Fight to Fall

I wrote this story for a beautiful young woman at our church who is getting married soon.  She was in our youth group years ago, and is a true testament of what it means to seek God daily in her life journey.  Congrats to Whitney and Bryce.  May God bless their marriage for years to come.

Once upon a time there was a boy.

Once upon a time there was a girl.

And this boy loved to have fun.

And this girl loved to have fun.

Four-wheelers, dirt bikes, back roads and fast wheels.

Four-wheelers, dirt bikes, back roads and fast wheels.

Then this boy met a girl.

Then this girl met a boy.

His heart skipped a beat.

Her heart skipped a beat.

He wondered, check yes or no?

She wondered, check yes or no?

And then it happened.

And then it happened.

She stole his heart.

He stole her heart.

He hoped for much.

She hoped for much.

Can I be enough for her?

Can I be enough for him?

I want to provide a house for her.

I want to provide a home for him.

I want her to do life with me.

I want to give my life for him.

I want her to think I am worthy of her respect.

I want him to think I am beautiful.

I want to protect her from the hardships all around us.

I want to be there for him when the world is mean and hard.

And so he asked the big question.

And she said yes.

Then life began.

And it went as all life goes.

Life is never what we expect.

Life is harder than we bargain for.

He wanted to fix her problems.

She just wanted him to listen.

He just wanted her to respect him.

She wanted to feel beautiful again.

He wanted it to be like it used to be.

She wanted it to be like it used to be.

Four-wheelers, dirt bikes, back roads and fast wheels.

Four-wheelers, dirt bikes, back roads and fast wheels.

So he got on his bike and rode for a while.

She got on the four-wheeler and went for a ride.

He eventually made his way to ‘their spot.’

She eventually made her way to ‘their spot.’

When he got there, he parked and walked down to the edge of the creek.

When she got there, she parked next to his bike and walked down to the creek.

He was skipping stones, wishing he could somehow skip all the junk away.

Her heart was skipping beats, wishing she could somehow skip all the junk away.

He turned to see who was coming.

She turned so he wouldn’t see her tears.

And they were at another crossroads.

They had seen many of these.

Fall apart or fight together.

Fight forever or fall together.

He made a choice.

She made a choice.

He forgot about the way he felt and went with what he knew.

She ignored the way she felt and went with what she knew.

So he decided to fight.

She decided to fall.

Fight together.

Fall together.

For in the end,

Love always wins.

Ecclesiastes 4:9-12:  Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their work; if one falls down, his friend can help him up.  But pity the man who falls and has no one to help him up!  Also, if two lie down together, they will keep warm.  But how can one keep warm alone?  Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves.  A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.

Three strands-God, Bryce, Whitney.  Marriage takes three.

Gaining Weight: How being a mom has changed me from the outside-in

You know the drill.  The nurse calls your name and they insist on torture before treasure, the sound of the weigh-in before the sound of the heartbeat.  Then it’s the feeling in the pit of your stomach when she informs you of how many pounds you’ve gained, which is considerably more than you should have during the entire course of your pregnancy, much less with weeks left to go.  And your heart sinks to the floor because once again you’ve gained too much. 

Gaining weight.  Becoming a mom changed my physical body from stretch marks to flab to endless gray hairs, and we moms know all too well our bodies will never be the same.  What I was not prepared for however was all the other arenas in which I would gain weight when I became a mother.  Maybe you can relate.

The weight of a rope. 

Before I was a mom, I could do what I wanted when I wanted.  I was not tied down.  Having to cope with the reality even still that my children limit ways I can serve demands a constant humbling in my heart to accept this sacrifice as more than worthwhile.

The weight of a mirror. 

Why is it that becoming a mom makes all our uglies shift from being closet dust-bunnies to front door unwelcome mats as they stare us down daily through the eyes of the very beings we helped create?  It is like my bad habits and personality dysfunctions suddenly became a pimple on my forehead for me to notice every time I look in the mirror of my little girl’s questioning eyes.

The weight of the world. 

Too many questions.  What if I don’t teach them enough?  What if I really screw them up, or worse yet, turn them into a miniature me?  What if I take my eagle eye off long enough for something tragic to happen?  What if it all goes south and I don’t get to spend eternity with them?  What if, what if, what if?????  Before I became a mom, I thought I could answer most any question.  Now I can hardly answer what day of the week it is and what the weather will be as I fix breakfast, oversee wardrobe disasters, assist with chores (feeding the animals-but somehow I never get fed.  Hmm. . . maybe I should grow whiskers and develop a snarling bark.  Oh wait, my kids already think I have J), and nag, nag, nag to hurry so they won’t miss the bus.

The weight of me. 

