Finding Balm in Gilead

It Will Not Be Unredeemed

It is so good to be at home.

While I wouldn't trade our Disney trip right before Christmas, I am loving just hanging out at home in our pajamas until noon, enjoying this last week of the Christmas tree and decor, and being with my people. And drinking peppermint tea. And looking for good recipes involving black-eyed peas for New Year's Day.

And..... cleaning up after my children and their new sets of playdough, a Christmas gift from my brother. It was my suggestion, since I know how they love to create all sorts of playdough masterpieces, but now I'm wondering what I was thinking when my brother asked me what they might like for Christmas.

While we seem to be all well now, I'm not sure that we're out of the woods yet on this virus our whole family seems to be passing around. Cash is still pale four days later, Gracie is feeling warm and coughing some this morning, and I still feel the need to drink crazy amounts of honey and lemon and peppermint tea. So for that reason alone, it's good to be at home.

I can't wait to share with you the tales of our Disney experience but alas, I haven't downloaded the pics yet, and people....you need pics and so do I. We had a ball, and we seemed to hit it just right on the weather, for the most part. We did a different park every day, rode all sorts of rides, and encountered all sorts of characters, princesses, food items, and gift shops galore.

But the point of this post is not to give you a recap of our Disney adventure - THOUGH THAT ONE WILL BE COMING IN TWO PARTS, DEAR FRIENDS.  Actually, the point of this post is to continue my thoughts from the other day and share with you a Christmas/New Year hope and prayer.

I love the Christmas holidays. I love the excitement and anticipation of the whole season. I love the wreaths, the jingle bells, the trees, the lights, the food, the nativity. I love the wonder of it all. I love the hope of the coming new year. I feel certain we all do.

And this year, the wonder of our Christ child's birth is especially poignant and meaningful for me, because through a series of family events, and some huge life lessons, and some serious inner workings of my heart, it seems the theme of the year has been hope.

Hope for restoration. Hope for new beginnings. Hope for redemption.

So, after a year of some hard situations and a truly acute realization in so many areas of my life of just how much I need Jesus, I am particularly grateful and awestruck and humbled by this season of Christ's birth. For through Him and what He did for us, we are saved.

We are saved....and because we are saved, our past, present, and future is redeemed by the blood of the Lamb. Praise the King of Kings.

So that's the theme of this year.... and my prayer for the new one. I'm believing God for that redemption in several parts of my life and those lives of whom I love. The words of this wonderful song recorded by the Christian group Selah sum up my heart on the matter......

For every choice that led to shame
And all the love that never came
For every vow that someone broke
And every lie that gave up hope
We live in the shadow of the fall
But the cross says these are all
Places where grace is soon to be so amazing
It may be unfulfilled
It may be unrestored
But you never know the miracle the Father has in store
Just watch and see
It will not be unredeemed


Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.

Fantastic Friday Giveaway Day

***Edited for more specifics on the giveaway.

In honor of the fact that:

 - it's Friday

 - I have new dining room chairs after six months of using chairs of the card table variety

 - my dear in-laws are taking us all to Disney World next week - yippee

 - I'm claiming healing over a nasty cough I've been battling all week

 - there is a new shiny silver something sitting in my driveway that I can't drive until tomorrow because of some incredible new deal on insurance that J whipped up

 - my boy is almost potty-trained

 - my girl is a continual delight of verbal expresssion

 - I made pralines this week, and some really good graham cracker toffee bars

 - my heart is hopeful for redemptive, healing and miraculous things to come in both of our extended families

.....in honor of all these things, I'm giving away this beautiful glass plate:

 

This plate is from the Ganz company of "fusion" style plates. I already have one, and I want you to have one too!!! Fusion plates are beautiful decorative items around your home AND are also food friendly!

You know, I haven't had a Celebration Day in a while, but this plate is a great reminder that we all have good reason to celebrate, even if certain prayers haven't yet come to pass. I'm learning to be content in knowing that, pardon the expression, God has got my back. Even those things in my life that are still huge heart-cries....and you know what I'm talking about - those prayers that hurt and tighten your heart just to think about them - those heart-cries are already heard and answered in heaven. God has said "Yes".....and it's up to me to say "Amen."

