Favorably Fashioned

2007-03-25T09:28:00.000-05:00

I have always felt that God fashioned me for greatness. Not fame, recognition, power or wealth. But greatness. That is why, I think, I have always, always, struggled with mediocrity. Don't the greatest obstacles come to hinder us from our greatest purpose?

I was intended for greatness. Greatness in thought, in deed, in motherhood, in marriage...and here I am, with my two-year-old in the background playing rocketships, my husband just now in the shower three minutes later than I had wanted to leave for church, left feeling completely unsatisfied and unsatisfying.

I was fashioned for greatness, and that is a truth that I have always held firm to...I have always expected greatness in return. I have always felt a need, a yearn, an emptiness that could only be filled when I was so aware of my inability to reach that greatness without the reality of the cross. The reality of the cross.

I am fashioned for greatness, but I am the art of mediocrity.

Praise Him in this storm...

2006-04-18T22:31:00.000-05:00

Monday was tough. My family all went home, my husband was at work all day, and left to my own devices, I grieved the loss like I didn't know I could. It was strange, in the quiet, lonely time I had Monday, the heaviness I felt over JC's death. I wasn't his best friend, and I haven't seen him since probably graduation last year. But now that he's gone, there's a perpetual emptiness, like I will never see him, not at homecomings, at graduations, at alumni gatherings, at chance meetings.

So Tuesday, forced back into my routine, my grief was like a ghost...haunting me and popping up in the most random places...in a picture, a commercial, a song...then Casting Crowns came on the radio, this particular song:

I was sure by now

God You would have reached down

And wiped our tears away

And stepped in and saved the day

Once again, I say Amen, and it is still raining

As the thunder rollsI barely hear You whisper through the rain

"I'm with you"

As Your mercy falls

I raise my hands and praise the God who gives

And takes away

I'll praise you in this storm

And I will lift my hands

You are who You are

No matter where I am

And every tear I've cried

You hold in Your hand

You never left my side

And though my heart is torn

I will praise You in this storm

I remember when

I stumbled in the wind

You heard my cry

You raised me up again

My strength is almost gone

How can I carry on

If I can't find You

I lift my eyes into the hills

Where does my help come from

My help comes from the Lord

The Maker of heaven and earth

It's almost a guilty feeling I have when I suddenly feel at loss, my heart literally squeezing with hurt. Silly, I know...but...every tear I've cried...He holds in His hand...

Oh, JC, I love you and I wish I had the chance to tell you that again. See you soon...

A Tribute...

2006-04-17T15:30:00.000-05:00

JC died last Friday afternoon on his way home to Murfreesboro for the Easter weekend in a car crash. He was a member of InterVarsity Christian Fellowship when I was a member/worship leader back in my ol' MC days. (Sooo...long ago...) I heard yesterday evening during Easter dinner with my old roommate and her family.

I don't know what else to do. So...a tribute to Joseph Christian Hoehne.

JC wasn't everyone's favorite person. Most people, if he were alive, would probably even dare to call him annoying. That's just truth. He was a quirky fellow, and I'm not going to coat the past by saying I was super cool to him. There were days when, if I didn't have a lot of time between classes, I would turn hurriedly or duck into the closest building if I saw him rollerblading my way.

He was in my small group when I was a junior, and he was a freshman. My senior year, because I was a married mom, I didn't get out to IV too often. So my last consistent interaction with JC was during that junior year, during mine and Walden's engagement.

Now that he is gone, he is desperately missed, and not just because he died so young. He was the type of person who touches your heart and your life in a quiet, unexpected way. He was passionate about God and God's furious forgiveness. I think that was the part of God that JC clung desperately to and understood so intimately, because it was the message of hope for the unbelieving. God the Forgiver was enticing to those who have not yet gotten comfortable with God, Lord, Savior. And that was the heart of JC's evangelical spirit. He was truly gifted with evangelism, with a rare burden for those who had not yet encountered his Jesus.
I can't wrap my mind around the idea that he spent Easter Sunday with Jesus the Risen. JC, transformed into his glorious self, completely renewed, ready for eternity. All evidence of the crash he was in, steel and glass breaking his body and robbing his life, all scars, all faults, all holes, all shortcomings, misgivings, imperfections, annoying habits...melted away. JC, eternal, glorious, completely worthy of his place in Heaven, robed in the righteousness and glow of being forever in the presence of the Lord.

For JC, no more times of doubt, no more questions, no more wondering if the Lord is up to something. For JC, no more shame over his sins, no more grieving the Spirit, no more pain and anguish over life's burdens. For JC, eternity, stuck in perpetual praise-mode.
During my brief time as a worship leader (or, lead worshiper), I had the unique gift and purpose to usher InterVarsity goers into the Lord's presence, into a state of learning and awareness of God's voice. I had the privilege of being God's tool to open their hearts, minds, and ears to God, into a place of worship that did not end with the last song, but that lingered as we dug into His Word, peeling back layers of His Heart, discovering His plan, looking in as God revealed more of Himself. That was my gift from God to me, as was my gift of music to others. I can't even fathom that...wow...JC is now in that place as a state of being. That place that makes your head swim, your ears thunder, your heart grow, your soul expand, your hands rise, your knees fall, your gut churn, your mouth dry, your blood rush...before the great and mighty and powerful and tender God of the Universe...JC is there. And that place has no end for him.

For JC, so undoubtedly there, so unquestionably and irrevocably there. He is there now. And with heavy, heavy hearts, we can still hope and rejoice in his Life, the Life we all are intended for. Oh, the weight of glory, pulling at our hearts, tying us to this earthly realm, but filling us with the innate knowledge, the hidden sense, the undercover notion that we were created for immortality...

In his life and through his death JC was an arrow to the Lord. May his memory challenge us all to grasp onto this life with the hope and belief in the next...

This Easter Season

2006-04-14T12:16:00.000-05:00

Easter is called the cornerstone of Christianity. So as a Christian, I just wanted to ramble on during this important holiday. I just can't wrap my simple mind around the historical events that happened then. This guy Jesus goes around teaching and preaching things so different but so similar to what has always been taught. He goes around healing people, teaching tolerance and acceptance of ragamuffins, shattering boundaries, blowing minds, challenging prejudices...

I've been studying the timeline of Easter, from Palm Sunday to Easter Sunday. This is what I've found just reading the four gospels.

Palm Sunday, Jesus enters Jerusalem on the foal of an ass. They call this the triumphant entry. All the Jews have made the pilgrimage to Jerusalem for the Passover feast that will happen later in the week (Thursday). He enters the temple while people proclaim the truth of His identity, "Hosanna in the highest!" "Son of David!" These people are excited, thrilled that Jesus is in their presence. And as He enters, He specifically comes in on a donkey. This shows humility, and the palm branches are the symbol of peace. When a King enters on a donkey with palm branches, it is a peace offering. So Jesus enters the temple proclaiming humility, peace.

The entire week He spends teaching in the temple. This is when He drives out the moneychangers, vendors, and others set up in the temple to make money. He spends His last week teaching parables about the lost son, the lost coin, all these parables pointing to the lostness of man and the eagerness God has to seek. I can just imagine the urgency of Jesus' words, the practical pleading He has for these lost souls to turn to Him. He only has a few days left in the flesh to plead with these people, to lead them, to teach them. It's inspiring, really, if you think about it.

Thursday, at the Passover feast, Jesus has His last supper with the disciples, where He washes their feet and speaks with them intimately, as friends. He reaches to them as a friend and not as their teacher or master. He is desperate. These twelve men are the hope of His truth, the hope of God's desperate rescue mission to save mankind.

After they feast, they go to Mount Olives, where the Garden of Gethsemane is. In the early hours of the day, Friday, before the sun has even risen, soldiers come with clubs and swords to seize Jesus, the same man who has been in the temple day after day, teaching among the people. They come while Jesus is on His knees, praying in earnesty, in His most vulnerable hour, literally sweating tears of blood.

The same people who less than a week before praised and exalted Jesus demand that Pilate crucify this traitor, this liar. Crucify Him! Crucify Him! Crucify Him!

By noon, Jesus is on the cross, and the world dark. God's own Son, hanging by his wrists on display, bleeding, humiliated, beaten within an inch of His life, all for being a teacher, a prophet, the testimony of love and patience and grace. Passers-by sneer at Him, mock Him, spit at Him, taunt Him, hate Him with a depth undeserved and unbelievable. This man who spent His life healing, loving, caring, calling...broken by the road, a spectacle of intolerance, hatred, injustice, prejudice...

A willing sacrifice for the sake of men, the men who nailed Him there.

Three o'clock, Jesus cries out, "My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?" As Jesus takes on the sins of the world, past, present, future, yours and min, God must look away. His Son, who has all the authority of the universe, all the glory of God, is suddenly black with sin, dirty, unholy, impure, the darkest of human hearts is embodied in Christ the Lord. Jesus is not crying out in anguish due to His pain or humilitation or any reason of the flesh. He is crying out because He who has spent His life on earth in the presence and favor of God is suddenly apart from God. Separated from the Source of love, grace, mercy, everything good.

