Praise the Lord. Really?

It's been a crummy day so far.
Not enough sleep.
Whiny, tired, teething, feverish baby.
Bored, tired, grumpy, demotivated, unemployed husband.
Messy house.
No really good-sounding options for dinner.
Too many bills.

The morning started off promising, though. I got up at 7:30 to let the dog drink out of the toilet for (I promise) 3 minutes straight. Since I was awake anyway, I got up and got coffee and had a quiet time, doing my Bible study homework. I love that.

During my quiet time, it rained a downpour for about 15 minutes; it sounded like biblical flood-like pouring. It's been dry since then, and kind of cloudy, so the house hasn't gotten as hot as it has on other days. I love that.

Then I had almost 2 hours before the cute one got up. I love that, too.

And then the cranky baby's teeth started hurting, and she stopped being cheerful, and only wanted to nurse, and only wanted my undivided attention, and only wanted to be held, and only wanted to feed herself without any of my help, and only wanted to be miserable. Not a big fan of that.

And then it got to be lunch time. And after lunch time. And way past lunch time. And still the cranky baby wouldn't nap. And tired, dehydrated, hungry cranky mommy goes into "huffy silent mode" in which no words are spoken, but everything else is done too loudly, in an attempt to get demotivated husband to stop playing video games and help. No one is a fan of any of that.

The kid finally goes to bed, so faint and starving mommy can eat lunch. And record all the bills that are due. And wonder how we can pay them. And find a rebate check from the credit card dividends! Praise the Lord, that will cover almost the phone/internet and the water bills!

Depressed husband comes out and says the only non-career-path job he's considering would only be part time, and would pay about the same as the unemployment benefits that are not enough for us anyway. And says maybe he'll never get to work in the field he wants to. Not a big fan of that, either.

And baby wakes up, squealing at the cat, and dinner is not even started. And tired, stressed out mom wonders if we'll make it between now and bedtime.

And what did I read this morning, when the day started off so nicely?

⁸ The LORD is gracious and compassionate,
slow to anger and rich in love.

⁹ The LORD is good to all;
he has compassion on all he has made.

¹⁰ All you have made will praise you, O LORD;
your saints will extol you.

¹¹ They will tell of the glory of your kingdom
and speak of your might,

¹² so that all men may know of your mighty acts
and the glorious splendor of your kingdom.

¹³ Your kingdom is an everlasting kingdom,
and your dominion endures through all generations.
The LORD is faithful to all his promises
and loving toward all he has made.

¹⁴ The LORD upholds all those who fall
and lifts up all who are bowed down.

¹⁵ The eyes of all look to you,
and you give them their food at the proper time.

¹⁶ You open your hand
and satisfy the desires of every living thing.

¹⁷ The LORD is righteous in all his ways
and loving toward all he has made.

¹⁸ The LORD is near to all who call on him,
to all who call on him in truth.

¹⁹ He fulfills the desires of those who fear him;
he hears their cry and saves them.

(Psalm 145, NIV, emphasis mine)

How can I not be thankful for a God who not only knows where we are, but cares? How can I stay in an ugly funk like this all day, instead of praising the Lord? How can I forget so quickly that he "lifts up all who are bowed down"?

Praise the Lord!

All things...

While driving on Sunday evening, on the way to the 3rd week of our Believing God Bible study, I was reminded of this verse:

"All things are permissible, but not all things are beneficial."

I had not thought of it nor read it in a long time, so it had to be the Holy Spirit who dropped it into my mind. Honestly, I don't know exactly where it is, but I feel like it's in one of the Corinthian letters, since Paul was talking to some pretty fleshly people (you know, like me and many of us). And I was in the middle of some sort of lively complaint about how thoughtless some people I live with can be, and how sorry I am for myself. Poor me, I just try to do all the things that have to be done, and no one cares. Suddenly this sentence came to me, and I was convicted. I couldn't get it out of my head, either. I have been meditating on it for a couple of days now, and I am believing it is affecting my thinking.

All things are permissible.

It means there's no condemnation for anything I do. It means there is freedom in Christ. It means I can do anything, go anywhere, eat anything, drink anything, listen to anything, watch anything, use my time and resources in any way, practice my faith in any way. I am allowed. It means I don't have to let anyone else judge me--or let their judgment of me have any effect, at least.

But not all things are beneficial.

