask?
Working on finding the balance between choosing forgiveness and being walked on or hurt. Even though I've chosen to forgive a certain person, do I still have to be nice? Yes. I have to be nice. I do not have to go out of my way to put myself in a situation where person X will hurt me again though. I just have to be polite. Speak when spoken to. Try desperately not to judge. (I'm speaking of one person and one incident. I know this theory wouldn't work in every situation.) Like someone told me, I don't have to be friends with this person just because they're also a Christian. So, working on politeness and being nonjudgemental towards X.
Been sifting through pictures lately. I am so glad that the hair that was so popular in the late 80's and early 90's is no longer in style. Seriously. What were we thinking? Curious (or just need a really good laugh today)?
Yeah. That's me. Circa 1989. Freshman year in high school. Man, I was hot! Um, yeah, not so much.
Been thinking a lot about things past. The pictures, our 10th anniversary, the things God has been bringing out, Halloween coming up... everything is reminding me of things past. There's a song by Chris Rice that says something to the effect of- Why do we look back, is it because we know we survived? I think that covers it completely. I know I survived my father being killed when I was 12. I don't want to have to hurt like that ever again.
It's late and I think I've been rambling. So for tonight, I'm going to close this out.
Why is it that when you start to work on yourself, truly make the effort to become more Christ like, people in your life whine about it? I mean, they're not saying, "You shouldn't try to be more Christ like." But they whine about what that means to them, how my changing effects their lives. Just doesn't seem right. I get enough whining from my children. I don't need to add anyone more whining to my day. Too much to ask?
Working on finding the balance between choosing forgiveness and being walked on or hurt. Even though I've chosen to forgive a certain person, do I still have to be nice? Yes. I have to be nice. I do not have to go out of my way to put myself in a situation where person X will hurt me again though. I just have to be polite. Speak when spoken to. Try desperately not to judge. (I'm speaking of one person and one incident. I know this theory wouldn't work in every situation.) Like someone told me, I don't have to be friends with this person just because they're also a Christian. So, working on politeness and being nonjudgemental towards X.
Been sifting through pictures lately. I am so glad that the hair that was so popular in the late 80's and early 90's is no longer in style. Seriously. What were we thinking? Curious (or just need a really good laugh today)?
Yeah. That's me. Circa 1989. Freshman year in high school. Man, I was hot! Um, yeah, not so much.Been thinking a lot about things past. The pictures, our 10th anniversary, the things God has been bringing out, Halloween coming up... everything is reminding me of things past. There's a song by Chris Rice that says something to the effect of- Why do we look back, is it because we know we survived? I think that covers it completely. I know I survived my father being killed when I was 12. I don't want to have to hurt like that ever again.
It's late and I think I've been rambling. So for tonight, I'm going to close this out.
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