There is an earthquake that shakes the foundation of the world; it is over. Once and for all the blackness of our hearts that created this chasm from the God that loves us despite and in spite of ourselves is filled with a radiant change. As Jesus cloaked Himself in our unrighteousness, our murderous intentions, our dirty deeds, the secret sins behind closed doors, the perverse, the shameful, the guilty...we were cloaked in His righteousness, His right to the throne, His purity, His sacrifice, His patience, His virtue, His favor in God's eyes.

Happy Easter.

The Art of Nurture

2006-03-17T13:30:00.000-05:00

Thanks, folks, for the comments. After bouncing my thoughts off several other unsuspecting victims who just called for a quick hello or mindlessly suggested lunch, I've been able to tweak my thoughts on the role of nurturing as applicable to women. One of the things I don't want to be misquoted for is thinking that nurturing is an exclusively female role. I definitely think men are nurturers, especially in the parental context. But unlike other male roles, I think (and have been affirmed by other believers and my digging into the Word and tuning in to God's heart) that nurturing is divined to women, women in all walks of life, not just stay-at-home moms.

So that's what I'm going to start exploring. What does this art of nurturing mean for women in the workplace? Single women? Women who are divorced? Married? Mothers? Daughters? Childless? Fresh out of college? Fresh out of high school? You get the idea.

One more question for you mighty fine helpers out there: apart from nurturing, what other roles do you see as a uniquely feminine role? Not exclusively, mind you, but yeah, having God's fingerprint on the heart of a woman. I'd like this to be the beginning of a series we're doing for our women's meetings. Thanks again, homies. Peace out.

Readers: Comments Required. Seriously. You think I'm kidding.

2006-03-06T09:57:00.000-05:00

If you're reading this, I would appreciate your comments like whoa. I've been chewing some stuff over in my mind for the next women's meeting later this month, and I want to check myself against the Word and other believers before diving into it fully. When I bounced these thoughts off my husband, he warned me to be a little bit careful with what I'm saying, but I don't know if his concern was based more in truth or more in worry over me and how my message will be received against women not in my position (i.e., stay-at-home moms). So let me bounce them off you fine folks too.

I was thinking a lot lately about the role of nurturing, specifically the role given to women to be nurturers. Not exclusively; I don't honestly believe that characteristics of either gender are exclusive, just more like trademarks. When I think of the role of Nurturer, I want to approach it in the most general sense, completely apart from the context of parenting. I think nurturing applies best in that context, but because of that, it has lost its significance in other areas of our lives (women). What I mean is, have we put that role secondary to other roles women have, saving it for when we become wives and mothers? I think we have. And then to take it one step further, we save our nurturing spirit exclusively for our families. There are few women who I know, and literally none who live apart from God, who are nurturers in being. The more I think about this, the less I believe nurturing is a gift, such as hospitality or evangelism is a gift given to believers. To nurture is a watermark of being a woman, just as protection is of a man.

So then, what does it mean to be nurturing? How do we apply that role to all aspects of our lives, in every relationship we cultivate? Who is God the Nurturer? Within the parental context, I think of a parent nurturing her child in the sense that she creates an atmosphere of safety, truth, and growth. In the Old Testament, God seems most parental when addressing Israel, calling His people His children, the land His daughter, and so forth. Not that He is that way exclusively. But when I think of God the Nurturer, I think of when He calls forth His children.

To nurture, I think, is to foster one's identity. As a mom, I nurture Max in the sense that I provide him with a sense of security, I give him the means and the space to become the child he is becoming, I offer guidance when needed, and I allow this to happen in an environment of godly wisdom and truth. Apart from being a mother, this definition of nurturing can be applied to all areas of a woman's life, within all relationships.

We as women can nurture our friendships, the people we work with, and on and on. We do this, I think, by creating an atmosphere that goes with us of truth. We bring with us a sense of security, that we will speak in truth and call forth truth in your life. We will nurture God's truth and God's calling in your life. We will foster your identity in Christ, affirm His work in you. We will allow the movement of the Spirit to comfort you. We will not allow untruth to fester, we will not tolerate deception.

All those things, I think is obvious, work only in perfect accordance with God and His will. We can't be those things all the time; we are still of the flesh. But the role of Nurturer, defined by God's own character, I think has been pushed aside, postponed. Maybe that's why many new mothers feel overwhelmed with the possibilities of growing their children. They haven't had the practice!

Ladies, what areas, other than in the parental context, can we fulfill this role as Nurturer that was divined to us as women? And men, how would it affect your life, apart from being a husband or father or son, if the women in your life accepted and practiced this role daily?

Rise up and call her blessed...

2006-03-02T19:18:00.000-05:00

I have been meaning to update for awhile since the women's meeting I held last month, but...time gets away from me. I've joined the blogging bandwagon, and I've also fallen off. Sorry, kids.

Well, the meeting went supremely well. There were five ladies there, four more than I expected!! (I was one of them.) But after the fact, a lot of women from my church came up to me and told me they should have been there but for some reason or another couldn't, and that they'll be there at the next meeting (3/25), so maybe attendance will triple!

I got to share one of my hidden talents: crafts! I think I make some pretty kick-a homemade cards, and I also shared my knowledge of unique gift ideas for loved ones. That took about twenty minutes, and I gave out doorprizes!! I worked hard for that meeting, and God blessed that.

I also shared the verse that had been on my heart for weeks, Esther 4.13,14. Mordecai is telling Esther about the Jewish people about to be slaughtered, and he says, "If you persist in staying silent at a time like this, help and deliverance will arrive from someplace else; but you and your family will be wiped out. Who knows? Maybe you were made queen for just such a time as this." While preparing for the first meeting, I went to the old faithfuls for women's ministry: Esther, Ruth, Proverbs 31...this was the second time I read Esther, the first being while reading The King's Daughter by Diane Hagee. And that book touches mostly on Esther's preparation for the King and how we prepare our lives for our King. But the majority of the book of Esther is about her cunning, her bravery, and her wisdom in handling the situation and the enemy. That verse stuck with me because, who knows, maybe I was made woman for just such a time as this. What am I doing to bring help and deliverance to my people, my family, my loved ones? How am I interceding, appealing to the heart of God, on behalf of the men and women in my life?

Anyway, that stuff needs its own entry. For now this is just an update on the meeting. Aside from that verse, we talked about things on a whole different level. I'm just going to copy and paste what I have in my notes and stuff. That makes it easiest. (I borrowed from my own blog from other entries. Forgive the semi-self-plagarism...)

In the very beginning, when there was nothing, God was lonely and bored. So He created. I believe and see everyday that our God is astoundingly creative, beyond the wonders of just our world and our environment and our universe. It goes beyond the colors of sunrise or the music of a windy day. He continues to creatively love and provide for each of us, and I truly believe that when we as humans mimic the need and desire to ourselves create, we are touching closest to God’s character. We will never come even close to matching His capacity to love, grieve, accept, forgive or amaze…that is clear. But the act of creating, I think that may be one of the most, if not the most, ways we begin to understand and reflect our God.

Each person has an innate creativity – beyond the scope of the most obvious talents, art, music, writing, and other traditional “creative” skills – and that creativity is a piece of God’s image that remained with us after the Fall. You don’t have to be an artist, musician, composer, or writer to be considered creative. There are many different avenues to express our creativity, God’s creativity. Maybe you’re a creative chef, or teacher, or manager. Maybe you can even work creatively and organize creatively to bring the creativity out of others. We could go around the room and find something creative in everyone here, in ourselves and in others, and we will, but that’ll come later. So be ready. We are by design intended to create, and to appreciate creativity, and are often driven by it. And I believe God’s creativity is a direct effect of His love for us, for His love in general. His unconditional, unbounded love spurs this awe-inspiring world full of creativity; it fuels His need to reveal Himself to us in unique and breathtaking ways, as well as quiet, subtle ways.

God is Love. God is creative love. And that is what I want to share with you today. God has taught me in the last few weeks that His love is more than provision and grace and mercy and forgiveness and redemption. It is all that, and most of all, His love is creative. It is what threw Him into that artistic frenzy at the beginning; He created when He was desperate to outpour the love that He is. So what He has taught me is this: Creation is His Love. And we, women, are the pinnacle of that Creation.

You may have just took a mental step back, but hear me. I am not saying that God created woman as the best part, or that Adam was merely a rough draft (although that makes a good punch line). God has shown me that female was the pinnacle of creation, much like the cherry tops the sundae. I’m a big sugar fan, so an ice cream sundae with all the fixings is just about Heaven for me. Without the cherry, I’m still in Heaven, but nothing tops a sundae like that cherry. We are not more valuable than any other part of creation, we are not above, we are not below, we are not the closest to perfection. But we are the pinnacle. When I looked up the word in the dictionary, two synonyms it gave me were “summit” and “peak.” When you climb a mountain, your destination is the top. When God created all we see, He finished His creation with humankind, and He finished with woman.