I am allowed to goof off on the computer, but is it beneficial? I am allowed to stay up until 1 AM reading my library book, but is it beneficial? I am allowed to eat cupcakes for breakfast, but is it beneficial? I have been asking myself if something is beneficial quite a lot lately. And there are many variations on that question: Beneficial to whom? Is it the most beneficial? Is it beneficial to my spiritual development?

May my decisions be based more often on what is beneficial, not on what is permissible.

Scaling Back

It's time I took a realistic view of my addiction. That's why I am limiting my access to facebook to only once a day. Yes, seriously. I even logged out, so if I absentmindedly click on the bookmarked link at another time today, I have to go to the trouble of remembering my password and logging back in. That should make me think twice about it.

Peace out, facebook.

It's party time!

Tomorrow is Lizzie's little first birthday party. It was originally going to be something small and simple, and it has evolved into something much larger than it should have ever been. But it will be a lot of fun, and we'll all be blessed.

I am up and at 'em this morning to work on my "Believing God" home work (and enjoy my coffee (Company girl and the real stuff) before embarking on as much cleaning and food preparation as I can stand.

This is what we're having for dinner for the meal, along with mac & cheese, and cupcakes.

http://simplyrecipes.com/recipes/pulled_pork_sandwich/
I've made it multiple times before, but this will be the first time I make it for 20-some odd people. I have a 9 lb butt roast, and a huge crock pot. Anyone have suggestions while I'm about to give it a try?

I need to get up so I don't waste my morning on the computer. If you want to read deep reflections of my heart you can read the previous post. It's long, but it was good for me to write it.

Camp of Champions Changed my Life

Next week my brother is borrowing our Suburban to transport youth from our church to Mississippi for Camp of Champions. As I was pulling the miscellaneous baby paraphernalia that had landed there over the past several months, I got thinking about the drive to and from, and about the weeks I've spent there, and about the many ways the event has impacted my life and the lives of hundreds of others. I let myself remember the giddy feeling of preparing for camp. What will it be like this year? What will God do? Who will be there?

COC was founded 21 (right?) years ago, with a couple dozen youth. Now registration is maxed out at 130, on a first come, first served basis. And that is only at one campus; there are COC TX and COC Lincoln (in Costa Rica). There has been talk over the years of a COC OH and COC PA and who knows how many others in recent years now that I have been out of the direct COC loop.

The first COC I attended was in 1997. I was 16. My family had just moved to Atlanta, and we had left all our friends up north. We started attending our church in May, and the youth group was going to camp in June. There I learned that I could make some awesome friends so I wouldn't have to be homesick. I also enjoyed a depth of the presence of God that I had never known. I had experienced moments in various meetings or encounters on my own with Him before, but there in southern Mississippi, the taste of the reality of God's nearness and goodness and His purpose for my life has affected me ever since. Worship became a joyful expression of gratitude and awe. Prayer was a conversation. The Bible had words in it that could pierce my very soul, bringing revelation and comfort. Unity in a community of believers was manifest. Purpose and passion for the things of God were lived out in the examples of the counselors and staff. My heart grasped hold of this hope: A life of faith that has reality in it is possible. And it could be my life.

The format is simple enough: junior high and high school students (and those going into college) are divided into teams with a captain and co-captain. There is almost a mathematical equation to the way the teams are constructed--from different churches, at different ages, and different athletic skill. Kids come from all around the region, most of them from a group of churches loosely connected through their pastoral leadership. During the week that team competes in sports, team skits, a talent show, memory verse quotation, and completion of tasks like cleaning the dorms or sports fields. Points are awarded or deducted, and the winning team goes home with a trophy. Every morning high value is placed on 30 minutes of quiet time, "one-on-one with Jesus," then followed by breakfast (along with announcements, cheers, and the typical camp counselor silliness) then a short chapel service and sports. Then lunch, more sports, and free time. Showering had never been so coveted as during free time when we could clean up and rest in the cool dorms. After that, we'd gather for supper, do our daily team clean-up project, and go to the evening chapel service. That is when the fire fell. We prayed, sang, listened, wept, and rejoiced; so many of us--campers and staff alike--were broken, delivered, saved, renewed, and challenged.

