Illuminate.

The people who walked in darkness
    have seen a great light;
those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness,
    on them has light shone.

Isaiah 9:2

The concept of light is all over the scriptures.

You are the light of the world. (Matt. 5:14)

Light shines in the darkness. (Psalm 112:4)

Shine your light. (Matt. 5:16)

Moses glowed with the glory of God after meeting with Him on Mount Sinai. Jesus radiated light when he was transfigured in the presence of Peter, James and John. Adam and Eve began life in unimaginable beauty. They existed for who-knows-how-long in the perfection of Eden. No sin, no sickness, no death. They lived and loved and ate and drank and walked with God in the cool of the morning. All was well until the serpent slunk his way into the picture and bent Eve’s ear with half-truths and suggestions, to which she listened and succumbed.

Then suddenly, in an instant that could not be undone, they lost it all. We lost it all.

Then the eyes of both were opened, and they knew that they were naked.

Genesis 3:7

What happened? Why the sudden awareness of a state that, until that moment, had been perfectly acceptable?

I recently learned a theory that I believe to be entirely plausible. When you see the consistency with which unbroken, face-to-face fellowship with God results in the human radiating His glory, it is not a stretch to realize that this is exactly what we, you and I, were created for.

Adam and Eve were created to radiate, to glow. They literally shone with the glory of God, reflecting it to the earth around them. But when they sinned, the glory left them.

Suddenly they were naked. Bare. Exposed.

As a result we (and, dare I say, women?) would spend the rest of time trying to dress ourselves up, covering the dullness and finding our worth too often, in our appearance. We would no longer walk in the beauty of God’s radiant perfection. His light upon us went dim and we are ashamed.

But there is such hope for us! Jesus died for the very sins that robbed us of His Father and the light of His glory. He rose from the dead, ensuring that those who put their trust in Him will, too.

And you know what really blows my mind? When we receive our resurrected bodies, we will be as God intended us all along…radiant in His presence.

Friends, we will GLOW. All of us. Every nation, tribe and tongue.

Every race.

We will reflect the glory of God from brown, black and white skin tones. We will stand side-by-side, hand-in-hand as justice is served at last and we finally live fully as brothers and sisters, children of the living God, redeemed by the blood of the Lamb. There will be no division, no prejudice, no sense of superiority. Our lights will shine together, uniquely yet the same with God the Father being the eternal source.

My goodness, what a day that will be! Until then, we must remember who we are and whose we are, living forward into who we will be. We must fight against injustice and division here on earth, preparing this world for what is to come. We must build bridges and love one another well, regardless of zip code or shade of melanin. We were created to shine.

Might as well start now.

When You Can’t See the Ending.

The rain falls softly, dribbles of drops battering the downspouts as a sort of back-rhythm to the melancholy of damp dusk. In the distance I hear the lonely whistle of a train and I wonder where he is.

My son.

He graced us with his first visit this weekend, driving two hours to spend the night at home.

It made me giddily happy to see him pull into the driveway.

A little over 24 hours later he is back on the road, accompanied by his mama’s prayers and words of wisdom from his father. His car is loaded with clean laundry and a fresh supply of snacks to stash under the bed in his dorm. I’m thankful he is driving ahead of the rain and will have dry roads until he arrives.

I’ve thought a lot about God’s heart toward us this week as we have adjusted to the new normal. How often did God, though He knows the beginning and the end all at once, want to intervene when toddler Jesus teetered at the top of the steps? Or when he played with Joseph’s tools and nearly sliced off a finger?

How about when he was desperately hungry after forty days of fasting and the enemy slunk into the picture, determined to wreck the plans for God’s redemption of the world that had been in place before the beginning of time? Or as Jesus rode into Jerusalem on the donkey and the cross stood ready, a certain destination of torturous death for the spotless Lamb of God?

The unknown often gives me pause and drives me to my knees when I think about my childrens’ futures. But God? He does not experience the unknown. It is all known to Him. Good, painful, wonderful and exruciatingly horrific…He saw it all coming and chose to let it play out to the fullest extent necessary until His pupose, His eternal tapestry that we on this side of the veil can only see from the backside, was complete and the last knot securely tightened.