Since the Fall, everything God created became corrupt. Instead of being His reflection, we became His distortion. All He meant for us to be was somehow turned into our separation. Only through Jesus do we take on our intended identity as God’s likeness. Because of this corruption, the very things that most women identify with and recognize in themselves are seen in our society as weaknesses, drawbacks, burdens and obstacles. But God has been teaching me and revealing to me that these things are divined to us as women. We’ve all probably heard of John Eldredge’s book Wild at Heart. He writes about God’s wild spirit and how He instilled that spirit in men. But Genesis tells us in 1.26-28, “God spoke: ‘Let us make human beings in our image, make them reflecting our nature […].’ God created human beings; He created them godlike, reflecting God’s nature. He created them male and female.” Male and female, God created them to reflect His nature. It takes both the masculine and the feminine to completely reveal His nature. We read in the Bible, especially in the Old Testament, more about God’s wrath, His judgment, and His wild spirit. He is the Lion of Judah, the Soldier of Israel, wild, uncontained, and a mystery. But He is also divinely feminine, which He intended for us women to reflect. He is the Lamb of Zion, the Grace of believers, nurturing, whispering, and beautiful. We are intended to describe God’s heart. And He has shown me specific areas of femininity that has been cursed, problematic, and twisted to be hardly recognizable as God-like.

A few of them we’ll get to today, but know that everything that defines you as a woman was intended to portray our God, divined and fashioned in the very beginning. We will look at a woman’s emotions, maternity, romance, submission, and beauty as divine characteristics of our Lord. Hopefully we will begin to see these things, and all things that deem us feminine, as God saw them in the beginning – reflections of His heart, His deepest desires.

How many of us have been accused of being overemotional, of being too sensitive? My personal favorite is “you’re reading too much into it.” These accusations have come from both men and women, so it’s not discriminatory. True, women have a tendency to be too much of these things. But God has shown me that women were designed to reflect His emotions. Is it not true that our internal monologues and attitudes will directly affect not just us and the rest of our day, but those closest to us? Truth be told, everyone I’m around suffers when it’s that time of the month. But God tells us that our deep range of emotions is not only part of being a woman, but part of Him that He instilled in us. It is a tool of ministry if we allow it to be used and worked by the Lord. Women are specifically equipped to deeply connect emotionally with other women, as well as with our loved ones. Since the Fall, we’ve been exploited, lied to, and deceived into thinking our emotions are over the top, a distraction, and God-forbid, unprofessional. We women automatically connect our heads and our hearts. One way the devil uses this against us is by filling our heads with lies. Our thoughts directly affect our emotions, which can be destructive. I’ve allowed myself to be hurtful, to say things I wouldn’t normally say, under the pretense that I’m just “emotional” right now. I’ve used it to justify wrongdoings. God’s love is as deep as His wrath is as deep as His grief is as deep as His joy is as deep as His glee is as deep as His sorrow. Only God can be all these things, so He split it down the middle. We get to be His emotions while men get to be His action. I’m not saying men don’t feel, or that women don’t have the desire to act or fight. But our God-given depth and range of emotions are not hindrances; we can allow them to be if we don’t recognize that they are in fact God-given. But our emotions allow us to solidify relationships, and are not meant to destroy them.

I have yet to meet a woman who does not have a maternal instinct. I know lots of women who don’t care for kids, but I haven’t ever seen them not swoon over a newborn, or ache to hold one. I don’t mean instinct in the sense of automatically knowing how to change a diaper or knowing the best way to rock a baby to sleep. I’m still trying to figure out the best way to sleep-train Max. But the instinct to mother is in all women, even women who don’t have children. There’s a tenderness that God instilled in us; physically, apart from our hearts, women are equipped during pregnancy and for the first months of a baby’s life to nourish, nurture, and shelter their infants, without the help of the father. This is by design. Not to exclude the men, but to reflect God’s own maternity. In Matthew 23:37, Jesus says, “Jerusalem! Jerusalem! Murderer of prophets! Killer of the ones who brought you God’s news! How often I’ve ached to embrace your children, the way a hen gathers her chicks under wings, and you wouldn’t let Me.” It is maternal instinct to protect (like a mother bear) our children. And if you don’t have kids, that maternal instinct manifests itself in other ways: we show love and attention to others who act as our “children” like co-workers, friends, even animals or causes we feel passionately about. Society has allowed the corruption of motherhood by seeing it as a hindrance, an obstacle, an old-fashioned ideal. Career-forward women see getting pregnant and raising children as a threat to their jobs. This is how the devil corrupts our maternal instinct; by denying it exists, or at best, seeing it as a distraction.

Another thing about being a woman is our appreciation for romance. I’m not saying men are unromantic; I’ve known a couple guys who shed a tear at a sappy movie. But women, on the other hand, are dying to be swept off our feet. We long for the girl in the story to be us, for the man to be our soul mate. I don’t have to tell you that romance is part of God’s heart: He wrote the very first love story! Adam awakens to the sight of someone, something he has never before seen…Adam sees her and knows she is his. We, men and women, were created for each other. This is one area the devil exploits consistently and across the board. No relationship between a man and a woman is immune to the attacks, because I believe that this is one of the deepest longings a woman has, second only to the longing all creation has for God. Because it is so closely related to seeking God, women often use a romantic relationship to fill the need for God. God is romantic – reading His Word, there’s no denying it. Looking at the beauty of this world, it seems He is just setting the stage for romance. There are eight chapters of romance smack in the middle of the Bible, in Song of Songs. God delights in our romances. And He fashioned that delight into women everywhere. This is one area of our lives that we must submit to the Lord; allow Him to be the Author of our love story. Because it is such a deep desire of our heart, we make the mistake of thinking we know best and would be best in control. And because it is such a deep desire of our heart, the devil uses it to hurt and attack us in the very center of our souls. That is dangerous to our relationships with others, with God, and the relationship we have with ourselves.

When God called women to submit to their husbands, that role became an easy one to corrupt. Women have been belittled, demeaned, condescended, and pushed aside throughout history. Submission itself is not the only exploitation, but by contrast, the arrogance and ego-boost it inevitably allowed. But true submission is a choice made in love. Jesus submitted to God’s will, even though He knew that meant pain, death, humiliation, and worst of all, separation from God. Jesus was no less God because He submitted; nor was He seen as weak or unable to think for Himself. He made the choice out of love and trust in the Father and love for us. Despite our strong wills, despite growing feminism, and despite our world-glorified “independence” from men, I really believe that there is a piece of us as women that longs to follow our men. I believe God designed that in us, the very same way we long to follow Him. Stormie Omartian, author of The Power of a Praying Wife, wrote “Submission is a matter of trusting in God more than trusting man.” Submission, she points out, is different from obedience. We are called to obey God, and to obey our parents. Those are the only two times God demands obedience.

And finally, we come to beauty. This one was a little hard for me to swallow. Woman, as the pinnacle of creation, was also the pinnacle of beauty. We were designed to reflect God’s beauty. This, too, disturbed in the Fall. What woman does not want to be more beautiful? What woman does not find it a struggle to see herself as beautiful? All it takes for a lot of women is a bad hair day, a pimple, or a makeup mishap to feel insecure, ineffective, or irritated for the entire day. Women, more so than men, gravitate toward appearances. Most men are well-groomed and care about looking presentable and professional. But no man I know cares that his eyelashes aren’t long and curly enough, that his lips aren’t red and full enough, that his cheeks don’t glow like J. Lo’s, that his skin isn’t smooth and flawless like a baby’s. Why do you think the cosmetic industry is such a huge industry? Because women do not believe that they are beautiful, not without work and the truth of the Lord anyway. No woman I know would ever agree that she is beautiful just the way she is, that she wouldn’t change a single thing about herself given the chance. The women of the Bible were always described as beautiful, in heart and in physical beauty. Sarah, Rachel, Rebekah, Esther, Mary…God designed them to stand out physically, but also in spirit and in reliance on the Lord. Physical beauty was designed to be enhanced by our trust and love for God and righteousness. God designed women to long for beauty, both in herself and for her surroundings. It is a gateway to seek Him, the most beautiful, the Artist of beauty.

So here we are. This is what the Lord has been saying to me, as a woman, a daughter, a wife, and a mother. We are divinely feminine, a purposeful masterpiece deemed beautiful, the reflection of the Lord’s softer, gentler side. While God spoke everything else into existence, He fashioned Eve carefully, uninterrupted, an Artist carving and glossing the grand piece that is woman, the finishing touch to His glorious creation. We were designed, not called, and we are beautiful.
Because we were designed with a specific role intended for us, it is important not to revolt against the Author, but instead embrace our calling and entrust our role to God. We were fashioned with a specific design in mind, in God’s mind, and once we turn each aspect over to the Lord, He will use them to reflect His heart more accurately, His gentleness, grace, emotions, and beauty.

