Subtly Twisted Lies

I haven't written much in 2012.  It's been a heck of year, and now I'm on a new journey, and I don't know who reads this blog, but I want you to know, I write these things for me because when God and I start talking back and forth in my head, it has to spill out on a page or I explode, or as this past year has proven, I implode.  Let me explain.

In December of 2011, I wrote a post about what God had spent all of that year teaching me.  It's one of my favorite posts to date.  However, two days after that blog hit the internet, my husband actually began his new job.  January 1, 2012 literally began the first day of a new chapter in our lives as a family.

The rubber met the road, so to speak.  God actually expected me to apply what He had spent a year in 2011 teaching me. (Wow!  Who would have thought application would be required, right?  Duh...I can be so naive sometimes...anyways)  The concept that God was enough.  He was all I needed.  Well, let me tell you, I began spinning my wheels, mustering all my courage, all the fortitude and strength inside myself, but something inside me didn't take the car out of neutral.  Looking back, I know now I was on a fast track to a major burnout and four blown tires.

January passed relatively uneventful.  Joey wasn't traveling much yet, but you see, I've been down this road before.  I was secretly anxious and waiting for the hammer to fall.  I knew in my heart that when he started traveling, when he wasn't here, when it was just me and my two precious children all alone, I knew things would get tough.  I knew the looming storm would ensue.

I mentally began to borrow trouble.

That knowledge.  That expectation was like a rock in the pit of my stomach--a heavy rock.  It was like wearing a collar that's too tight, always feeling like one more good swallow and you're going to choke. You see, looking back, that was my first mistake.  I wasn't taking myself out of neutral.  I wasn't actively believing what God had taught me.  I had head knowledge of all the promises He had given me, but I didn't truly believe them--well, at the very least, I didn't begin to practice them.

I started believing subtle lies.  Not blatant ones, mind you, very subtle ideas that I'm still recongnizing as coming from the father of all lies.  His most deceiving attack?  He made me believe that these thoughts were my own because if I had identified them as from him from the very beginning, I never would be climbing out of the ravine I've been in now.

One of my highest spirtitual gifts is discernment, but added to my analytical yet highly creative and emotional personality, I am a walking time bomb for self-sufficiency to despair.  I know all the right things to do. (So I thought.)  I felt the rock in my stomach, the choking feeling around my neck, and the brewing storm in my life on the horizon.  Yet, instead of battoning down the spiritual hatches, filling my life with the Word of God, and relying soley on His strength to ride out the coming storm, I started making my own preparations.

Joey and I made sure weekly date nights were still a priority.  I would take time outs around the house to stop and take deep breaths, say short prayers, and quite literally suppress, push down the emotions welling inside of me.  "Keep calm," I told myself, "stop worrying about something that hasn't even happened yet."  I started self-talking to myself, "Ok.  You know when he's gone, it's going to be hard.  Just hold on.  It won't last for long.  The two of you will figure this out.  God will take care of you.  You will adjust quickly.  It won't take three years to figure out the new normal like last time.  You are strong.  You are capable.  He's depending on you to hold it together.  Your kids are depending on you to hold it together.  If you make this transition smoothly, then everyone will be ok."

Oh my soul!!!  Can any of you see how wrong this thinking is?  I can now, but I didn't then.  Those kind of pep talks occur often in my mind.  For, "as a man thinketh, so he is," right?  The problem is all the positive self-talk in the world is useless if it is not founded in Christ.  Everything I thought on a daily basis, were good things.  They were positive ideas usually based in a smidge of spiritual truth, and that's where satan took his foothold in my mind.  I didn't need a smidge of truth, I needed Truth in it's entireity.  I needed Christ and His words, His thoughts, His ideas to be the Anchor for the coming storm.

Instead, I bought into one of the biggest lies satan can tell a believer who's known Christ almost their entire life.  You see, I like to think of myself as a Lifer--you know, a Christ-for-life kind of girl.  When you grow up surrounded by Christian influence, heritage, and legacy, when you accept Christ at the age of four, get baptized at six, rededicate your life at eleven with full knowledge of Who and how to serve, then you're a Lifer.  I can't imagine my life without Christ in it, without His Holy Spirit speaking to my heart and mind.  I just can't.  I don't want to.  Now, this is a HUGE, enormous, tremendous blessing!!!!!

But I've lived long enough now to see how satan can twist the biggest of God's blessings into the biggest of our curses simply by leveraging our sinful flesh to his advantage.  Satan oh so subtly twisted God's words from the very beginning in the garden of Eden, and his tactics haven't changed much in over who-knows-how-many thousands of years. (Stick with what works, right?) But when you're a Lifer, I've realized recently that while I've been privy to so many more of God's blessings than most who don't find Him until their late teens or twenties, I also have been manipulated more over a longer period of time by Satan's subtle lies in my life.