I have become very overloaded trying to remember who needs a lunch packed and when, who’s practice starts at which time, whose turn is it to have a friend over.  As I work tirelessly each day to keep track of them, I’ve lost track of me.  The always-smiling, drive-down-the-dirt-road-with-windows-down-and-music-blaring, never-know-what-special-surprise-I’m-drummin’-up-for-the-love-of-my-life girl got lost somewhere between the diapers and the school bus.  The stress swallowed the smile.

And it all continued to weigh me down more and more and more . . .

Until I found a personal trainer.

 His name is Jesus.  And in His grueling weight-loss plan, He actually has one simple benchmark.  “Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.  Take my yoke upon you.  Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls.  For my yoke is easy to bear, and the burden I give you is light.”  Matthew 11:28-30 

He promises to help me lose all that weight I’ve gained since I became a mom, all the weight I’ll continue to gain in motherhood, and all the weight I’ll ever gain in this mess called life.  All I have to do is place it in His hands.

My oldest was playing with some marbles the other day and jokingly said, “Mom, I think you lost some of your marbles.”  I laughed and said, “You’re right.  It’s called being a mom.”  Motherhood has changed me tremendously as I have lost tons of weighted marbles in that dirt at the foot of the cross, not necessarily by eager submission, but because eventually there was no way I could benchpress it on my own.  Through it all, I’ve learned gaining weight and grays draws me closer to my Jesus, who lightens my burden and puts the pep back in my step.    This, this is how being a mom has changed me most.  In the midst of a dirty, messy house full of whiney kids and a demanding husband, I have hope.  I know the weight of this world is here today and gone tomorrow, ‘cause one of these days I’m gonna lose all this but gain much more.  For to live IS Christ and to die IS gain. 

Heart sinking to the floor because you’ve gained too much?  Trade in your weights for wisdom, knowing your heart can soar to the sky because you have indeed gained too much.

Tall Tale Teaching

I came upon this just now as I was digging through old files and thought I'd share.

Tall Tale Teaching

Raising children is a tall order; at least it is a much loftier feat than I initially signed up for.  After numerous bumps along the trail, I am still searching high, not low, for ways to train up my children in the way they should go.  And the high road has proven to be the best road since only the Highest of Highs and Holy of Holies really knows what is best for His children, including me. 

As my daughter and I were lying in bed for a treasured nap together, she asked me to please tell her a story.  Now this is not an entirely uncommon request.  As a former English teacher, I am thoroughly in love with the plight of story-telling and have been known on occasion to relay a ‘once upon a time’ to my sweet daughter.  And our ‘once upon a times’ always include a lovely princess named none other than Princess Katie (my daughter’s name), which of course always ensues a wide-eyed beaming smile from the blue-eyed beauty who yearns for me to tell her another part of ‘her’ story. 

So she once again asks for a story, knowing I shall include a little girl named Katie somewhere along the way.  To be frank, I was past ready to close my eyes and go to sleep and had to think long and hard before I finally grumbled under my breath, and decided to try to devise a unique story.  If I were going to have to postpone my slumber, it could at least be worthwhile.  I believe God was smiling down upon me knowing full and well he would make this one quite productive for both of his little girls involved.

So the story began:

Once upon a time in a far away land, there lived a beautiful little princess named Katie.  Now Katie lived in a very special far away land, for it was called “Girl Land.”  See, in girl land, all the daddy’s and mommy’s would awake from their nightly slumbers and then head happily off to work while the little girls gleefully skipped their way to “Girl Land” for the day where they could laugh and play and color and sing and just be girls together.

Well, on this particular day, Princess Katie decided to spend her morning at the giant carriage located in the middle of “Girl Land.”  And this giant carriage was known as the Crafty Creation Castle Carriage because inside was every crafty girl’s dream:  paints and crayons and markers and glitter and glue and sequins and little pom poms and fabric and scissors and the list goes on and on.  And the colors, oh the colors!  Pinks and purples and greens and blues and reds and yellows! 

So of course Katie was having a wonderful time working so very hard on her butterfly picture until Ms. Mean Girl came in and stood beside her.  Mean Girl then put her hands on her hips and in her sassy voice said, “Oh, Katie.  That is simply the ugliest butterfly I’ve ever seen.  You’ve worked so hard and that is all you could come up.  You poor thing!”  Then she stomped out with great disgust.

Now Katie was a brave girl and knew she should try her hardest not to worry about what other girls think since she knew that what God thinks is the only thing that matters.  But try as she may, tears began to trickle down her cheeks and onto her butterfly.  But God also gives us friends who show His love at just the right time, which is just what Katie’s good friend Heidi did. 