Your heart-cries are being answered as you speak, friends - perhaps not in the way you may desire, but it will be better than you can imagine when God is in charge of it.

So celebrate with me today those fun, good things that are happening in your life, whether it be a gingerbread latte you purchased at Starbucks this morning, or the fact that you found a really great gift for your mom or mother-in-law who already has everything, or even better: you got some really good sleep last night.

And don't forget to celebrate those heart-cries being worked out in the spirtual realm at this very moment.

Leave a comment as to what you are celebrating today, and I'll randomly draw a winner and post on Monday. Since this my first giveaway, and I don't really know how the big-wig bloggers handle this kindof stuff, I'll do my best to make this as smooth as possible. And that in itself will be reason to celebrate.

Love to you. Get your party hat ON. The battle has been won!

And Autumn Arrives.....

It's beautiful up here in the northern Panhandle of Texas. The air is just now beginning to turn crisp in the mornings, and slowly....gradually... it is staying cooler throughout the day. The leaves are falling, the sun is in a different place, and my desire to cook elaborate, tummy warming soups and comfort foods has returned after a semi-hiatus over the hot and dry (and did I say hot?) summer.

Fall is my absolute favorite time of year.

Just last week, the kids and I made our annual trip out to the pumpkin patch about fifteen or so miles outside our little small town. Of course, by the time we got there at eleven in the morn, the crispness of the early hours had completely WORN OFF, and it was blazing hot. However, we had a ball hunting for unusual and interesting pumpkins, even though we about collapsed from a heat stroke. I left my camera in the car while we were in the depths of the patch, but before we loaded up, I managed to take a few pics:

 

 

We found a bunch o' pumpkins, people.

The real fun (for me anyway) began when we got home and started placing our pumpkins strategically on our front porch - otherwise know as the stoop. The stoop is rather confining, ya'll. How I dream of someday having a big, wrap-around southern porch with white railings and big rockers to sit in. And yet..... this ole' stoop with the yellow door and the big "jumangi jungle" bushes on either side of it is precious to me. It's easy to sweep off, and it's the site of many fun conversations with the kids.

 

 

Above, is Gracie's "pink" pumpkin, although as J says, it looks diseased. But it's interesting, at the very least.

 

And this above is Cash's "blue" pumpkin, although it isn't really that blue. However, the male and female chromosomes in this household are categorized by blues and pinks. ALL THE TIME. If Gracie has a pink cup, Cash must have a blue cup. If there is pink bubblegum to be had, there most certainly must be some blue bubblegum somewhere. If there is a "pink" pumpkin in the patch, there's got to be a "blue" one out there, too. Hence, the above "BLUE" pumpkin.

Later that evening, Gracie got a wild hair to go outside with the flashlight, since it's getting darker earlier and earlier here. So we went out and sat on the stoop and ran up and down the sidewalk with the flashlight, shining it in each other's eyes. The evening was crisp, the stars were twinkling, and it was FALL.

 

Gracie, my adventurous one, loved the idea of playing outside in the dark, but my boy...my baby...was not too keen on the idea. Immediately after this photo, he made a beeline for the front door. "Ist too scwary out hwere," he says.

And so, in this part of the world, the arrival of fall signals the beginning of harvest time. Since my in-laws are farmers and my husband is in the seed business as well as farming, we are heavy into the busyness and hard work of reaping the harvest. It is a crazy time as everyone awaits and compares yields on their various crops (mainly corn), and makes plans for the next year based on those numbers. While an exciting time for all, it's also nerve-racking too, as we wait to see if the choices, hard labor, and risks taken in hopes for a better crop were all worth it.