You see, Satan's war is with God, and if I don't belong to God, he may use me, block me from seeing the light, but mostly, I don't think he cares that much about me because I'm his eternal slave and unwitting bondservant anyway.  BUT, if I am a child of God, then his beef, his war is targeted directly at me.  If he takes me out of the battle, then I'm one less soldier he has to worry about trying to save one of his unwitting prisoners from the fiery flames of eternal hell.

And for me, he has always taken me out of the battle by twisting all the godly things I think I know into false teachings that root in my mind and heart and spread disease like wildfire through my system.  For me, this disease has always manifested itself in some form of depression.  Only in the past ten years have I learned to recognize the symtoms and call a spade a spade, but looking back on my middle and high school years, this is not a new pattern for me.  Depression is my go-to response to satan's influence and/or attacks in my life--this truth, I've come to realize in just the past few months.  Believing satan's lies drags me into depression.  Period.

So the biggest lie a Lifer can believe?  That I know it all.  That I've heard that already.  That I know the verse to combat that idea. (Without ever actually quoting the verse, mind you.  I just "know" it.)  That I remember hearing a message about that once. That I know the right thing to say.  Oh yeah, I did a Bible study about that once--it was helpful.  I know how God would handle that situation.  I know how you're feeling.  I know you're struggle.  I know how God feels about that action.  I have the righteous advice to give for every situation.  I know the consequences that will follow.  I know what scripture says, in general, about that subject. (Again, without actually ever quoting any scripture.) I know, I know, I know, I know, I know.  I've heard it all before.  There's nothing new under the sun anyway, right?

WHAT A LOAD OF CRAP.  And what a load of subtly twisted truths.  If you're a believer, can you spot them?  Can you see how an idea with a grain of truth (because there ARE some things I DO know) can be twisted into prideful knowledge that only steals, kills, and destroys others when the attitude, delivery, and relationship aren't exactly as God has them aligned for any given moment.  

I've learned over the years how damaging this attitude is when used toward others.  I still struggle with it sometimes--any one of my siblings can testify--but, by God's grace, I'd like to think that when it comes to dealing with others, I've gotten better.  However, this year has taught me how incredibly vicious these subtly twisted lies are to myself personally--to my own thoughts, ideas, and self-conversations.

I will explain, but for now, I'm going to stop here for today, and leave myself contemplating that huge, smelly, load of crap because unless I can wrap my head around the fact that my pride in being a knower is just as sinful as the rapist, the murderer, the gossip, and the disobeyer--then I can't really move forward.  I haven't learned my lesson if I can't confess this sin and move forward in the forgiveness and humbleness and brokenness that this revelation from the Lord in my life requires.

The Truth:
Proverbs 16:18 "Pride goes before destruction, a haughty spirit before a fall."

Deuteronomy 29:29 "The secret things belong to the Lord our God,(hence, I can know nothing He doesn't already want me to know) but the things revealed belong to us and to our children forever, that we may follow all the words of this law."

1 Corinthians 13:1-10 "If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal.² And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. ³ If I give away all I have, and if I deliver up my body to be burned,^[a] but have not love, I gain nothing.

⁴ Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant ⁵ or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful;^[b] 6 it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. ⁷ Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

⁸ Love never ends. As for prophecies, they will pass away; as for tongues, they will cease; as for knowledge, it will pass away. ⁹ For we know in part and we prophesy in part, ¹⁰ but when the perfect comes, the partial will pass away. 

Isaiah 55:9 "As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are My ways higher than your ways and My thoughts than your thoughts."

Ecclesiastes 1:17-18 "And I set my ^[t]mind to know wisdom and to know madness and folly; I realized that this also is striving after wind. ¹⁸ Because in much wisdom there is much grief, and increasing knowledge results in increasing pain."

The TakeAway:  Knowledge of the Lord my whole life has blessed me beyond what I can ever think or imagine.  It has kept me from making many wrong and hurtful decisions.  But when I start letting satan slip in and twist this knowledge ever so subtly by slacking up and not keeping the truth ever at my fingertips, quoted word for word off my lips and in my thoughts, I will become prideful in my knowledge and the consequence is much grief and increasing pain.