Heidi had been working a few seats down on a flower picture and saw everything that happened.  So once she saw Katie wiping her tears away, Heidi put her marker down, went over to Katie’s butterfly and picked it up.  She then stepped down from the carriage, picture in hand, and began very excitedly going to each and every girl in “Girl Land,” showing them Katie’s picture and asking them if this wasn’t the most beautiful picture they’d ever seen.  And it was a rather good butterfly picture so of course all the girls agreed it was most lovely. 

As Katie watched from the carriage steps, her heart began to be lifted a bit higher and a bit higher again with every little girl who praised her picture.  And once Heidi returned to the carriage, the two girls went inside together and sat back down to finish their creations with rather happy smiles on their face.  As Katie finished and stood up to leave, she went over to Heidi.  “Thanks a lot for what you did Heidi.  It really made me feel better.  Not just because of what those girls said, but mostly because you showed me that God loves me enough to give me good friends who can remind me of how much He loves me.  So thanks for being just like our great big God!”  

As Katie stepped down from the carriage with her picture in hand wrapped and ready to give to her mommy, she noticed Mean Girl was under a tree over by the fence all alone.  For a moment she thought she could just leave Girl Land through the other exit so she wouldn’t have to see Mean Girl again, but something prompted her to go ahead and go that way.  As she came closer to Mean Girl, she could tell she had been crying.  And though part of Katie was still very hurt by Mean Girl, she felt compassion for her.  Sitting down at her side, Katie asked why she was crying. 

“I’m crying because I was really mean to you.  I’m mean to lots of  little girls.  And the reason I’m mean is because I’m jealous.  I could never draw something that pretty and so I said those mean things because I was mad at you for being able to do such a good job and because I wanted everyone to pay attention to me.  And now I’m crying because no one will play with me because I was so mean.”

So Katie thought for a minute.  Then she had an idea.  She picked up her butterfly picture and placed it in Mean Girl’s lap.  “Here.  I want you to have this.  And every time you look at it, I want you to remember that you don’t have to be mean to feel loved.  God already loves you more than you could ever ask for.  So just look at it and remember that a butterfly is beautiful because it had a beautiful maker.  And you are beautiful too because you have a beautiful maker.”

“Really?  You would do all this for me after what I did?”

“You bet.”

“But why?”

“Because I believe that God loves you enough to give you good friends who can remind you of how much He loves you, and I want to be that friend for you, just like Heidi was for me.”

I believe God always gives me a story to tell in just the right time and just the right place.  I believe this was God’s story to Katie, yes, but also to me, giving me a great insight of one more method of how to raise children God’s way-using tall tales to instill rather ‘tall’ virtues in my daughter.

What a grand idea-using stories to teach my children how to handle tough situations before they even encounter such situations.  Is it a tall order to raise children?  Yes.  But I have the highest resource living inside me, so you better believe I will keep searching the high road on this lofty journey.

When God Speaks

I heard you yesterday.  As I rode along trimming the grass in my never-ending quest for beauty in my life and home, I heard you. 

“I’m yours, Lord-everything I am, everything I’ve got, everything I’m not.  I’m yours, Lord.  Try me now and see, see if I can be completely yours.”

A song I used to sing years ago.  And there is no conceivable reason it should have surfaced in my mind’s playlist.  No conceivable notion but You.  You sang to me, and I heard You loud and clear.  And if I’m brutally honest, I’m terrified, for I know exactly what You want.  Almost ten years ago when you laid it on my heart that you had a specific purpose for my ministry, you told me to be patient and wait for your timing, for in your timing you would reveal all mysteries.  It is time.

I am studying in Colossians and Paul speaks of God’s mystery revealed, which is the hope of Christ living in us and through us to spread the gospel, to reach the lost for the Kingdom.  And it is not coincidence that the very key words mystery revealed would be on my plate of study at the exact time when You are choosing to reveal my specific role in this quest for redemption.

In my gut, I’m terrified.  I’ve grown quite accustomed to my partial hermit-like existence, where I can live and move and breathe in the comforts and familiarities of my home on this farm in the middle of nowhere, where no one expects more of me than I am capable, where my family loves and supports regardless of my uglies, and where I feel adequate. Enough. 

Here, I am enough.  I am enough of a wife, enough of a mother, enough of a friend, enough of a volunteer at church.  Enough.  But Your call takes me to places I can never be enough.  And in the midst of my frantic unravelings inside, I hear you again.

I am enough.  I AM. 

And I know this to be true, because I know I Am.  I know You.  And my heart can’t beat without You in my life.  And so for this, Here I am.  Send me.  I am not enough, but I am yours.  And I will go.  This week I will obey.  And I will put my trust in you, as scared stiff as that makes me.  But I will stand on your feet, and I will share Your story through my story, so the whole world may know . . .

I’m yours, Lord-everything I am, everything I’ve got, everything I’m not. I’m yours, Lord.  Try me now and see, see if I can be completely yours.