I can't help but apply this harvest concept to my own spiritual life as well . Situations and events from years past in my extended family have recently come full circle, and a reaping of sorts has begun. Is it a good harvest? Depends on how you look at it. While there is some major HAIL DAMAGE, and the early numbers point to a disaster crop, I am hoping that there are bushels and bushels of new seed hiding underneath these broken and bruised stalks. New seed not only for my extended family, but for me personally as well.

Isn't that the hope in God that we all have? That somewhere, beneath our wind-beaten, bug infested, weary facade, there is a new and better seed growing?

You know, somewhere it says that the harshest conditions often produce the strongest, most stable seed.

I may have sort of made that up. But I've seen something along those lines somewhere. I should probably research it, but my kids are waking up right now and my writing time is coming to a close.

At any rate, that new seed born out of less than ideal circumstances is my harvest prayer, for what it's worth.

And it's worth it to me.

Happy Fall, Y'ALL!

The Wheat Germ Weekly, Celebration Day Edition II

That's right people. Today is Celebration Day. It's a day to celebrate the answered prayers of the past....AND THE FUTURE.

Today is a day to get down on your knees and speak into existence those prayers you are waiting to be answered on earth.

Today is the day to know that you know that you know  those same prayers that you are fighting for here on earth have already been answered in the heavenly realms - in a better way than you could ever dream.

I nearly didn't observe Celebration Day today because the last four nights have been spent doctoring my son who started out with what I thought was a harmless, typical allergy cough DUE TO THE BLASTED ELM TREES THAT ARE BUDDING. But the cough isn't going away - despite the major vitamins I've been giving him -  and it seems to be getting worse. We're headed to the doctor later this morning.

Frankly, I'm exhausted from lack of sleep, and my heart wasn't quite wanting to leap into celebration mode this morning......and that's precisely why I need to celebrate. I've been blah all week, had no exercise, and have consumed every bread product known to man in order to "keep up my energy."

Right.

What my soul needs right now is some celebration - regardless of my physical well-being. That's the whole point of this practice...to celebrate EVEN when the chips are down. When there is no miracle in sight. When you're too tired to care.

So....I'm dragging out my homemade celebration poster that I rescued from the Great Laundry Room Flood of January 2010, and I'm hanging it - crinkled edges and all - front and center over the kitchen island. J is cooking ribs for customers today, and he's grillin' extra for us tonight at home - glory be! So now, we just need a veggie or two and of course, we can't forget dessert. I might as well finish my week of carb consumption strong with something extra gooey and yummy.

Gracie gladly went to Ms. LuAnn's today - I'm sure to escape all the coughing and wailing that's going on around here - and so Cash and I are going to crank up the praise music, get our dancing shoes on, probably clean some bathrooms, and praise God for all that He has done and all that He will do.

I need this. I suspect perhaps that you do too. He's fighting the fight for us, people.

And He's already won. Glory Hallelujah.

Sacred Hands

Nothing is "sacred" anymore in my house.

Any glass of water in my hand is fair game for four little ice-lovin', cold water immersin' , sling it all over the floor hands.

Ingredient-filled mixing bowls must be investigated by four questionably clean hands who like to dig and taste-test the goods. (Try to forget about that if you ever are invited over for dinner at our house.)

It doesn't matter where I store utensils in the kitchen, because they like to move around.....colanders usually end up on someone's head, and  whisks are usually playing the drums on the colander that is on top of someone's head. Measuring spoons can be found in Gracie's baby stroller, and just the other day I found my cooling rack grill being used as some sort of bed for the baby doll( of course the baby was  on a blanket because the grill was "hot").

Gracie's supersonic hearing usually picks up on the clink of my nightly cup of lemon zinger tea AFTER she's been put to bed. Immediately she is out of bed, down the hall, and there to help me finish drinking the tea ....and vying to get every last drop of honey in the bottom.

I can't even begin to tell you about my makeup drawer.

Stool + bathroom sink + soap pump + water + drain stopper = time to change clothes and mop bathroom.

Any keys remotely important must be placed VERY HIGH.

Pillar candles have little indentations on them - I believe you would call that teethmarks.