If I could see what was coming, and see how it all would end, would I be able to step back and let it play out? Or would I still be tempted to swoop in and rescue my babes from danger and trauma, even knowing that the suffering was part of God’s plan for their lives?

Oh, the conflict of a mother’s heart!

College, for me, is the most recent great unknown. We sent my oldest off at his request to experience life as an adult, independent and determined to follow his dreams. In a town I have only visited as a tourist, surrounded by people I do not know, influenced by authorities I probably don’t trust he now lives and is having to put to practice…or not…the things he has been taught from birth. Right vs. wrong, godly vs. ungodly, constructive vs. destructive…endless choices all await him now.

And the only thing I can do is pray.

Truly.

And what does that say about my faith when I say I can “only” pray? Isn’t prayer the most powerful tool we have been given by our gracious and merciful God?

Do I believe? Really?

Let me tell you, launching your firstborn son will make you put more stock in prayer and cry out to God on their behalf with more desperation, more faith, than you ever thought possible.

The result of all that tearful, sloppy prayer? Peace. When I am leaning in and storming the gates of Heaven on behalf of anyone, especially my kids, the Lord never fails to settle my heart and remind me that He is the perfect Father and knows how this is all going to end one day. That I can trust Him and that He loves my boy…in fact, both of my boys and all three of my girls…perfectly, completely, and with a love that allows suffering, hardship, and even failure to mold them into the image of Christ.

Which, after all, is the ultimate goal.

So let the rain fall. Let the storms come. My God, who did not spare His own Son, has every detail under control and I’m going to choose to trust Him with the unknown. What a gift to know He has my boy’s back. What a blessing to remember the faithfulness He has demonstrated since that day, over 19 years ago, when that seven pound baby was placed in my arms. I can, and must, trust Him.

On Finding Rest

It was the week of my forty-seventh birthday. I had booked a cabin in the middle of nowhere, on a sheep farm no less. For the first time in my life I would spend my birthday alone.

The kids were fine with it. They knew this had simply worked out to be the best block of time for me to go on a writing retreat. Between school/sports/work/dance/graduation/recital and laundry, y’all, I didn’t exactly have lots of weekends begging me to go away and watch the sun rise and set for three days!

So on Memorial day I hit the road. I had about a four hour drive ahead of me and determined to make it count. I stopped when I wanted to stop, ate when (and what!) I wanted to eat, and took advantage of every scenic overlook in the Blue Ridge Mountains to bask in the wonder of creation.

I won’t go into detail, but I will tell you that it was the slowest yet busiest three days I’ve ever spent. Busy?

Well, yes. Busy being not busy.

Because choosing to not be busy turns out to keep one’s mind very busy.

I turned off all social media. My ringer stayed on in case one of the kids needed to get hold of me. (I have a certain child who worries and needs to check in periodically) I settled into the beautifully restored cabin and didn’t even turn on the a/c. Due to the altitude and gentle breeze, I didn’t need it. The only sounds I heard were sheep, chickens, birds and barking dogs.

It was glorious.

I wrote like a mad woman. Page after page, dumping my brain onto the blank screen and acting as my own therapist. I finished the first edit of my novel, readying it for the “real” editor who would do the final cleanup. I prayed, I ate chocolate, and I slept like a baby.

The most surprising thing to me was the effect the electronic detox had on my thought life. It took hours-from the time I arrived at the cabin in mid-afternoon until I fell asleep-for my mind to calm down. I battled racing thoughts, not fears or worries, just a brain that refused to be quiet and had grown too accustomed to constant input. I found peace at last and was able to truly settle into prayer and read without feeling like I needed to get up and do something every few minutes.

I noticed every detail of the cabin, the land around it, and the sky above. I listened to the music of nature, tractors pulling hay-cutting equipment then baling it the next day, sheep and chickens going about their business and the farmer taking slow walks out into the pasture throughout the day to check on his wooly charges. I watched a puppy snap at a snake then yelp when the snake lunged at him. (Thankfully it missed.) I noticed butterflies and bluebirds, dragonflies and wasps, and I lit a candle in the lantern on the rickety table out back as I ate my dinner.