Christmas Letter 2012

Merry Christmas Family & Friends!                                                                                          
***If for one reason or another, you were missed on our Christmas card list this year, hear it is=)***

Our year started on an incredible high when Joey and I completed our first Tough Mudder (toughmudder.com) challenge in January—almost 13 miles and 29 obstacles, and electric shock is NOT for the faint of heart! Then, the rest of the year went something like this—4 ER visits, 2 seizures, 2 ambulance rides, 9 stitches, 2 MRIs, 2 stress tests, 1 cardiac monitor, 2 echocardiograms, 1 EEG, multiple EKGs, 1 walking cast boot, and mono.  All of which resulted in outcomes of excellent health!  However, this sets the stage for our family’s year of walking by faith.

The faith walk began quite literally the day after I mailed 2011’s Christmas letter.  We got the phone call that Joey got the financial consultant position on staff with Chick-fil-A corporate, and we couldn’t have been more ecstatic!  January 1, 2012, Joey began the next stage of his career with Chick-fil-A, and he is happier and more fulfilled than I have seen him in many years.  I always knew God would open this door for him, but who knew it would take 10 years of prayer and faithful submission to God’s plan before this desire of Joey’s heart was finally fulfilled.  However, it WAS fulfilled (Ps. 37:4).  So for all of you out there waiting for those deepest desires of your heart to be fulfilled as well, be encouraged!  God’s timing is perfect.  I hate to speak for him, but I would say that Joey has been walking this year in the joy of faith-fulfillment.  New adventures are always just around his corner, but I think this year, he has truly enjoyed this 10-year prayer being answered in his life.

The kids have most certainly begun their faith walks this year in little ways that I have enjoyed planting, watering, and nurturing, but mostly watching.  I thank the Lord for BSF (bsfinterational.org) and the invaluable role it has played in helping me begin to lay a godly foundation in the lives of my children.

Two of those ER visits were for Savannah, and in the midst of the craziness of each, there were blessed sacred moments when I was able to point her to God’s hand, and she was openly able to experience His work in her life, even at the tender age of 4.  All the while, she has continued to charm people with her joy for life and abundance of energy and exuberance for everyone and everything.  Her little heart is so sensitive to her brother and our family; it makes my Mama’s heart soar.  She talks often about how she’s asked Jesus to come live inside her heart.  I pray daily that God would increase her understanding of His grace and love for her so that in this next year we will rejoice in her baptism which would only show to the world what I believe is already at work in her heart—that she loves the Lord and believes He died for her sins, for her forgiveness, for her salvation!  It’s my joy to see this prayer being actively answered in her life on a daily basis.  I can’t wait to see what the future holds for her!

Weston too has weathered his last half of the willful 2s and into his emotional 3s with as much dignity as any child can.  We are finally a diaper-less household.  Hallelujah!  And watching him turn from toddler into little boy brings both heartache and pride.  He is my baby after all=)  We’ve discovered he’s a bit of a perfectionist, so this has challenged me to be his biggest encourager in the area of “You can do it! Keep trying!”  But his charm, smile, and natural wit and humor are going to far outweigh any drawbacks to his perfectionism.  This kid is just plain funny!  I pray daily that God would bend his heart toward a life of obedience and teach me how to understand him, so I can raise him in the way God would have him grow.  I’m still watching and learning his “bent” for life, but one thing is for sure, people will love him, and he will have great influence for Christ one day.  I look forward to another year of watching him learn and grow in the Lord.

As for me, well, the list in paragraph 1 will explain why I dropped off the map in the blogging world (thedurhamites.blogspot.com—hopefully more to come in the future!).  The speed of life has picked up.  Along with Joey’s new job came Joey’s new traveling schedule, and for the first time in our 11-year marriage we spend 1-3 nights apart from each other almost every week.  I’ve struggled with this.  Most of those medical tests listed resulted from a fluke seizure I experienced in May.  I struggled with that.  My Granddaddy Frank went home to be with the Lord in July.  I struggled with that.  And through the struggles God has always provided the help I needed.  It has come in the form of friends, family, car rides, prayers, kind words, encouraging lunches, medications, counseling, BSF lessons, and ultimately the never-shifting, solid ground of the Truth of His Holy Word.

I sit here and can honestly say, like Abram (Gen. 12), I failed a test of my faith this year, but also like Abram, I found favor in God’s eyes through His grace, and I have restored peace and faith and hope in the God who loves me.  This has been a year of the faith-fight for me.  I have not warred with things of the flesh, but with spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms (Eph. 6:12). I am still learning how to destroy speculations and every lofty thing raised up against the knowledge of God, taking every thought captive to the obedience of Christ (2 Cor. 10:5).  I’m seeking more scripture, praying out loud more often, crying out to the Lord for deliverance.  Because I am in a war for my mind that ultimately affects my heart, which in turn will affect the hearts of my children and generations to come.  The Good News though?!?!?  Christ has already won!!  And as His child, His soldier, I am learning to march and live in His victory through His blessed salvation by re-learning who He says I am in Christ.  And I am victorious.

But thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.

Therefore, my dear brothers, stand firm. Let nothing move you. Always give yourselves fully to the work of the Lord, because you know that your labor in the Lord is not in vain.

1 Corinthians 15:57-58

May this letter serve as an encouragement to all of you who find yourselves in the midst of not just a fight, but a war.  God is more than able (2 Cor. 9:8).  He is our Shield and Strength (Ps. 28:7).  He has been my personal Refuge (Ps. 91:2) this year, and for my family, He has been the Banner of Love (Song of Ps. 2:4).  He has worked good in and through all things in our lives this year, and I pray He has been glorified even in my weak efforts.  May this Christmas season illuminate the Hope we have in Christ’s birth!  The hope of not just eternity itself, but an eternity of peace, unity, and victory!  No more struggles or war with this flesh. 

“Oh victory in Jesus, my Savior forever / He sought me and He bought me with His redeeming blood / He loved me 'ere I knew Him and all my love is due Him / He plunged me to victory beneath the cleansing flood.”-Victory in Jesus by E.M. Bartlett, 1939.

May the truth of God’s Word be your protection in 2013.

Praying His Truth over you and yours,

Joey, Jennifer, Savannah, & Weston Durham

Some Pictures

Well, this year has been a doozy.  I have a million thoughts in my head, but no time to write.  Maybe one day I will get it all written down, so the few of you who read this blog will know what happened this year.  In the meantime, I'm just gonna pick up where this blog was originally intended to begin...with pictures of my kiddos=)

September is apple picking adventure month in our family.

 If you ever wonder why this dog-loving family ever ends up with a cat one day, this is why....

Sweetness!  She begs for a cat every time we see one.  Only time will tell.

 Love.  My. Kids.

Word Picture Captured

It was three o'clock on a torpid July afternoon.  I stood respectfully in line as the pall-bearers, all eight of them, four to each side lined up to carry the coffin to the graveside.

Eight men.  All grandsons or spouses of granddaughters.  No eight men could have been more different in every way.  They stood representing blue collar, white collar, military, student, self and government employed.  Short, tall, skinny, broad, blond, brunette, and everything in between.  No eight men could have been more different in every way.

Yet they all bravely united.  Four to each side of a great man's coffin.  A great man.  From the Great Generation.  He survived five amphibious beach landings.  He fought for our country in an era when the enemy was tangible and poured red blood on the ground.  He stood his ground.  He did his duty once then volunteered to go the next time a threat came.  He secured our freedom and survived to come home and rebuild and make sure the freedom of his family stayed secure.

His men now flanked his side, and the family stood in line to watch them carry him.  And those boy-men mustered every ounce of dignity, and they grasped the handles to the coffin, and they carried the legacy.

They carried the legacy.  And they shuffled and sweated and under deep breaths groaned silently and prayed to God no one dropped the weight of the legacy they carried.  And they stood together, and with dignity and honor--together--they carried the legacy.

It wasn't easy.  In fact, when they were being honest, in confided moments, you could almost hear the tint of fear in their voices.  The thought that had flashed through all their minds--what if we had dropped him???  Those who had watched their careful steps could almost see the question across their faces--will we make it???

They all made it.  With great pride and dignity in tact.  Every one earned respect that day.  Every one.

And that visual, that picture of them is lasered into my brain.  The younger generation, the Generation X, the Generation Y, carrying the Great Generation to his resting place.  

Something inside of me almost cracked.  Something inside of me almost started to cheer.  These were my men--all of them a part of my family.  I wanted to cheer from the sidelines, "YOU CAN DO THIS!"  Keep going!  You're doing a great job!  Don't stop.  Don't give up.  Work together, and hold on.  You WILL make it!!!!"

You see I saw in them the picture of the generation of men we are raising who are beginning to take their place in society.  Who are taking on the mantle, the mission, the legacy of the Great Generation passing on.  They are men who haven't been cheered.  They are unsure in so many ways, and it's our fault.

Our culture, our women, our media beat them down and tell them they are too sensitive or not sensitive enough, they are unmotivated or motivated by the wrong things, they are to be powerful while being stripped of power, they are expected to be respectable all the while being disrespected.  Yet they are men.  People can you see them?

Can you see them try?  They are good men.

And they have a great legacy to carry and shoulders that even I have been guilty of narrowing by my tinged words, small-mindedness, and critical attitudes.  As a woman, our society tells us to roar when really, really we want our men to pursue, to provide, to roar, and if that's what we really want, then we need stand back and watch, and CHEER THEM ON.