That first year, we drove home in a thunderstorm, and for the first time since early childhood I was so captivated by the majesty of rain and lightening. I was so grateful for air conditioning in that van. I was challenged by the driver's reflections on the week and what he saw in those of us who were riding home with him and his wife. I saw Atlanta's huge, sparkling skyline for the first time when we drove through at night. All of it was seen through eyes that had been given new lenses, with appreciation for the beauty and creativity of the world around me, of the life I had been given to live. I was so excited and peaceful at the same time.

Over the years, I attended at least 15 camps. Maybe 16, but I can't remember. However many, I have all but one of the t-shirts to prove it. I attended as a camper for 3 years, and as a staff member for the remaining 9. I was baptized in the lake where we had sea weed fights during the "Octathalon." While pacing the asphalt around midnight in front of the Bluebird Chapel, and after years of frustration and doubt regarding it, I finally received my prayer language. In the poor, dusty neighborhoods of Uvalde, TX, I got over my fear of offering prayer to someone whose eyes are filled with tears because of the kindness of a group of kids. I have made friends who are as close as family, and with whom I would be honored to call friends for the rest of my life. I met my husband while I was in Texas, meeting up with a group of some of those friends I had met and served beside at camp. Two years ago at the last camp I attended outside of San Antonio, Texas, God gave me Lizzie's middle name, Hosanna. I guess I should have known she would be a girl.

Many years ago, when "making the camp video" was a running joke among those of us in the greater camp community, there have been several celebrities who have been coerced to say on camera, "Camp of Champions changed my life!" so that they could be inserted into the annual camp highlights video. Those people never actually attended, but it was always fun to get them to make a cameo appearance from some dark backstage room, saying that their lives were changed. But in all honesty, had I not been given the opportunity to attend these events, my life would not have been the same.

Happy Birthday, Sweet Girl!

What a difference a year makes.

June 8, 2009



June 8, 2010


I love you, little girl.

"the cares of this life"

Yesterday morning I glanced at my copy of The Daily Light devotional so that I could say I at least looked at a bit of scripture that day. (The link takes you to the exact reading that comes up for June 3.)

The verse that caught my eye was this one:
"Take heed to yourselves, lest your hearts be weighed down with carousing, drunkenness, and cares of this life, and that Day come on you unexpectedly." (Luke 21:34)

Of course, carousing and drunkenness are not necessarily my weaknesses, but being weighed down by the cares of this life? Yes, I can get caught in that.

As an aside, when I looked up a different version of this passage, the word used in place of "carousing" was actually "dissipation," an archaic word from the 15th century, but is the noun form of "dissipate". I know about feeling like my day, energy, and focus has completely "dissipated." And it's not anyone else's fault, so maybe it does apply to me more than I'd originally thought.

Back on track.

I appreciate that Jesus said that our hearts can be weighed down by caring about the "stuff" of life, just as much as other sins that can be detrimental to our souls. So yesterday morning I made the conscious choice to not be worried about "what we shall eat or what we shall wear, for our heavenly Father knows we have need of these things."

The providence of God is amazing. No sooner had I read that and put the baby down for a nap than I discovered that I'd missed a phone call from Sam. Since I had both hands free for the first time all morning, I called him right back.

"Well, they laid me off."

I have to confess, I had a kind of sick feeling in my stomach when he said that. However, as we talked, we both had faith rise in our hearts. We had been expecting this, since he has graduated and the internship is really only as long as he was in school. The really strange part about it was that they had offered him a job last week and gave him a few days to consider it, but before they asked him whether he wanted to take the job, they gave him a separation notice. That was pretty low. The job they'd offered him would have required 300 miles of commuting each day so it would not have been ideal at all, but ... well, I won't say anything more about it.

As strange as it sounds, we are encouraged this week. This is a very obviously closed door. Up until a week ago, this job was a very real possibility, albeit a sort of job that would end up going nowhere. Now it is not an option anymore, so Sam must look elsewhere. We are praying that they will give him a new separation letter saying that it was due to 'lack of work' so that he will be able to collect unemployment.

There have been a few people who have offered already to give Sam's resume to their companies. We are praying those contacts are solid and come back with job offers. We are also praying that the next job he gets will be something that is a significant step toward a career, that will allow him to be a parent and a husband, and that will meet our financial needs. We are also praying that it does not require a relocation, but if we must move, then we can do that, too.

No, we do not really know how we will pay our bills in the next couple of months. But we trust the Lord. He is our provider; a corporation is not our provider. Granted, we do hope that very soon a particular corporation will be God's instrument to provide a regular paycheck, though!