So anyway, sorry for being so long-winded...hey! You didn't have to read it. ;)

Snow Day in Tennessee

2006-02-09T10:39:00.000-05:00

Just a couple of pictures to share of Max's first official snow day of winter. (It took long enough to snow, I mean, gosh.) He saw some snow last winter when we were up in the mountains for Christmas, but he was just 6 months old. So this time he actually got to play in it. The first picture is before we hit the slopes. (Hah, yeah.) Don't you love his hat? I actually got him to wear it the whole time. (I think it's because I had a hat on not unlike this one, chin flaps and everything. Okay, I'm kidding, it was actually just a baseball cap, but if I had one that matched, I would have totally sported it.) He had no idea why I was putting several shirts on him, though, and kept squirming to get away. When we finally did make it outside, I mostly had the video camera running, so I didn't take any more pictures. I wish I would have thought of it, but between playing cameramom and chasing after the little snow devil...yeah.

The second picture he has a snowball in his hand. I gave him one to throw at me, but he just held it in his hand until it melted. After that, his hand started turning a bright red color from holding it, so I decided it was time to go back inside for awhile. He was extremely angry with me, but a cup of hot chocolate solidified our friendship again.

I love my little Arctic explorer. North Pole, here we come!

Rockin' to some JKnapp

2006-02-02T22:40:00.000-05:00

judge me not ye saints
for my history may tainted
but i'm sober enough to know blood when i see it

i've borne my share of stones
most of them easily thrown

but who's to deny
Your watershed side
leading me home

what am i supposed to do about it now
past regrets and long laments, they find me somehow
o, what am i supposed to do about it now
what have i to do but fall down

to spy from far away
may seem that i'm one to betray

but o, how i try
the Spirit to guide
the promise You made

what am i supposed to do about it now
past regrets and long laments, they find my somehow
o, what am i supposed to do about it now
what have i to do but fall down
what have i to do but fall down

hold me up
never let me go
love me when i am broken
and speak to me

whta am i supposed to do about it now
past regrets and long laments, they find me somehow
o, what am i supposed to do about it now
what have i to do but fall down
what have i to do but fall down
what have i to do but fall down
down...

He wants me...

2006-02-01T21:37:00.000-05:00

In my weakness, HE is my strength.

In my ignorance, HE is my wisdom.

In my inability, HE is my creativity.

In my doubt, HE is my certainty.

In my fear, HE is my courage.

In my smallness, HE is great.

In my shortcomings, HE is my b r i d g e .

So I'm doing it. I'm really doing it. What am I doing? Lord, are You sure You want me?! There are other women out there, other mothers, wives, daughters of the King who know more than me, who are more clever, who are more eloquent, more talented, more sure of themselves. What?!?!

So here I am. I'm facilitating a new women's group based on incorporating the practical skills of women (basically homemaking, to be politically incorrect) and the spiritual, what it means to be a woman of God. It's housed at our church here in Knoxville, Hope Fellowship, and I really am doing it. A couple of weeks ago, when I proposed it to some friends and ladies in the church, I thought I was just throwing the idea out there, you know, to see if anyone was interested, hoping someone was interested enough to take it and run with it. But surprise, that someone is me. Yeah, literally. Surprise!!

What am I doing?? Is He serious? Does He really want me as one of His representatives? Not just a representative of the faith, but of women of the faith? Am I in the same company as Ruth, Esther, Rebekah, Sarah, Rachel, Eve, even Mary? He wants me?? He must be out of His mind.

While I sit and doubt and learn and read and listen, He is everything I lack. I am no teacher. That is clearly not one of my spiritual gifts. And yet here I am, with the first lesson fleshed out, and even more so, eloquently and passionately written. Did I pen that?? Heck no. In fact, if I even try to go forward with His message as my own, it'll be a painful and humiliating bellyflop, like when the fat kid trips off the diving board when trying to do a cannonball.

And yet, with nothing to guide me but the Lord, I am learning so much about women, about our design, our roles as sister, wife, mother. I am learning that we are divinely feminine, a purposeful masterpiece deemed beautiful, the reflection of the Lord's softer, gentler side. While God spoke everything else into existence, He fashioned Eve carefully, working uninterrupted, an Artist carving and glossing the grand piece that is woman, the finishing touch to His glorious Creation. We were designed, not called, and we are beautiful.

Genesis tells us that He created us, male and female, to reflect the likeness of God. Apart, we are only pieces of the picture of God. But together, whole, male and female, we are the reflection of our Maker. Male: the wrath of God, the wildness of His Spirit, the Lion of Judah, the Soldier of the righteous. Female: the tenderness of God, the nurturing of His Voice, the Lamb of Zion, the Grace for believers.

Because we were designed with a specific role divined to us, it is important that we do not revolt against the Author, but instead embrace His call to us and deem ourselves beautifully feminine, delicately woman. There are certain characteristics that are unmistakeably female, and I plan to explore some of these specifics in the first lesson of our first meeting. God has already shown me pieces of woman that have been cursed, territory occupied by the enemy and seen as weakness. But no, rejoice! We women were fashioned that way, and once we turn each aspect over to the Lord, He will use them to reflect His character more accurately, His gentleness, grace, emotions, and beauty.

I wish I could get into it all now; God is really the ultimate Teacher. But I'm afraid of giving too much away and then no one will come to the first meeting. I'm kidding, of course, but God is still teaching, I am still listening. I'll be sure to share more after the first meeting. I'll let you know how it all goes...

Just some stuff.

2006-01-18T13:14:00.000-05:00

I just finished reading Lauren Weisberger's The Devil Wears Prada and once again, I've been bitten by the writing bug. I swear, it seems every time I read a mediocre novel (I said it...mediocre), I get the attitude of, "I could have written that so much better...if I had only come up with the plot." So I guess my one-uppance is hopelessly paralleled with the fact that my writing capabilities are not by any means coupled with the gift of coming up with plots. So there you have it. I'll just blog.

I just got an email from Karen Corwin-soon-to-be-Isbell, and I don't actually know if she reads my blog. But I do read hers, and I loved hearing about how she and Bryan were led to the perfect house. It made me think of Walden and my own search for home-ownership. We renewed our apartment lease for just six months, since March (the end of our one-year lease) is sneaking up on us and we have next to nothing saved compared to what it would take to put a down payment on a house. So next time around, September will not take us by surprise. We are aggressively saving for a house. So far, our resolution has been whittled down to saving $300 this past month. What?! At this rate, we should be able to find a nice house in, oh, I don't know, twenty years. How about that!! Maybe we can buy our first house, then retire within the same decade!! Okay, I'm being facetious (I had to look that word up for the correct spelling). But seriously. This line of thought is going somewhere, I promise, not just down Bite-Me Lane.

Am I a believer in the One True Lord and His blameless Son Jesus Christ Who died on the cross for our sins and rose again on the third day to forever conquer the throes of death and usher all those who call unto Him into everlasting life in the Kingdom of Heaven?

Yes.

But, man, have I been wayyyy off-track the last couple years. I guess sleeping with your boyfriend and consequently getting knocked up can do that for a girl. But with all inappropriate kidding and snide remarks aside, what have I been doing all this time? Where have I put the Lord in all this time? Did I happen to box Him up too, along with the rest of my pre-pregnancy, pre-marriage life, and store Him someplace safe and forgettable?

I came across some old journals this past weekend back home in Montgomery. I went to visit my parents while Walden went to Mississippi for a business trip, and it was like reading about a complete stranger's life. What happened to that girl? Everything about her seemed foreign to me. I visited with my old covenant group leader, who has been a pretty consistent part of my life since I graduated high school. Our conversation was light, airy, full of fluff. How did I forget how to talk to Susan Fisher, of all people? I even went to Frazer, which was, in a word, creepy. There's just something about going somewhere so familiar, just to find not a single familiar face, not even a single familiar room, much less an inkling that this was the same place was where I grew up, literally. I guess this past weekend, with longtime friends, old places, and old memories, was the stirring, if you will.

Reading other people's blogs about leaning on the Lord to find a house, a car, a job now seems incoherent to me. I never even thought twice about committing our finances and dream of finding a house to God, the One who cares infinitely and achingly about each glaringly insignificant detail of my life.

It is a smack in the face.

It's the realization that I am not the mother, the wife, the woman God has been desperately wanting me to be, desperately wanting to divine me to be. Not even remotely close. Not even recognizably close. Not even a fraction of a nanogram kinda close. Get it? Every area in my life calls, by design, for His control, for His perfect Hand to be on. And yet. hereiam.

Where did that girl go? When did she go into hiding? Why do I now feel uncomfortable when people ask me about church, or if I'd like to help lead worship, or join a Bible study, or pray for them? Why don't I feel the prick of offense when I watch television and there is a profound misconception of God and His character? Have I really become that kind of woman?