Hello, little friend.

How much do I miss in the business of real life? I’ll admit I’ve fallen back into old habits. I enjoy social media, probably too much, and have determined to reign it in as I begin my Theology and Apologetics classes. (Which I absolutely love…I’ll elaborate in a future post.) I am spending more time reading and less time scrolling, yet still my mind struggles to settle down and find a home on the pages before me.

But I’ve experienced the quiet, now. I’ve felt the peace of a settled heart and a mind at rest. I’ve slept the sleep of a body that has shed the day’s burdens and settled between the crisp white sheets of a plush, cozy bed. I’ve lived three days with the only busyness being that of a woman focused on better communion with my Lord and letting some things go.

Though I know it is not realistic to experience that level of quiet in my normal day to day, I believe God wants me to cherish the nuggets when I can. He calls me to be still and know. He beckons me to come away and let him remind me that I am his beloved and He is mine.

He admonishes me to turn off the glowing rectangle in my hand or on my lap and grasp the heavy pages of His love letter to me, letting the words penetrate my mind and quieten my soul.

May I listen. May we listen to the still, small voice that beckons us to come and drink of the living water. He offers true rest, for in that place of rest we will be renewed and restored.

I cannot give my family what I do not possess. Peace begets peace. Quiet begets quiet. Gentleness begets gentleness.

Time with Him, removed from all distractions, makes me a better wife and mom. It also makes me a better daughter of the King. He filled my cup and will continue to do so if I will but sit and soak in His presence, averting my gaze from the cares and distractions of this world and focusing in on the One who died for me. He will fill my cup to overflowing and the overflow will spill onto those I love the most.

Well water. Healthy and so delicious.

In quietness and rest is my strength. May I remember this important truth when storms threaten and I’m tempted to fret instead of drawing close to my Father.

Scratch That.

Sometimes it’s ok to be a quitter.

That is really hard for me to write. I am one who prides myself on seeing things through, plowing through the hard stuff and checking the box when I’m finished.

But I quit my Algebra class.

I was doing fine, had a high B average and learned a ton about Algebra. (Which had nothing to do with Apologetics, the whole reason I even googled classes to start with.)

I spent the first half of the summer working hundreds of problems, staying up late at night and feeling like life was slipping by as my kids played at the pool and I sat out on the fun.

Is that really what God was calling me to do?

But I had started and, darn it, I was going to see this through. I would show my kids what it looked like to do hard things and remove the potential stumbling block of not having an actual “degree” as I pursued God’s call to write and teach. My friends would admire my tenacity. I’d make my man proud. (See a pattern? An ugly one?)

Then a dear friend came over and loved me enough to challenge me.

She, a math whiz (an accountant!), took one look at my Algebra book. “What does this have to do with Apologetics?”

I explained it was the only general studies course I lacked. I told how I wanted to pursue a degree to remove the stumbling block.

“You do realize there will always be a stumbling block of some kind, right?”

Well, yes, I guess so.

“Is it possible that there is another way to get the training you need without placing such a burden on your time?”

Maybe…well, actually I know there is. It’s just not as “glamorous.” (Ouch, the pride monster has bitten.)

Long story short…I quit the class. I prayed for direction. Then I waited.

Within a couple of weeks I was presented another opportunity…a two-year program that will train me and educate me for ministry. Instead of ten-to-twelve hours of study per week, it will require four. I can do that. I will attend actual live classes once a week, the best part being that it will be alongside friends and leaders from my church. I will not be sitting in front of a computer, alone. I will be interacting and immersed in theology and apologetics and community and I could not be more excited.

God worked out all the details very quickly. He is nodding as I move forward, showing me that yes, this is it. This is the right path. He is preparing me for the second half of my life while allowing me to still enjoy long afternoons with my youngest children who only have six years left of homeschool. Six. That time will be gone in the blink of an eye.