I can't tell you how many times someone secretly set my alarm for 4 a.m.

Gracie is now strong enough to open the refrigerator. Cash thinks it's great.

Tonight, we were having brownies for dessert at the dinner table and Gracie grabbed my glass, took a big gulp of water, and then set it down casually saying,"Mom, I left some brownie in there for you."

The other day, they both got into my unmentionables drawer, and came out with my underwear on their heads.

I am ALWAYS accompanied to the bathroom where I am handed toilet paper, assisted in flushing, and asked if I get a quarter from Daddy for going potty.

The list goes on......

I know that none of this is new to any mother of young children. Many of these stories are pretty darling and create picture-taking moments. However, it seems that the more "sacred" and unbothered I try to keep something in the house, the more of a target it becomes. (Of course, I do enforce safety without apology and I watch my kids closely - I'm not here passing out matches...)

Anyway, in the midst of all the amusement, I certainly get frustrated sometimes when I can't find my spatulas, I can't drink a glass of tea in peace, and for pete's sake, can I not go to the bathroom without an audience just one time????

A few days ago, I opened my scripture journal that I keep with my Bible next to the couch. In this little 3x5 spiral, I write mainly scriptures that speak to me as I come across them in study or prayer.  I started this scripture journal back in 2004, when Jason and I were deep in our struggle with infertility, and I was almost hopeless. Most of the scriptures I wrote down during that time had to do with trials, perseverance, and faith. And...I'll have to be honest and say that I haven't added much to it since Gracie was born in August of 2006. However, I still read through it often.

Unsurprisingly, when I opened this journal the other day, I found that Gracie and Cash had colored all over my spiral that was "just their size."

While at first I wanted to be frustrated that yet another thing had been tampered with by my children, I humbly realized that there are now answers to those scripture prayers written on each card.

The coloring marks.

In my very challenged faith four years ago, I had all but decided that He didn't hear and He didn't care about my prayers concerning my womb.

But He did hear. He did care. And He answered.

I can still read the scriptures on each card despite the magenta and forest green coloring that marks each page. But now, the added treasure is how these coloring marks symbolize what God did for us in  our despair.

And it reminds me of what He is able to do in the midst of things that are challenging my faith right now....particularly in regards to the family of my childhood.

So, though this spiral joins the list of things "captured and claimed" in my house, few things are more sacred than these scripture prayers of perseverance and faith marked up by the very hands God created in answer to my cries.

Sacred indeed.

Now, if I could just find my spatulas.

Remembering.

I just re-read my EasyBake post, and I believe I was a little over the top in criticizing its characteristics. As a young girl, I loved being able to cook just like my mama with my very own little girl utensils and oven. Furthermore, I treasure watching my daughter's excitement over the process, too. That is the whole point of the EasyBake experience. 

I'm not sure what I was trying to prove in that last post. It makes me want to hold on to my posts for several days before I publish them....but if I do that, this blog will be blank.

Add to that a weekend that I am just going to have to chalk up as NOT one of the best I've ever had,.... but definitely not the worst either....just a personally challenging and heart-searching few days....and oh my word, why is Daylight Savings Time so early this year? We are totally fouled up with our bedtime routine.

So, I am actually ready for Monday!! Hooray!

And you know, regarding the weekend, I think God knew I would need to open up this morning to the following intro commentary from Beth Moore in my Esther Bible Study:(week 3, day 4)

    "I don't know exactly how God perfects plans that seem so bleak to us in process, but these two things I know: He never takes His eyes off of us or off the clock ticking over us. ...Sweet One, God loves you so. He is hard at work in your life, and the same eye that's on the sparrow is on the wristwatch."

Then at the end of this incredible lesson:

"...Remember, beloved, what God has done for you!...Remember who you are."

Yes, Amen and Praise God.

Sliding Home

So we're back.

We made it to and from the Bahamas with nary a scratch, although my husband has a rather nasty scrape on his back from hitting the bottom of the pool after riding the foreboding "Drop" waterslide.