Will this be another one of those times, the demands of the day, of a toddler, covering all tugs of the Holy Spirit, and my subconcious willing to just let it go? Will I let this day slip by?

Boy...

2006-01-16T00:01:00.000-05:00

Is my life great or what? And since it is tough to communicate meaning behind words on a computer screen, I'll go ahead and say: I am not being sarcastic in the least bit.

My Christmas holiday was, in a word, perfect. I'll have to put pictures up as soon as I can. Walden and I are in the process of switching computers, which is a pain in the arse considering it seems I've taken up a second job as Max's personal photo journalist. So, soon, we will have our newer, faster, sleeker, smaller laptop set up, as opposed to RoboComp, the chunkier, more useless cousin of RoboCop. (Remember that guy?)

Anyway, so back to perfection. Walden, Max and I went down to Oxford, AL, where my older sister Jen and her boyfriend live. Their house is gorge. Absolutely gorgeous. Jen has a real knack for interior decorating, and it shows in every inch of their house. So spending Christmas in a beautiful home with beautiful people was just about the star on top of my tree. Walden's family in Gadsden is just a stone's throw from where Jen lives, so we were able to see both the Woodhouses and the Buttrams in one weekend. So great. Max has singlehandedly managed to turn our humble apartment into Elmo's World. Well, let me rephrase that. Our parents by way of Max has managed the Elmo transformation, via a ginormous stuffed Elmo doll, Pee-Pee Elmo ("Whoops! Elmo didn't go in the potty! Sorry!"), and enough DVDs and books with Elmo's furry face plastered on the cover to open our own McKays. We also have a huge (by huge I mean nearly 5 feet tall) basketball goal that Walden's brother got Max for Christmas. Instead of taking down the Christmas tree and using the space for what it was used for before the holidays (storing Max's toys and our DVD collection), we took down the tree and put up a basketball goal in its place. Heck yes. Truth be told, Walden and I are getting our fair share of hoops in, too.

I got a kick-a kitchen revamp for Christmas. Okay, not totally. What I mean is, I got a gorgeous stainless steel breadmaker (breadmaker, people!!) from my parents (I've already used it half a dozen times!), and an awesome, and I mean awesome, stainless steel coffeemaker from Walden. Beeyootiful. And I'm enjoying them both at least daily.

Then New Year's weekend, all our families (and I mean all) came up for Walden's surprise birthday party. And he was thoroughly surprised. He had no earthly idea that I had anything planned for his birthday. But the party was a complete hit. We all ate, drank, played games, and lost money to Paul Reed when we played poker. Super fun. And of course everyone (including Max!) stayed up until midnight to ring in the new year!! I made a profit of $7 the entire weekend from poker. World Series Poker, here I come!!

So that was my holiday. I can't believe it's already over two weeks into 2006 and I'm just now updating. So yeah. Happy New Year!

Is it really December?

2005-12-12T11:09:00.000-05:00

I can't believe I only have twelve more shopping days left. And only nineteen days left in 2005. Wow. Where has the year gone?

We actually get to spend Christmas this year with our families. My sister and her boyfriend live in Oxford, AL, and Walden's family lives in Gadsden, which is only about fourty-five minutes away. I am so excited! I hate spending the holidays away from my family! So it's off to Oxford next Friday! So thrilled!

Anyway this past Saturday was Walden's company Christmas party. It was so classy! It was at the Foundry at the Worlds Fair. I got to meet all his co-workers and his bosses. And not to mention the food was delicious! I can't believe it...are we really adults? Since when did we spend Saturday nights schmoozing with CEO's and Vice Presidents, champagne in hand? (As I blog, I'm also listening to Big Bird sing on the television. Hah!) And this Friday we're going to Walden's old boss's house for another Christmas party. And then is Walden's surprise birthday party (shh!) next, next Friday! I can't believe I am pulling this off. I got his entire family to come up for his birthday party (the 30th) and a couple of his best friends from high school and college (about 20 people in our little apartment! Yikes!) without him having even a clue. I guess having your husband work all day long has its benefits. :)

I'm so pumped about his party. It's going to be a Poker and Game Night theme. Ken (Jen's boyfriend) is getting him a really nice poker chip set for Christmas, and my parents bought him a poker table top, so that'll be swell. And we've got all kinds of board games. I make it my goal to own Twister before the party, though, so Santa, that's the top thing on my list. Martha (Walden's mom) bought a bunch of poker-themed platters and decorations when she was here for Thanksgiving, and my parents are helping me put together the menu. I am so excited. I love that sort of thing. When Walden and I get our own house, we're throwing a party at least every month! I mean, there's always something to celebrate.

Anyway, Sesame Street is almost over and I haven't even started the laundry!

Argh.

2005-12-08T11:06:00.000-05:00

My sister is the agent of addiction. Click here only if you have an extreme amount of time to do nothing.

HECK YES.

2005-11-28T19:00:00.000-05:00

I just ordered dinner online. I love technology.

Turkey Day in Tennessee!

2005-11-27T20:35:00.000-05:00

Well, well, well. There is nothing better than the one holiday that celebrates gluttony, lethargy, excessive sleeping, and football. Oh, yeah, and the whole "giving thanks" business.

Welcome to my table. Isn't it pretty? I had to use some of my fancy-dinner-table expertise garnered from working at The Lodge (super-fancy private lodge & restaurant for Ruby Tuesday execs) to set the table. This was the second year Walden, Max and I hosted Thanksgiving dinner. Last year, it was just Walden, me, Max, and our friend Jimmy, and this year it was the three of us plus Walden's mom and stepdad. After fixing two successful turkey dinners all by myself, I consider myself a heck yes pro. Oh, I said it. Our menu: the Perfect Turkey, Dad's legendary cornbread stuffing, can't-go-wrong green bean casserole, super cheesy and delish hash brown casserole, buttery dinner rolls (of course), red wine gravy, pecan pie, and...drum roll...Mom's amazing, fantastic, mouth-watering, scrumptious apple dumplings. And let me be the first to say...everything was perfect! I just love this kind of thing, cooking, decorating, hosting, entertaining... hopefully next year we can have all our family here for Thanksgiving!

One more picture...my beautiful turkey. Hey. Don't I get bragging rights?!

God bless Sesame Street.

2005-11-11T15:16:00.000-05:00

For those of you with kids in your lives (your own or ones you babysit on a pretty regular basis or even your significant others...hah, sorry, couldn't resist), you know the power that that giant yellow bird, that three-year-old red fuzzy monster with a pet goldfish, the wacky pair B & E, and company hold over young minds.

God bless Sesame Street. For an entire hour every single weekday, I can do whatever I need to do to get done. How do I spend this hour today? Instead of packing for our weekend trip to the mountains, finishing the housework, or even paying bills to get ahead of myself, I am blogging. Talk about priorities!

Okay, now for the best part of the day. The Promise I bestowed upon all those who are lucky. I know I have this picture as my Facebook picture, but it's so much better large and in charge, right? We call this picture: Vader's First Tantrum. Fear the Dark Side. I'm so tempted to make a poster of this kid, he is hilarious. He's crying because he hates that hat and I kept pulling his hands away from his head until he finally gave up and just cried. Then, click! Picture taken, memory captured forever. Grown-up Max is going to hate me one day. That kid is so, so funny. I love the pictures we get of him throwing those tantrums. They have so much more character than his "sweet" pictures. It's the real Max. Not that he's a crybaby, but he is a stubborn one. And he knows what he wants and when he wants it. And he'll let you know if he's not happy with your parenting skills. Isn't he great? I wish everyone could meet him. He's such a joy. I can't wait until all my friends start having kids. Are they in for a ride!

Revelations

2005-11-09T18:36:00.000-05:00

I have come to two conclusions. The first: no one really reads my blog. You can tell by the overwhelming comment spam I got on that last open-ended question to the blogging world. Sigh. I'm hurt, folks. Or should I say folk? Okay, I'm only semi-serious, but that is a jolt of reality. No, I am not a widely read and circulated online journalist. Rats.

The second conclusion, well, you should buckle down and have a seat, because are you in for a long one (well, maybe, if I can keep my mind on one-track). This is going back to the previous post, based on the statement from the Beth Moore study Living Free. She writes, "Christians can be miserably dissatisfied if they accept Christ's salvation yet reject the fullness of a daily relationship that satisfies." Whew. Is that a chunk of burnin' love or what.

One of the things I have always, repeat: always, struggled with is the threat of mediocrity and ineffectiveness. I really believe that Christians, myself included, myself especially, become bored and dissatisfied with the Christian life because they become satisfied with inactivity, mediocrity. How many times have I caught myself treading water, my head just barely above the surface? Sure, I've got myself covered eternally, but not only am I miserable, but I am truly missing something more.