Trust me, I know. I’m about to send my firstborn to college in two short weeks.

I tell you all of this because I am learning, through my own stumbling and false starts, that God sometimes places a passion in our hearts and allows us to explore the options. Then, in love, He redirects us gently. He refines our path, shutting and opening doors, allowing storms and frustration to steer us until we are sailing smooth with the moonlight reflecting off the calm waters as we dock on the other side of our calling. I’m getting in the boat. I’m ready. And I am looking forward to getting out on the other side to use what He is going to teach me to lead women and girls to Jesus Christ through writing, teaching and community.

He has the plan in place. What a humbling realization that He would use me.

I’m yours, Lord. Let’s do this.

Endings and beginnings.

I took my dog for a walk this morning, noting the silver slug trails scribbled across the sidewalk. The light of dawn made them shimmer and become almost beautiful. For the first time in several weeks, I felt inspired to sit down and write.

The flowers in the South are in full bloom, knockout roses scenting the air and daisies standing tall behind the monkey grass edging the flower beds. My potted plants struggle to survive due to my occasional neglect and I find myself flooding them in order to rescue them from the wilt. I have great dreams of gardening in the Spring when the weather is cool which quickly wither in the oppressive heat of Summer.

I haven’t written a thing since my retreat in May. It was three glorious days of driving through incredible scenery along the Ocoee River and through the Blue Ridge Mountains. I finished my novel (yay!) and wrote whatever crossed my brain in the moment. Pages upon pages were laid down-my way of figuring things out, straightening what had become crooked, and reconnecting with God in the quiet of a sheep farm in Georgia. It was heaven on earth. Then, I came home and hit a creative wall. Oh, I’ve started a few posts, scrolled mindlessly through social media and shared a few memes and photos, but nothing of substance has been produced due to various circumstances.

First, I started back to school and I’ll just tell you, College Algebra is hard. I’m a writer, not a math brain, so it is stretching and challenging me in a myriad of ways. Not all of them constructive. I have sighed, cried, and sought every way I can imagine to get out of taking this class, but the fact is it is a basic requirement of a bachelor’s degree and it is the only general studies course I didn’t take back in the early nineties. It’s been a long, long time but it has to be done. Thank God for my brilliant husband who remembers all of this stuff! He has saved my academic life!

Second, Summer has been busier than I would like. Last year I felt like we spent endless, luxurious days by the pool, reading and splashing and meeting neighbors. This year has been filled with appointments, camps, preparing my oldest to transition to college, a trip to the beach…and math! All of these things are good and necessary but I find myself just wanting to be home, curled up on the sofa with a good book. (But, I really need to catch up on laundry.)

Third, we had to say goodbye to our beautiful, majestic, tender-hearted German Shepherd. What we thought was an ear infection turned out to be advanced cancer. We didn’t have time to wrap our heads or hearts around it but we had to put him down. I can’t describe the heartache of holding that huge head, looking into his soulful eyes and telling him what a good boy he was as he succumbed to the anesthesia. We all were there, weeping, as my husband read a prayer over our dog and we let him go. Grief has hit in waves and our yard feels so empty without his 120 pound presence. He was a big boy with an even bigger heart and we hurt.

Fourth and finally, in our grief we couldn’t be satisfied with one little dog who was lonely and lost without her best friend. We watched Hollie mope around and lose all of her mojo and we knew we needed to bring joy into our family quickly. Yes, we got a puppy(!) and that has been good and right therapy. She is a Cavachon-a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel/Bichon Frise mix. Like someone told me who had recently lost a beloved dog, if I have to be sad, at least I can be sad with a puppy. We named her Clara June and she is a sweet, soft bundle of snuggles who is healing our hearts and teaching our Hollie about playfulness and the fun of pouncing on a toy once again. Hollie isn’t sold on her just yet, but she is making baby steps that direction. Hollie gives a killer side-eye, though. Her shih-Tzu expression is consistently sour mixed with a healthy dose of annoyed at this new little sister who is full of puppy energy. We have laughed a lot this past week and I am grateful for that. Puppy breath is good therapy.