And can I just mention that I rode this aforementioned "Drop" slide as well, even though I am known to all my loved ones as a big fat wimp?!

I did it for my kids. I wanted to prove that the spirit of fear should not be allowed to win...and I wanted to avoid being teased by my husband.

3.2 seconds of sheer fright is all it took to slide down this thing. When I got to the top and looked down at my steep, watery path, I stepped back and turned around admitting defeat to the crowd behind me. But they did not accept my position and in essence yelled at told me to turn myself right back around - if they were going to do it, so was I.

Truthfully, once you start sliding, there is no time to be scared. No time to look at your bird's eye view of the hotel. No time to look at the shark tank surrounding you as you speed through the tunnel and into the pool.

That's ok. Sharks are not on my list of things to hang out with anyway.

And so I did it. I slid down the slide. I flew over the ocean to the Bahamas. I left my kids for the first time for five whole days. I looked fear in the face and said "Nope!"

And now I'm back watching Imagination Movers with my kids.

It's good to be home.

Thanks be to God.

The ideal birthday

So it's my birthday, and I figured it would be appropriate to post something since I haven't written in over a month. I am mad at myself for not writing because I think I've had some pretty good toddler material over the last 30+ days; but alas, I have procrastinated and now I can't remember what that good material actually was.

So anyway, I have had the most wonderful weekend leading up to my birthday, and today is no different. It feels a little strange to say that I'm 35 now, because I feel like I should be about 28,  but I also feel like today is the beginning of a new start for me in this last half of my thirties.

It's time. Time for what, I'm not sure, but I know it has something to do with the call God has on my life, and His ministry opportunities for me.

It's also time for some things to start being resolved in my family. Most people would probably think things have already been resolved with finalization of my parents' divorce 9 years ago, but in my opinion, divorce doesn't resolve anything - it just creates more stuff to "resolve". I spent the weekend celebrating my birthday with my entire family - meaning my husband & kids, brother, mom, AND dad? At Sunday brunch, when my dad was cooking the eggs over my MOM's STOVE, I briefly had a flashback to being 16 again, at the home I grew up in, when my family was still together. It just felt right, albeit surreal, that my dad should be standing there consulting my mom on whether the eggs had too much water in them, and should we add more salt, etc.

Am I delusional?

Of course, there is this ticking clock in the back of my head whispering that the bottom is going to fall out of this fairy tale hope in my heart; that one day, my dad will say something or do something to end this family harmony; or that maybe I'm reading it all wrong and this is nothing but two people trying to make it easier for their kids and there is no hope for the marriage at all....and then the dream will be over, and we will all go on living our lives - separately - with occasional togetherness at holidays and other special events.

And I know that this is the devil talking to me, trying to steal my hope, for he is the thief that comes to "steal, kill, and destroy".

Realistically, in the world's view, the marriage is over.  Ideally, it isn't.

The devil - he's a realist.

My sovereign God - he's an idealist.

I'm going to bet on the side of idealism.

I'm believin' God.

Happy birthday to me.

Dancing on Water

I can't quit thinking about the dance my parents shared Christmas Eve. Eight years ago when the divorce was final, I would never have guessed that we would all someday be able to spend holidays together joyfully after all the water that is under the bridge.

There is a lot of water, people.

But God has healed much of that deluge...in the way that only He can. I don't understand it, but I am so thankful for it. I have a friend whose divorced parents are not able to be in the same room together, and sometimes I feel downright guilty to report (when asked) that my situation is almost like we're still a family.

Actually, we are still a family, divorced and all. We're good together. My parents are good together. That's why it's so hard to believe sometimes that the divorce finally happened, even though my brother and I both know it was ten years in the making. Too much contributed to their split to again rehash it all here, but it was heartbreaking and tragic - as most divorces are - and suddenly, the life my parents built from those very humble beginnings on the ranch came crumbling down around us all.

Even at 30-something, and with a family of my own, I am still that same child of divorce....heartbroken and grieving.

But hopeful. Oh so very hopeful.

God is a very big God.