What I am learning above all from this devotional is that there are layers and layers of what God wants to fulfill in our lives. Salvation is just the foundation and base of what He longs to give us. Salvation ensures our eternity, while the relationship He calls us to fulfills our daily lives now, fulfills our destiny today. This life is not just a waiting room for Heaven, but the first leg of the race, the prologue to a classic story, a mere slice of the whole pie. Like them mixed metaphors, huh?

Nothing can separate us from God's love, and no one (present company included) can snatch you from the Father's hand. A mediocre spiritual life does not get you written off the guest list come Heaven time. God doesn't need me to be Super Christian. He doesn't need my work to ensure His success, He doesn't need my faithfulness for Himself to remain faithful. And He certainly doesn't need my consistency to prove Himself the same. He is and is and is. What He wants for me is to be part of the celebration, He wants me to be part of the work and of the adventure and of the dance.

It's so easy to say, "No, thanks, I don't know this song, I'd rather sit this one out" and slowly, slowly back into the corner, becoming the wallflower we all ourselves feel sorry for. Rather, God is calling us to hang on, and let Him lead the dance. Not for His sake, that is just laughable, to think God needs our help. But for our own sakes, for our enjoyment and satisfaction and fulfillment of our God-given destinies. Isn't that something?

Christ delights in us so profoundly that He longs for us to be part of His work. How dare I be content to just be? I feel like a free-loader. Why do I get such satisfaction in doing nothing? The reason why I struggle with that so much is because I suddenly find myself wonderless. Awe-less. Easily distracted and deceitfully tricked. Every reason in the book to fall into the trap of ineffectiveness, believe me, we'll find. I know I do. And I could even argue that a couple are valid excuses. But face it: we will never be worthy enough to be part of God's agenda. We will never be good enough, smart enough, strong enough, pretty enough, or charming enough to get His work done on our own steam. Our inclusion rests only on His saying so. We are invited, not because of who we are, but because of who we know, He who personally put us on the guest list.

So what is the greater work, this adventure that He excitedly draws us to? It is something that goes past salvation, because the adventure of salvation comes only after this life. I myself am still learning what specifically He calls me to. But for everyone, the number one call is the same...we are all called to first and foremost know Christ. By "know," I mean experience. That goes beyond salvation, because again, salvation cannot be experienced in this lifetime. It is an eternal decision and an eternal consequence.

To know Him, to experience Him.

Another open question. How do you explain that in your life? How do you define knowing and experiencing Christ?

Agree? Disagree?

2005-11-07T08:59:00.000-05:00

I want to hear others' thoughts on the following statement:

"Christians can be miserably dissatisfied if they accept Christ's salvation yet reject the fullness of a daily relationship that satisfies."

I'll expound later.

A mountain on fire...

2005-11-06T17:51:00.000-05:00

I don't think I'll ever get used to Fall in the Smokies. This is my fifth year living in East Tennessee during fall, and it never ceases to take my breath away. I just got back from an early evening stroll with my kiddo & hubband, and the beauty that people from around the country travel here to see is literally my backyard.

It's amazing the shades of red, orange, auburn, and gold in one place. And our Creator is behind this brilliant tapestry of color...the Mastermind behind this flaming sea of trees is passionate for us. Mindboggling.

Who knew that death could be so glorious? The death of summer, death of leaves, the hibernation of the living...who knew death could be so spectacular? And yet, isn't that the very parallel of our spirituality? Death to self, death nonetheless, but in all its glory, we are painted in colors portraying the Creator. In our deaths to sin and bondage and, frankly, ourselves, a flame of breathtaking beauty is ignited, and in an instant, we become privy to the masterpiece, part of the art our God, so incredibly creative, passionately and intensely -- and continuously -- creates.

And yet while the beauty of Autumn ushers in Winter, the season of bareness and often harshness, we are ushered into a season of Life, as if our seasons work backwards. Instead of Winter, isn't it a little like Summer vacation? A season of rest, adventure, a reason to play. Not that there is no work to be done, because like I've said before, a daily relationship with the Lord is truly work (not unenjoyable, but yes, I said work), but rather work that comes with and from a source of purpose and passion and wonder. Maybe I'm reaching with the whole seasons metaphor, but you get the idea.

Anyway, any non-Tennesseeans out there reading this, I highly recommend one day making it to our little corner of the world during this time of year. You will without a doubt make a memory that just "sparkles."

My name is Schmi.

2005-11-01T17:25:00.000-05:00

There he is, my little Darth Vader. And in case you didn't get the title, Schmi Skywalker is Anakin's mom. By the way, I HAD TO LOOK IT UP. Trust me, I am not a Star Wars nerd. (Hah, I just erased a typo -- I had actually written "Star Warts.") I've only seen the new movies. Okay, that's enough of a non-nerd disclaimer (for now...something tells me I might have to prove myself further down the road). I tried to throw together a Schmi-like costume at the last minute, but I didn't have the right things in my closet. So I just wore a "Hello, my name is" tag that said, "Schmi Skywalker." I'm so clever. And Walden thinks he's hot stuff now because, apparently, Anakin's dad was The Force, or something like that. (Again, NOT something I just KNEW, but found out later.)

You can't really tell, but his light saber lights up. And he's trying to pull of his hat. Er, excuse me, helmet. (Helmut? How confusing.) I'll have to show you another picture of Darth's dark side. It'll make your day. Seriously. My kid is that amazingly cute. The best part for Max about trick-or-treating was seeing his favorite characters. He actually chased down a three-year-old dressed as Elmo, yelling, "E-mo! E-mo!" And I discovered my kiddo is addicted to Tootsie Rolls. Can't say I blame him. They were my favorite when I was a kid, too.

Anyway, just wanted to share my escapades with Darth Vader himself. Since Walden and I both weren't home for trick-or-treaters, we left a basket full of candy and a note that said, "Unfortunately, the residents of this place have been taken captive by a dangerous villian named Darth Vader. Lucky for you, you have escaped his wrath...for now... Take what you need for nourishment to thwart the evils of The Dark Side, but be sure to leave sustenance for others seeking refuge from the evils of this galaxy. Be brave, young ones, and may the Force be with you..." Go ahead and say it. I'm brilliant.

Happy November!

My New Anthem

2005-10-05T22:24:00.000-05:00

So I came across an incredible verse in the Bible today, Psalm 33.5 in The Message translation. It reads, "Earth is drenched in God's affectionate satisfaction." Don't you just love that? Earth is drenched in God's affectionate satisfaction. That's just fabulous. I'm adopting that verse as my new mantra.

It's so interesting reading everyone else's blogs and hearing from all my friends who have graduated with me. My friends are scattered across the country, going to grad school, starting their careers, getting married, playing the adult game. I have friends going to law school in Vermont, playing park ranger in Alaska, doing missions in Australia, and selling gum in freaking California. (Not you, Dianne...okay, just kidding! I am talking about you! Ha!) And here I am sitting on my bum all day, playing Legos with the coolest kid in the universe. There are days we don't even get out of our pajamas until well past noon. Our best friends include Big Bird, Elmo, and Ernie, and I've learned all the names of all the characters on Sesame Street, Barney, and Teletubbies. Just today, I caught myself singing the "Journey to Ernie" song right alongside those fuzzy monsters. (If you want the words, just ask. I'm not ashamed!) The most use that has come of my math degree has been balancing the checkbook. When people ask what I'm doing these days, I answer, "I'm just staying at home with Max." Most often I get a ton of praise, parenting being one of the most important roles anyone will ever play. But sometimes, I get those smartasses who get under my skin and into my head, who unthinkingly say, "Oh. That's it?"

And just as I start getting caught up in the lies that my life is not nearly as accomplished as everyone else's around me, or that my math degree is just a waste, that everyone else is doing what they were educated and trained to do, that I do nothing "productive" all day, I read that I am drenched in God's affectionate satisfaction. How friggin' cool is the Bible? The living Word, breathed from God, spoken straight to a heart that needs exactly what it has to offer at any given time?

I am drenched. God is satisfied with me. Not with what I do, because Lord knows I'm a clumsy disgrace to all things holy. Not with what I know, because what I know is just slightly more than nothing. With me.

Earth is drenched in God's affectionate satisfaction.

I love it. I absolutely cannot get over that simple truth. There's no magic involved, no steps to follow, no clean-up required. I am who God intended me to be. A wife. A mother. A homemaker. He is satisfied with me, with my heart, with my being. Whether I am "just a mom" or the most successful, money-making woman out there, I am doing important work. And when I get down with the thought that people are having adventures, God's like, what?! Don't you know, fool? (Okay, so sometimes God sounds like Mr. T to me...) I am having the ultimate adventure. Sharing ice cream with a fourteen-month-old is pretty exciting, especially when he gets brain freeze for the first time, and you end up spending half an hour just laughing at and with each other.

So that's the nugget. OF TROOOOOOF. Hmm. God is drenching us with His affectionate satisfaction. Everywhere you turn, He offers it up. Earth is drenched. That is a beautiful thing.