So, here I am. I still intend to write about my retreat back in May. I have incredible pictures to share and stories of how God met me there but today I just wanted to stop by and say hi. I wanted to share a bit of real life that has been happening and just check in with you as July dawns and we in the South hunker down to endure the summer heat. I hope you are able to enjoy some long mornings. I, for one, have to get up early to enjoy my devotionals outdoors or else I end up being driven inside by the humidity and bugs!

God is faithful. He is near. He is moving in the good and the hard and I’m grateful to be reminded of that. I have felt more dependent on him in recent days, even in the midst of massive struggles to form coherent prayers at times. But He reminds me to cast all of my cares upon Him for He loves me.

I think we could all stand to be reminded of that, don’t you?

Happy 4th of July (if you are in the United States)! As we celebrate the country in which God has ordained us to live, may we be good stewards of the freedom we enjoy and use it for the glory of God and the advancement of the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

Retreating

It’s been a dream of mine for while, now, to get away to somewhere remote and just write.

No noises.

No distractions.

Just for a couple of days.

Because of the sweet generosity of my husband, who gifted me this very thing last Christmas, my bags are packed as I type.

As soon as I water my flowers and load up the car I will be hitting the road for my destination…an 1880’s cabin on a sheep farm in Georgia!

I am so ready and, to be honest, a little nervous. I’m a solid extrovert so this extreme removal from society and social media is going to challenge me! I pray the quiet of the farm will seep into my mind, allowing God more room and opportunity to speak.

I will be writing as much as I can hammer out, while cleaning up the novel I recently finished and preparing to send it off to an editor. I will also take lots of photos, documenting this unusual experience to mark it as a stone of remembrance, for I do believe the Lord is going to move over the next two days!

Oh, and remember that little thing called College that I started last week? In order to get away like this I have been doing algebra like a crazy woman.

Algebra.

It’s been almost thirty years since I was in high school and, y’all, college algebra is NO JOKE. (Thank the LORD for my amazing husband who remembers all of it! He has happily sat with me and talked me through negative fractional exponents and seventh root variables, preventing my mind from, very literally, melting) I asked him, the other night, why this is so hard for me (I may or may not have been on the verge of tears) and he said, in his calm, matter-of-fact tone, “Because you are a writer.” And then I was ok.

I don’t have to be good at everything. I just have to pass algebra so I can move on to the classes that spark my passion. I just have to pass.

All that to tell you, I will NOT be taking algebra with me to the farm!

So, with that I’m off to water the flowers and hit the road! If you think about it, I would be so honored if you would pray for me as I travel and leave my babes. They always get a little said when mama leaves, as do I.

Until I return, happy Memorial Day! And thank you to our men and women who gave all for our freedom. There is no greater love.

Endings and Beginnings

I have so much I could say, but it is ten o’clock on Monday evening and this mama is dog-tired. I’ll try to keep it short 🙂

My oldest child graduated from high school yesterday. Finis. They say not to blink, and I’m glad I didn’t because I watched his life flash before my eyes countless times over the past weeks. Ceremonies and send-offs and speeches, oh my. My heart is full and my tears are bittersweet, for this boy I cradled in awe is now a man and the Lord has His hand all over him.

Praise be to God.

He will head off to college in the Fall, thankfully only and hour and a half from home so he can easily visit. Lots. And I will join the ranks of mamas who rejoice when all their chicks are home in the nest because we remember those sweet, sweet days when they were little and we all just had so much fun.

Yes, it’s an ending, but it is also a very exciting beginning. One that we have raised him to be ready for. One that will bring challenge and maturity and will make my boy into a man. I pray he will be a godly one. I believe he will.

An ending and a beginning. A new season of family life with one down, four to go, and mama is finally having a little time on her hands.

So I have to tell you, recently an internet searched ensued and, the next thing I knew, I was going back to college! Yes, me. At 46 (almost 47!). What am I thinking?