Because my grandfather fought a physical enemy in World War II and the Korean Way, but our men today fight a much more dangerous enemy.  They fight the powers of satan and his principalities in this world.  They fight a system designed to demean them and make them small simply because it's the opposite of the system God set in place for them.

Our men are fighting on a very real battleground in the spiritual world, and the load is heavy.  It's hard. They groan under the weight of the legacy they want so desperately to carry with dignity and honor and respect.

Can we find ways to show them this?  Can we turn a deaf ear to the rights the media and culture and maybe even our friends say we have?  Not to our own detriment for the profit of evil men who mean us harm, but for the profit of the good men standing around us looking for someone to cheer them on, to believe in them, to come along side them and help them shoulder the burden.

They will falter, and they will misstep.  Remember, no body's perfect.  But it is their duty.  It is their God-ordained, call of duty, act of valor to shoulder the legacy.  To bear the burden.  Not because they're better than us, for no other reason than that's how God designed it to be.  It was His design, His choice.  It's the role God gave them in life.  It's their job, their life's work.

My role in life is another blog=)  But it's equally as important, and as a woman, I am uniquely equipped to succeed at the job God designed for me, just as my husband is equally and uniquely equipped to succeed at the job God designed for him.  It's time we all start seeing each other as just that--equally, uniquely equipped for the separate yet equally important roles we play as men and women in this lifetime.

Take time today to show dignity, honor, and respect to the good men in your life whomever they may be.  Affirm them.  Help them fight the fears and lies that flit behind their mind's eye.  Remind them they won't fail, they can do this, keep going.

We need to stop standing idly by, watching the men we've raised carry the legacy, silently hoping they don't drop it, anxiously wondering if they will make it.  Instead, don't we already know they will make it?  Don't we already believe they CAN carry the legacy?  Then TELL THEM.  Show them.  Honor and respect them.  I think we will all be surprised what happens when they know for sure that we know for sure, they can do this.  By God's power, they can do this.

To the eight pall-bearers that day, I salute you.  You WILL carry the legacy with success.  You will not fail.  I could see it in each of your eyes.  You will not fail.

In Remembrance

As many of you know, I process life through my writing.  I know I've been silent for a while.  There's good reason for that, but I had several requests for the "eulogy" of sorts I read at my Granddaddy's recent funeral.  I wrote this for me--it helped me cope, process, but when I gave it to my Dot-Dot, she asked me to read it at the funeral, so here it is for those who asked.  Thank you all for your prayers and support....

There are people who have been born into this world who accomplish great things.  They become great leaders of nations, inventors of devices to impact all space and time, philosophers whose ideas move generations to great change, artists whose work touches the souls of many long after them, evangelists who love God with a passion that brings generations to the saving knowledge of Jesus Christ.  These are the people we look to as “great” people.  People who impact change.  People who are remembered.  People with a legacy.

Yet, in comparison to the whole population of the world, these people are few and far between.  Drops in the bucket of souls.  Single planets in a universe of stars.  They are not the only ones who matter.  The far greater worth lies in the weaving of the masses.  The parents who raised these leaders.  The men and women who impacted their lives in seemingly meaningless ways at the time.  Without the hundreds and thousands of other people in the world to each impart a seemingly meaningless chapter, sentence, or word to the lives of these great people, these great people would cease to exist.  

We have a grand Creator and Author of all Life who weaves a story through time with every strand of fabric available.  Although He may choose to emphasize one color over another, in the grand scheme of the weaving, it is the entire composition, not just that one strand of color that causes others to take notice.

Are you content to be just another strand in the Weaver's grand design?  Have you realized the importance of the legacy you live in this lifetime?  Do you know you have a legacy to impart?  Something to leave behind?  Something to impart to the next generation?

The word “legacy” by definition is simply “anything handed down from the past, as from an ancestor or predecessor.” When you dig a little deeper, you find that in the late 14^th century, the word legacy was used to refer to “a body of persons sent on a mission.”  It also originates from the word legatus meaning “ambassador or envoy.”

These words—mission, ambassador, envoy—are strong and powerful.  Legacy is not just a bunch of hand-me-down things, possessions; earthly treasures that moths and rust destroy and thieves break in and steal.  The legacy a person leaves behind is found in the lives of the people they impacted.  Their legacy, albeit good or bad, is left behind in the people who knew them, who loved or hated them, whose lives were/are never the same because of them.