Romans

2005-09-26T16:02:00.000-05:00

This is why the fulfillment of God's promise depends entirely on trusting God and his way, and then simply embracing him and what he does. God's promise arrives as pure gift. That's the only way everyone can be sure to get in on it, those who keep the religious traditions and those who have never heard of them. For Abraham is father of us all. He is not our racial father -- that's reading the story backwards. He is our faith father.

We call Abraham "father" not because he got God's attention by living like a saint but because God made something out of Abraham when he was nobody. Isn't that what we've always read in Scripture, God saying to Abraham, "I set you up as father of many peoples"? Abraham was first named "father" and then became a father because he dared to trust God to do what only God could do: raise the dead to life, with a word make something out of nothing. When everything was hopeless, Abraham believed anway, deciding to live not on the basis of what he saw he couldn't do but on what God said he would do. And so he was made father of a multitude of peoples. God himself said to him, "You're going to have a big family, Abraham!"

Abraham didn't focus on his own impotence and say, "It's hopeless. This hundred-year-old body could never father a child." Nor did he survey Sarah's decades of infertility and give up. He didn't tiptoe around God's promise asking cautiously skeptical questions. He plunged into the promise and came up strong, ready for God, sure that God would make good on what he had said. That's why it is said, "Abraham was declared fit before God by trusting God to set him right." But it's not just Abraham, it's also us! The same thing gets said about us when we embrace and believe the One who brought Jesus to life when the conditions were equally hopeless. The sacrificed Jesus made us fit for God, set us right with God.

Romans 4:17-25 (The Message)

Check it out...

2005-09-21T18:57:00.000-05:00

...this is my gorge fam at Joe's Crab Shack. Out of all the hip, fabulous places in Nashville that my dad could have chosen to have his birthday dinner at, he chose Joe's. Walden, Mister Six-Five, sticks out like a sore thumb. My tall little hubband...isn't he cute?? That gray blob over our heads is the famous Joe's shark. Max was afraid to touch it and kept trying to hide from it during dinner. (Poor Max, our table was practically right under the shark's tail...) I suggest that you not get the lobster at the Franklin Joe's Crab Shack. Jen, Maia, and I all had the lobster tail and mine was tough, while Jen's and Maia's took for-ev-er to come out. We were practically through eating when their lobster came out. According to Jen, Outback has great lobster. It's been awhile since I had great seafood. The last time I remember having a great fishy meal, we were in South Carolina at the beach. Which reminds me...

And now one of my favorite pictures from Myrtle Beach. I love this picture, just because it really shows that father-son relationship that Max and Walden have. Walden is such a great dad...not that I had any doubt. Max just loved playing in the sand. He liked to sit right at the surf and dig holes in the sand, just letting the waves wash over him. He is such a sweet boy! I cannot believe that he'll be fourteen months tomorrow...it seems like he just turned six months...then a year! Good grief...he's growing up so fast. He's so independent now compared to just a few months ago -- he's walking, talking, saying all kinds of things, even letting us know exactly what he wants. He is so smart...of course, I am pretty biased, but what are mothers for? It's hard to believe that just two years ago, I dreaded his presence, and now I can't breathe without him. My son...

P.S. Isn't my hubband a hunk!!

2005-09-15T12:18:00.000-05:00

Have I ever mentioned how much I adore my family? Not just my "new" family, that is, Walden & Max, but my family-family. My parents, my sisters, and my brother...as we've gotten older and, inevitably, more mature (riiiight), I can hardly remember the bad things about our family, the petty fights, sibling rivalry, unfair parental rules...and all I know of my family is that they make me laugh more than anyone or anything in the world.

I get to see most of them (sans bro Mike, as he is still serving in England...that air force whore...boo) this weekend. We're all going to rendevous in Nashville for my dad's birthday, and I am so thrilled that I get to go!! It's always hard getting away on the weekends because my husband is a workaholic...I mean, he works a lot. Anyway, so we're going to Nashville, oh, so exciting! When my sisters and I get together, it's like a slumber party, a 24-hour giggle-fest. If the whole world were privy to our inside jokes, we would make a killing as a comedic trio. We are that funny.

I love my family more than anything, my sisters, my brother (I miss him so, so much), and of course, my parents, the devious genetic masterminds behind our beautifully functional dysfunctionality. (I made up a psychological term, didn't I? Just call me Freud. No...don't...he was a quack.) I can only hope that Max will be as close to his siblings as we all are (granted, if we aren't broken when it comes time to having more kids...Max is giving us a run for our money!). My family is truly the coolest thing around, and I am so, so lucky.

That old, old Bebo Norman song "Somewhere Past the Quiet" always reminded me of my family, even though he is talking about him and his brother and his dad, and that's only three people, and there's actually six people in my family, but all details aside, it can totally apply to our fam. I'll have to write out the lyrics later because Max is so ready for his nap and I'm almost out of those tasty distractions Cheez-Its. Mommy Duty calls. Over and out, Ghostrider.

Like...

2005-09-13T21:42:00.000-05:00

Oh my gas. Sunkist is totally, like, liquid crack. Ohhhh, how I love being kissed by the sun. Sunkist!

On another note, I am a freaking gourmet chef. Seriously. Toot toot! That's me, tooting my own horn. Who'da thunk?

And...Law and Order: SVU is probably the greatest L & O branch out there. Detective Stabler looks like Buzz Lightyear. I really hope he doesn't have a mental breakdown this season. Olivia needs him. Ohhhhh, me.

I feel like that ADHD kid, bouncing around. Only my drug of choice is THE SUNKIST! Ahhhh...so delish. A'ight. I'm out like the fat kid in dodgeball...

Wow...

2005-09-13T14:08:00.000-05:00

I talked to a sweet, sweet friend of mine this morning and I found out in one conversation that she was pregnant (woohoo!) and has miscarried last Thursday (gasp). She and her husband are such sweet, loving people, a beautiful couple with two beautiful girls. Although they weren't trying to get pregnant quite so soon (their second daughter just turned two last May), they had accepted the news with excitement and had already grown attached to the baby. She calls it "their little Katrina" because it blew in and blew out so quickly, leaving so much destruction. There really is no way to describe the kind of feeling that comes with hearing that kind of news, I can barely imagine how she and her husband are taking it. And it is so hard to see from the outside how they are both grieving; I've found that it is harder for me to accept God's will in tragic situations that happen to people like them. In my own life, that's a different story; it's almost like I cope better firsthand. But the Harrisons are such loving people...they have been with Walden and me from the beginning of our relationship, when we began as friends, then began a courtship, throughout the mistakes we made, the ups and downs...and Sandra has really been one to weather the storms with me, spiritually guide me both as a mother and a wife. It is so...disturbing I guess is the best word...to watch them of all people face this kind of situation. My heart just hurts for them.

One thing I did want to share was the metaphor Sandra used to explain to her seven-year-old what had happened to her new sibling. The Lord says that He knits us together in our mother's womb. Well, little Lydia has been learning how to knit, and Sandra asked her what happens when she makes a mistake while knitting the chain, and Lydia said, "I undo it." And Sandra just continued to explain that the Lord was knitting together this little baby and somehow, something went wrong. So instead of continuing to knit together a child who has a chink somewhere in the chain, He just chose to undo it right now, and will start over later. That simple little metaphor really helped Sandra come to terms with the miscarriage, as well as helping my little mind accept that these things do happen to beautiful people.

In the very least, I'm anticipating what kind of good work the Lord is going to do through this situation. Sandra is an InterVarsity staff member at Maryville College and leads a women's Bible study at our church, so she is in position to use this as a ministry. I just get excited, not at the tragedy, but at the hand that guided this miscarriage and will usher us all -- not just the Harrisons, but everyone touched by them -- into a lesson of His character.

I have felt so thankful for Max and his health and intelligence, and how God chose to bless us with his birth and life. When I first found out I was pregnant with Max, I had a dream that I had miscarried. Not that I wanted to, but since we had gotten pregnant out of wedlock, a miscarriage would almost be like a solution -- we wouldn't be having an abortion, which we were completely against from the start, and we would have spared our parents, our friends, and the students we were leaders to the pain, doubt, and disappointment of finding out we screwed up big time. I know that makes me sound like a monster, but you'd be surprised what kind of things your subconcious comes up with when ridden with guilt.

Anyway, now I'm just rambling. I hate it. I hate it a thousand times. They do not deserve this. And I guess I'm just using this as an outlet to let out my frustration and sadness before seeing Sandra this week. I don't want to burden her with my emotions while she is so bogged down with her family's coping. Bless them, Lord. Ugh, I am so sick about this. Please, please pray for them.

Which to choose, which to choose?

2005-09-08T18:34:00.000-05:00

My church is starting a women's Bible study this Sunday and the two books we are debating between studying are: Living Free: Learning to Pray God's Word by Beth Moore, and A Beautiful Offering: Returning God's Love with Your Life by Angela Thomas. I've never heard of either of these authors, but both look great to me, just from what I've gathered. I don't guess we can really go wrong when we desire to stick our faces in the Word and dig deep.