Well, lots of things, but mostly about the need for women to be educated in the things of God, to combat the lies permeating our culture and womens’ ministries, and for me to write out of a place of training and deeper knowledge so that, together, we can discern truth and discard the dangerous false teachings that seem to be absolutely everywhere these days.

I’m going back to school with the long-term goal of completing my once-abandoned bachelor’s degree and writing for the Church in some form. I will be using Liberty University Online, which will give me the flexibility I need to even begin to take this on, and majoring in Religion with an Apologetics Cognate.

I am excited, and I am nervous because, y’all, I have to take MATH. College Algebra, to be exact! I am beginning this week so, if you think of me, will you pray? I am getting Math out of the way first so I don’t spend any more time dreading it. I still have much homeschooling ahead but I believe I can fit in one class. I’m not in a hurry. I have no idea what to expect time-wise so I’ll take it one class at a time until my kids are grown. It will take a few years to finish, but I am looking forward to the process and what I will learn in those years. I’ll share with you as much as I can but, I’m sure you understand that I probably won’t be here every week. I’ll be writing my fingers off and this sweet little internet home will have to take a back seat. I’ll post here when I am able, and I’ll be sure to let you know when I do.

Thank you for praying and thanks for understanding that I’ll be a bit more sporadic for a while:) Something’s got to give, right?

The Truth about Truth.

How many times have you heard the phrase, “That’s my truth” or “Well, I believe…” and cringed?

How often do those words feel off, somehow, but you don’t know how to articulate why?

The church is in trouble, friend. There are so many false gospels, weak Jesuses, and works-based religion disguised as Christianity infiltrating the church that we hardly recognize it any more.

Or do we? Maybe we do recognize truth, but choose to ignore it.

Around the world, in countries where believers are persecuted and imprisoned or killed for merely owning a Bible or sharing Jesus with a friend, the church is thriving and growing at an exponential rate. But here in the US?

Boy, we have it too good.

We are so comfortable in our freedom and luxury that we have time to sit around and think of new ways to jack things up. We have watered down, tainted and twisted the words of the Bible so much that, unless you are a committed student of the Bible and understand what is at stake, church has become irrelevant…nothing more than a club of people who like the idea that Jesus loves them and want to do nice stuff to make others feel good so that it makes their version of Jesus look good.

But their version of Jesus is not Jesus.

We have lost our first love. We have allowed ourselves to be so distracted by what others think of us and how we practice our faith that we have begun to incorporate the practices of religions that are abominations to God, practices that were expressly forbidden, and cloaked them in a “Christian” robe to make them palatable.

It’s like putting a tiny bit of poop in a pan of brownies, all fun and games until you realize what you have eaten.

Spit it out. Spit the whole thing out. Go back to the basics of who God is, who Jesus is and who the Holy Spirit is. We need them. All of them. Without one of them we do not have all of God. He has told us how He wants to be worshiped. We must stop adding to what He has given us! God is simple in his expectations, we are the ones who make things complicated!

In 1 Samuel 15, Saul was given clear instructions by God to destroy the Amalekites. When God said destroy, he meant it. He wanted there to be nothing left…complete annihilation.

Saul went to work, but began to tweak the plan.

What could be wrong with capturing the king and making him suffer a little? And what about those fat, robust cattle and sheep? Wouldn’t those be great to use as an offering…sure would be a good reminder to God and the people of all that Saul and his men had accomplished, right? There were a lot of nice things among the Amalekite possessions and it would seem wasteful to destroy all of them.

But God had said they were to destroy everything and everyone, to completely wipe the Amalekites from the face of the earth. He knew what would happen down the road if even a remnant was left to survive…trouble that would resurface time and again. Samuel did most of what God asked, but did not follow completely through and God’s response is very telling. In verse 10 he actually says he regretted making Saul king because Saul had turned away from him and not carried out his instructions.

But wait, hadn’t Saul done most of it?

Sure, but most is not what God had asked for. He wanted ALL of it.

When Samuel confronted Saul about his neglect, Saul was defensive. “But I did obey the Lord!” he answered in verse 20. “The troops took sheep and cattle from the plunder-the best of what was set apart for destruction, to sacrifice to the Lord your God at Gilgal.”