Jesus Christ left His legacy ingrained in the lives of twelve men, twelve disciples.  He touched both physically and spiritually the lives of thousands, but it was the twelve who believed, who had the faith to live His message, these twelve literally took the message of Christ and physically changed the modern world as we knew it all because of the legacy of Christ—the time He spent pouring into their lives, the honest relationships He formed, nurtured, and cared about—this legacy left such an impression that when Christ’s Spirit filled these men for the first time after His ascension, they couldn’t contain their joy, their hope, their love for Him.  Legacy matters.  The legacy of Christ matters to people.  It changes their lives.  And His legacy continues to be passed down from generation to generation even today through the believing lives and words and actions of His followers, His children, His chosen, His beloved.

Granddaddy Frank was one of those children.  He was a child of God.  He wasn’t perfect—no one is.  But he did the best he could with what he had, with what he was given.  He raised his boys to honor their parents—I’ve seen that first hand in the hard light of day over the past twelve days.  And when they honor their parents, God is honored and God is pleased, so I know Granddaddy Frank is a proud parent in the presence of his heavenly Father today.  You see, in the daily life of honor Granddaddy lived serving his country, serving his family, serving others—he left behind a legacy of honor for us to carry, to share, to pass down.

Granddaddy Frank was a man of too many words in some ways, and not enough words in other ways.  Though I never heard him share his faith openly, I still believe he was a God-fearing man, and his heritage, his legacy, is one of hard work and high standards.  He has always been a man who has worked hard to provide security for his family, putting them first and foremost in his priorities.  Even in his death, he has left his beloved wife well cared for in every way, not just financially, but with a family, specifically his three boys, who love her with a love as endearing as the love he had for her for 66 years.  66 years!!!  Wow, that in itself is a legacy!  A mission to take on.  A message for us to carry—his ambassadors, his envoy, his legacy.

He also held the standard for their lives staggeringly high, some might say, but he was a man who lived his life by trying to always do the right thing.   Inevitably, that belief did not get him to heaven, but I believe he now stands in the presence of the Lord of all Right Things, and in his own solemn way, Granddaddy honored Jesus Christ as Lord during his days here with us.  We may have never heard him confess Christ with his mouth, although my dad, Stan, assures me he had that conversation with him once, but the actions of his life confessed Jesus as Lord—the way he provided, the way he gave, the way he never took the wide path, but always chose the narrow—these are proofs of Christ in him.

Granddaddy Frank’s heritage is honorable, one of honor and worth remembering and regarding when the easy way out looks so tempting.  That’s his legacy.   These are all the “things” we as his children, his grandchildren, his family, and friends—these are the “things” we are responsible to pass on to others in our lives.  It’s these godly morals—the pictures of Christ found in his daily life that are worth remembering and engraving into our lives. 

No man is perfect.  No man leaves this world without leaving behind words left unsaid, feelings that need mended, old wounds in need of healing.  Granddaddy Frank was no exception.  But it’s important to remember also that no man can offer those words or that healing.  Only God offers the healing grace and forgiveness and salvation we all need from these things.  Only a daily relationship with Jesus Christ as your Lord and Savior is a salve strong enough to soothe the hurt this life can bring, and it’s because of the saving faith Granddaddy Frank had in our Lord Jesus Christ that he stands before Him this day, in His holy presence with clean hands and a clean heart because the blood of Christ covers us all if we only believe in Him, in His sacrifice, in the legacy He died to impart.

Because of Granddaddy’s faith in Christ, all the good he lived outweighed anything bad.  Because his life was lived for Christ in the best way he knew how, the legacy he leaves for us—honor, commitment, hard work, love and loyalty for and to family, perseverance, determination, setting high standards—this is the legacy he has left to us his ambassadors and envoys, the ones who have now inherited his mission. 

Some of Granddaddy’s last words to me when I was talking to him in the hospital were to “Move on.  Move on.  Move on.”  He was telling me to stop stressing and questioning over some recent health issues.  It was wasted emotional energy.  His advice was to move on.  And so as one of his ambassadors of his legacy, as one of his envoys carrying a message of hope and perseverance, and as his granddaughter passing down his legacy to his great-grandchildren, I will do just that.  I will commit to carry all the good and right and pleasing and excellent and praiseworthy things he left behind to me with me on this mission of life.

Because all the good and excellent and right and praise-worthy things about his life are all reflections of our shared heavenly Father, of our Lord Jesus Christ.  In Him, we live and move and have our being—Granddaddy just gets to do it in the Lord’s own presence on a daily basis while we still have to struggle in this sinful flesh.  One day, one day, all of us who have confessed with our mouths that Jesus is Lord and believed in our hearts that God raised Him from the dead—one day all of us will join Granddaddy in the sweet eternal freedom he is experiencing.  Even at the early age of 32, my heart aches for that day.  To be able to love my Savior untainted and unimpeded—no barriers.  Just Christ.  Christ alone.