If anyone has any experience with either author or book, please give a shout out. I'm really looking forward to this Bible study. I'm a little nervous, though, because we're meeting before church, which means Walden has to get Max and himself ready on his own without me! Last time Walden had to get Max ready by himself, we were going to a wedding and I had to be there early because I was a bridesmaid, aaaaaaand...Max showed up in his pajamas. No lie. Yikes. We'll see how God provides this Sunday...and I'm looking forward to it, because I know God has a sense of humor too... ;)

A'ight, homies. More lata, fly-dawgs. Peace out.

By the way...

2005-09-07T14:13:00.000-05:00

...who the heck decided it was a good idea to put nuts in every single brand of caramel corn?? That's like putting the seeds in fruit popsicles. Honestly, people. There are nut-lovers out there who could use them, sans the goodness of caramel corn. Don't waste. Now I have a no-good bag of caramel covered pecans that just took up space in an already too-small bag of caramel corn. Who thinks of these things? They ought to be fired.

Katrina and Myrtle

2005-09-07T13:51:00.000-05:00

I don't even know where to begin. Above everything, there's nothing like a national disaster on the scale of Katrina to make one realize how pointless things are. Where do I start? How can I help? It seems as if no matter what I do or how much we can afford to give, it won't be enough. Somewhere, my dollar stops. And as small and insignificant as that makes me feel, so much more so does it make me realize how great a provider God is. Where my dollar stops, and where everyone else's goodwill ends, the Lord's provision is only a fraction into it. Wow. This storm brought our nation to its knees, quite literally -- imagine the power behind that storm, the power of the Creator. That is mindboggling.

My cousin and her husband lived in New Orleans and are still unaccounted for. I'm pretty sure they made it out before the storm hit, and I'm pretty sure they're probably already back helping, because they are both doctors. But nonetheless, if you think of it, please pray for them. I'm comfortable thinking they are just swamped with the task of cleaning up, helping others medically and emotionally, and piecing their lives together. And I'm positive they are safe. I'll be sure to report on their safety once we hear from them.

On a much, much lighter note, Walden, Max, and I went to Myrtle Beach this past weekend with Walden's mom, brother, and stepdad. We had a blast! It was such a different pace from the life we live on a daily basis...especially the timing, in the aftermath of Katrina. It's wild how life goes on despite how much life has been lost. The news last night told stories of evacuees coming to Knoxville for shelter, students enrolling in UT, abandoned pets even being housed at the local animal shelters. And the closing note was that UT will still play LSU in two weeks as scheduled. My brother-in-law and his wife came over last night and we were just talking about how, when September 11th happened, the world stopped, football, schools, everything was on hold. And here we are, in a situation where loss of life is comparable to what happened almost four years ago exactly, and woohoo! UT and LSU are still on. And that that was one of the more important thing for Tennesseeans to know. I guess since LSU is higher ranked than good ol' UT, life is suspended on a string until we can prove who really is the better team. Blech.

Wait a second...I was supposed to lighten things up, wasn't I? Well, on that note, here's a picture of Max (left) and my mother-in-law's best friend's grandson, who all joined us at the beach. His name is Boyce and he's seven months older than Max. Until I saw how much Boyce had grown, I never thought I'd say that Max was small! Notice they have matching hoodies...a birthday present for Max from Boyce. It has their initials on the front. Why is it my son is the cutest kid in the universe?

On Discipline. And other ramblings.

2005-08-31T16:25:00.000-05:00

Here's the wild thing: I ran a 5K a couple of weeks ago. I know, amazing, right? Right. Well, out of the two hundred plus people running, I beat, maybe...ten people? And I'm probably being generous with myself. I used to run cross-country for Maryville College, and a 5K would have been like a warm-up two years ago. Pre-pregnancy Jessie would have laughed at the fact that it took me just under forty minutes to run 3.1 miles. Or cried. Whatever. I ran it with three other women I go to church with, one of whom has been training for the last nine weeks for this particular race. Needless to say, I came in last of our foursome, and all three of us came in behind the woman, Sandra, who had actually disciplined herself to run a 5K.

My personal preparation for the 5K was the spontaneous mile-run here and there, sporadic hits at the local gym, and the mentality that I was once a cross-country runner. Talk about living in the glory days.

As I dragged myself over the finish line (no, that's a lie. I actually ran my fastest that last half mile to give the illusion, I guess, that I still had "it") I realized how disgusted I felt with myself. Not because I was drenched in sweat (ew), but because several children had managed to beat my time, because I averaged a thirteen-minute mile, because I couldn't manage to run just three measly miles, because I had taken the 5K lightly...the list goes on. I thought the general feeling after participating in a 5K was one of accomplishment?

The reason I felt so disgusted with my performance was because I knew how good I used to be. I basically shrugged off the importance of disciplining my body to go the distance, staking a lot of my success (or, rather, failure) on what once was. Because of my pregnancy and the duties that come with being a full-time mom, exercise was one of the last things I did, much less train for a 5K. Now, I have every excuse in the book to shrug off exercise, and that's not entirely my point. The point is, I ran a race I was completely unprepared for, fully expecting to do, in the very least, mediocre. I did not expect, however, complete embarrassment. Not that I humiliated myself publicly...most everyone else was busy catching their breath, enjoying the after-race refreshments, or, God-forbid, running another mile to "cool down." But within myself and within the group I ran with...I was embarrassed. So much for expectations.

I guess you can tell where I'm going with this. At church the Sunday after the race, we talked about how the Lord disciplines us, how our relationship with Him is work, how listening to God is quite literally a practice, something we need to work on regularly. We talked about how discipline has always seemed to have a negative connotation, that it's hard to understand the discipline of God. But running that race, and honestly sucking at it, made me realize the art of discipline, the goodness of it, and the importance.

We cannot expect to finish strongly in this life -- Paul himself called life the "good race" -- without everyday disciplining ourselves, our physical, mental, and spiritual bodies. Sure, we can cross the finish line eventually, dragging our beaten, exhausted bodies, but my lack of discipline and endurance made the race a chore, wondering when it will be over, and when it was over, I felt empty, drained, and ashamed at my performance. Only when I become the runner I was meant to be will the race seem fulfilling, a sense of accomplishment, a fun way to spend a Saturday morning. What a great metaphor...I see why Paul chose to refer life as a marathon.

I believe God had every intention of making this life one of enjoyment, fulfillment, and fun. Not to say that there isn't any suffering. For instance, running will always be physically grueling...even when I ran five, six miles a day for fun, it still pounded on my body. But there was joy in that pain, purpose to that suffering. And I believe God had every intention of life being the same way. In order, though, to experience life the way He meant for us to, we must discipline ourselves in a way that makes us endure the hardships. We must learn the art of discipline, of listening to the Lord, of hearing Him and of pursuing His purpose. It is discipline because it goes against our very nature to run from God, to do things the easy way. But discipline doesn't need to have a negative connotation anymore, because of what we are disciplining ourselves for. Makes sense?

As a new parent, I now can see discipline in a better light, in a more panoramic sort of way. Being the giver of discipline now, I can see the bigger picture, how discipline ensures safety, how there's an art to it. What I mean is, discipline doesn't necessarily have to be iron-fisted, a tyranny. I've found that Max, my son, responds to my discipline out of love for me, he obeys me because he ultimately trusts me. There are times, yeah, when he reaches for the hot stove despite my shrieks of warning, and then he gets a little toasty. But overall, he knows what I mean when I say his name a certain way because he knows my voice. He knows my purpose is to keep him safe, that my job as his mommy is to provide for him, to meet his needs, to usher him toward a life of learning and discovering and adventure.

Me, an imperfect parent, who gets angry with Max when he squirms on the changing table...I can love him like that, discipline him in a way that binds his curiosity in a healthy way, show him he's done wrong without losing my temper and destroying that trust in a swift moment...imagine. Imagine how perfectly our Father disciplines us, how purposefully He tends to every moment of our lives, how every time He says "no" or requires a moment of our time, He hasn't inconvenienced us, or punished us, but in the great scheme of things is protecting us, providing for us, begging us to trust Him and His judgment, even encouraging us to explore, to have an adventure on His terms. And what exciting terms that can be.

So...that's what I've got to say for now. Something a little bit more substantial than the previous post, but hey, I can only be serious in a limited time frame.

So...

2005-08-30T18:08:00.000-05:00

Here I am, joining the bandwagon and starting a blog. I doubt I'll have anything substantial to say here, but this is just my space, a little corner of the world that belongs to me, where my brain can be Queen. Woo!

So this is my disclaimer I guess. You can keep reading, keep intruding into my life and my thoughts (just kidding...I have a flair for the dramatic, needless to say), but remember, you probably won't find any pieces of wit and wise around here.

Man, what a lame maiden post.