Then in verse 22 Samuel said to Saul,

“Does the Lord take pleasure in burnt offerings and sacrifices as much as in obeying the Lord? Look, to obey is better than sacrifice. To pay attention is better than the fat of rams.”

Then Samuel said, “For rebellion is like the sin of divination, and defiance is like wickedness and idolatry.”

Let that sit and stew for a while.

Not following through with the complete instructions God had given him was like Saul trying to write his own ending to the story. His defiance and determination to shape things to his liking was wicked and idolatrous…a type of self-worship.

Isn’t that what is happening in the church today? We play with “new” ideas, like mindfulness and meditation, hoping it brings us closer to God. But we are told to take every thought captive (never to empty our mind) and we are told to meditate on scripture, not try to achieve some ethereal state. We even take God’s command to love one another and turn it into accepting the hedonistic lifestyles that have filled our streets and computer screens, going so far as to call them holy and acceptable to God when practiced within the (arbitrary) boundaries of the (new and improved) church. Love brings in the sinner, yes, but it never stands by and endorses what will surely bring death and destruction to the very people we have been called to reach. Satan’s first lie was “Did God really say?” and, today, many Christians still march to the beat of that drum. We don’t like being told “no”, “wait”, or “not like that”. We want our way and we will twist whatever Bible verses necessary to get it. But we are only going to be successful under the sun for a little while for when we stray from what we have been clearly instructed to do we are inviting the enemy of our souls to come on in and have a seat whether we like it or not.

I don’t know about you, but I don’t want the devil any where near me.

Now we can say, “Well, for me it’s different”, “That isn’t my truth”, or “It’s just who I am” but it really doesn’t matter. God’s truth is the only truth. Who God says you are is who you are. Truth is true whether we believe it or not. Seeking an experience or identity outside of the umbrella of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit then trying to Christianize it is dangerous and leading countless people (including Christians who have been believers for decades!) down a path of New Age Spirituality, Eastern Mysticism, Progressive Christianity and even to Agnosticism and Atheism! We have everything we need in the Bible. God has been crystal clear and we must stay laser focused on Him and the calling He has placed on our lives.

You might think this is legalism, but that is not what is happening here. God wants obedience from his children. We would be wise to take him seriously and love our brothers and sisters enough to encourage them to do the same. Loving as God loves means we will have to stand for truth. It means we will not be popular and likely accused of being a “Jesus freak” or judgemental. But God’s love never fails. It is the only one that can change hearts and lives and the only love that can save and secure a soul for all of eternity through Jesus’ death, burial and resurrection!

Truth is true, whether we believe it or not.

Stopping to Smell the Roses

It’s an intense season. I’ve been immersed in all things “end of school” and barely have time to breathe, much less write.

My firstborn graduates from high school in less than two weeks, which does not seem possible since he just started Kindergarten five minutes ago. But, alas, it’s true and we are about to launch a child into this world. Scary, exciting, emotional…I’m feeling all the variety of feels right now! (I’m ok. Really.)

My self-imposed therapy has varied…reading, writing when I have time, and long walks through our beautiful, Spring-cloaked neighborhood. The sun has browned my shoulders a bit and my feet are readjusting to the feel of flip-flops. Finches grace the new bird feeder out back and the roses are blooming. Creation declares His glory and it is outdoors I go when I need to be refueled. A long walk or run, podcast or music in my earbuds and a prayer on my lips as I commune with my Father is truly the best medicine.

So, this week is different. I have a post I’m working on that I’ll share soon but I feel the need to just enjoy the beauty of Spring today. I haven’t edited these photos at all, just posting them straight from my iPhone.

No filter needed.

Just unfiltered worship to our God who created the beautiful seasons.

Enjoy:)

My wake up each morning. Best alarm clock in the world.

The first rose of the season. Made my kitchen smell lovely:)

My daughter and Danny sitting with me as the day warms.

Horses in the pasture grace our front yard and, after a year and a half, I still want to pinch myself when I realize I get to see this every day. So thankful.