I love you Granddaddy.  We all love you.  So I will leave each of you with this question…from this day forward, in what manner will you carry the legacy that Granddaddy Frank leaves? 

Some may need to commit yourself to an entire lifetime of marriage to the same person from this day forward, working hard to make it work, never giving up, choosing to stay committed no matter what. 

Others may need to resolve to embrace his legacy of hard work and perseverance, never taking the easy path just because it’s easy. 

Some may need to learn to honor the authorities in their life with more respect and loyalty, remembering it is God who ordains all our authorities in our lives including our parents for His purposes. 

For others, you may need to start raising the standards you set for yourself a little higher, stop resting in empty excuses for everything. 

Still others may simply need to nail it down and come to a saving faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. 

My only challenge is that you embrace something, engrave at least one piece of his legacy into your life.  Don’t leave here today simply burying a good man.  Leave today deciding to emulate a piece if not the whole legacy of this godly man because one day we will all be at this stage of life, and we will be hoping that our legacy matters to those we leave behind, that we’ve made a difference in the lives of our ambassadors in this lifetime.  In the words of Granddaddy, “Move on!” from here today not saddened by the loss, but encouraged by the gift we’ve all inherited, challenged by the mission for which we’ve been commissioned, to not just pass down Granddaddy’s legacy, but to live it, to be it—to be the Jesus that this generation sees.  This will make Granddaddy proud.  Do this, and I can still see him smiling down on us from heaven, little corner of his mouth raised, and eyes shining. 

2 Corinthians 5:20 implores: “Therefore, we are ambassadors for Christ, as though God were making an appeal (to others—to the world) through us; we beg you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God.”

Go.  Be the legacy.

My Self-cation

6am the alarm goes off.  7am Savannah comes in to wake us up.  TV turned on, morning snack and juice cup delivered.  Back to bed. 7:30 the day gets started.  Breakfasts are made, lunches packed if necessary, breakfast dishes washed, dishwasher unloaded to be reloaded.  Car packed for the days needs (school, Bible study, play date, errands, park, etc.) If we're staying home, laundry commences, straightening of the house, pulling out and putting away of toys, clothes, etc. Maybe some play dough time or finger painting if I'm feeling extra artsy.  Lunch happens.  Dishes get washed and put away.  Lunch mess cleaned up.  Play time after lunch for an hour or so until nap time.  Rest/Nap time happens. Sometimes I rest, sometimes I do pilates, sometimes I just do more household chores.  Kids wake up.  We all snack and watch Wild Kratts together.  TV turns off.  Their self entertainment begins, and I kick into dinner prep mode.  Joey gets home.  Dinner is served.  The kids wrestle with dad for 30 minutes or so.  I wash and put away dishes and leftovers.  Maybe 30 more minutes of family time then it's bed and bath routine.  Kids are in bed, I zone out on the couch.

This is a very typical day in my life.  As a matter of fact, this happens almost every day with little to no variance.  There's no down time, no me time, very little intentional time.  There's no JOY.  

And when joy has seeped out of your life and has suddenly gone missing, you start looking for it desperately.

That's how I found myself on my own little self-cation.  Kinda like a vacation from the life above, but being totally focused around myself.  I can't pinpoint the exact day I went on self-cation, but it was definitely two to three weeks ago.  I slept in later than usual, leaving pop-tarts and juice cups out for the kids.  Oh, I made sure they got their meals, but everything in between is a blur.  I finished the entire Hunger Games series in three days.  Couldn't tell you what my kids were doing while I read those books.  They were safe and fed, that's all I really know.  I tried to spend time with my friends, filling my days with conversations I wanted to have, making sure my kids were entertained by others.  I "cooked" meals at night that took no forethought or real preparation in the name of "making good use of what was in the pantry" like peanut-butter and jelly and bread.  I ate out when/if possible, not monitoring the nutrition intake of myself or the kids.  I basically checked out, trying to find joy in doing what I wanted to do instead of the million-item-long list of all the things I was suppose to do because I'm a mom, and a wife, and a stay-at-home one at that.

Notice, that in neither of these circumstances, my usual day spoken of at first, nor my self-cation involved consulting or including the Lord in my plans.  Why?  Because I know better.  Because living the Christ-filled life is hard and exhausting at times.  There's got be something better right?  A better way?  An  easier way, right?