Self-imposed Misery

You may not consider this a “joyful” post, but bear with me. I believe what I have to say is important for us to understand.

Over the past few weeks I have been working my way through the Bible with the intent of reading it cover to cover by the end of summer. Yesterday I finished the book of Judges and thought, ‘Whew, I’m glad that is over.’

I told my husband it read like a horror movie at times, just one miserable story after another. A vicious cycle of sin, consequences, crying out to God, his mercy, then the people forgetting and starting the whole thing over again. Sometimes I read a story, certain that I was misunderstanding it…that surely God would not expect them to do that.

Take, for instance, Jephthah in the eleventh chapter of Judges. He thought it would be a good idea to “make a deal” with God in order to ensure victory against the Ammonites.

And Jephthah made a vow to the Lord and said, “If you will give the Ammonites into my hand, then whatever comes out from the doors of my house to meet me when I return in peace from the Ammonites shall be the Lord’s, and I will offer it up for a burnt offering.”

Judges 11:30-31

Note that this was instigated, not by God, but by Jephthah.

So Jephthah wins the battle and Israel conquers the Ammonites. All is well and good until his only child, his daughter, comes out of the house with her tambourine. Dancing.

I’m sure his heart exploded in terror as he realized the vow he had made. He had expected to sacrifice an animal.

Not his child.

It is hard for us to fathom following through on a vow such as this as Jephthah did, especialy through our Western filter. But in that time, and in that culture, such things were commonplace among the Pagan religions and idolotrous worship practices and it appears Jepthah had allowed his theology to be influenced by his surroundings.

Sound familiar?

Note, again, that God expecting Jephthah to follow through is not mentioned. Jephthah dug this hole. Jephthah made this bed. He had even trained his daughter, as well, to the point where she apparently did not question his decision. She grieved that she would die unmarried, but accepted that she would be sacrified.

What in the world?

How is this possible?

But look at our world, friends. Every day, children march into battle toward certain death because they have been taught from infancy that to die for their god is honorable and will be met with great reward. It happens in Africa and the Middle East and it happens here, in America.

Children are sacrificed and sent into war, as collateral in trafficking and abuse, and through abortion. Sometimes they are aware of what they are being asked to do but have been brainwashed into accepting it. Often, though, they have no idea why they are facing abuse or death at the hands of those who should be protecting them. The place where they should be the most safe…among their families, in the home or in the womb…is where their lives come to a tragic end.

Jephthah made a vow, one that God did not ask of him and, I believe, one on which God did not expect him to follow through. His misery was self-imposed because he had added to the rules God had already put in place.

Jesus plus nothing equals everything. That is as true now as it was back then. Every time God’s people decide to add to their status and “holiness” by keeping extra rules or striving beyond their neighbors to win the heart of God they fall…and fall hard.

The reason for this is simple. As children of God, those who have accepted His Son as our savior, we already have His heart. We are holy, chosen, and dearly loved. He goes before us and fights for us because we are His and He has promised to do so. We do not have to bargain with Him and would be wise not to try because we will only heap misery upon ourselves by doing so.

I believe God had already planned to give Israel the victory over the Ammonites. It was part of the story He had written before Jephthah was even born, the saga of the unbreakable covenant made with Abraham when God stopped him from doing the very thing Jephthah thought he now had to do. In making the vow, Jephthah put his own hand on the wheel, seeking a modicum of control over the outcome.

The result was disaster.

A daughter, dead at the hands of her father.

This was but one tragic end to a story wrought with terrible decisions for years leading up to this point and that would continue for millenia.

We rebel, we suffer, we fall.

We cry out for mercy and our God gives it knowing full well we will forget and repeat the sin-cycle all over again.

But we must understand that only Jesus can stop the cycle. Only the Lamb that was slain can conquer death which relentlessly hunts us down. And only the Risen Lord can deliver us from our self-made graves into life everlasting.

Praise God. Praise God for His patience because, y’all, we have got to drive Him nuts.

Do we ever learn?

For the sake of the next generation, I pray so.

But I’m not holding my breath.