The Holy Spirit inside of me was already speaking to me in all of these circumstances begging me to return to the Lord, to listen to Him, to just sit in His presence and spend a little time.  But my flesh, oh my flesh!!  My flesh is sinful and strong, and without Him I am weak. (Romans 7:21-25)  So I let my fleshly pride of control and the idea of me, me, me, me guide my day and my decisions, and my search for joy got lost in a sea of pride, which eventually drowned me in an ocean of shame and self-loathing.  The temptation of myself led me down a path toward death.  (James 1:14-15) Well, I haven't actually died, but my spirit has been slowly withering away, becoming weaker in the process, harder to return to the Lord.  The further I slipped away the harder it became to turn back, to throw off this yoke of sin and reach for the easier yoke of the Lord. (Matthew 11:30)

The Christ-filled life is hard, don't get me wrong, but when our sin drags us back into the slavery of the self-cation, we suddenly find ourselves burdened beyond what we can bare, and it's then we remember what kind of freedom we actually have IN CHRIST.  And in that moment of remembrance, like the prodigal son's epiphany (Luke 15:17), all I had to do was turn my eyes back toward my Father's direction.

Hear me in this!  All I had to do was turn my eyes.  Where my eyes turned in desire, my heart followed.  Lift my head ever so slightly, shift my gaze back to Him and what I had let slip away, and in that one small moment, the one tiny glimmer of humbleness in a spark of repentance, GOD WAS THERE.

He swept back through my heart and wiped away the cobwebs of neglect.  Through my tears of brokenness and repentance, He restored my heart, my will, my mind.  He filled me again because He was always right there.  As His child, once sealed with His Spirit in faith through the blood of Christ, He never left me.  He just couldn't abide IN ME, LIVE THROUGH ME while I was preoccupied with self, with flesh, with the world.  Because the world hates me because I'm His (John 15:19--read this and your true alliances are really put in perspective!), and He loves me because I'm His, and the two just can't coexist together in one space, in one heart.  It always has to be one or the other. (James3:11-12)

So, like most vacations, I find myself slowing assimilating back into the life He has called me to live.  Full restoration of communion with God is accomplished when confession and repentance are offered and forgiveness accepted, but full restoration of the shambles you've made of your life in the process?  Well, that takes time.  It's part of the consequences of sin.  I can be in perfect communion with my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ AND still have to work through the mess He allowed me to make of myself at the same time.  The difference?

Now I have the joy I was searching for.  It's only found in Him and through Him.  It's only found in utter humility.  So the question begs?  How do you stay humble?  How do you stay in this bent state of awe to the God who would take you back, unconditionally, every time?  If I knew this answer, I might stop going on self-cations!  But I think the answer lies in spending daily intentional time in His presence.  The more I can't, won't, stop doing this, that's when the sliding away begins.  The very moment I stop entering into His presence is when I enter the presence of self, and this is why the Christ-filled life is hard.  We live our daily lives in a war zone, a rage of battles in the mind and body.  I can't let up for one moment.  I can't forget for one moment that God is near, that He is mine, and that the victory is His.  (Ephesians 6:12)

Victory! Joy!  I want these in the day to day.  I want to see what God sees when He looks at this life.  I want His eyes--to the see the world for it's potential to praise Him as it was created instead of seeing everything that's broken and fallen and wrong.  And until the day when I enter His presence for all eternity, I will struggle and fight and battle to see as God sees because the way He sees is full of joy and victory and wonder and excitement and all things pure and lovely, admirable, and praise-worthy.  Everything that is excellent!!! (Philippians 4:8) Who wouldn't want to see what God sees?

So I am left to discipline myself, my flesh, to the bending of the knee and the heart, to the humbling before the cross because the lower I become the more joy I find fills my every pore.  The less of me there is to perform, the more of God there is to shine.  With my face in the dirt, body pressed to the ground, trying so desperately to disappear, then the blood of the cross can wash over me, literally run right off of Him over my prostrate shell of flesh, and no one can see me.  They only see His blood.  His sacrifice.  His way.

And when others see Him, when my children see Him, when my husband sees Him, when Christ makes the difference, I am all JOY!  ALL JOY.  Because it's none of me and all of Him, and somehow, the way He's knit me together--knit us together--somehow, we are created to quiver with real joy when He is exalted.  So maybe all the days in between the highs and lows of life, all the mediocre mundane, can look something like this.... (hang with me here...)

6am the alarm goes off. Silent prayer with eyes closed that this is another day, another opportunity to love the Lord.  Maybe, in God's strength I can climb out of bed to do my quiet time, but if I don't, if the night was too long, and my body too tired, I will accept God's grace for this morning, and thank Him for another day to serve and try again.  7am Savannah comes in to wake us up. Silently thank the Lord for a vibrant little girl who loves life.  TV turned on, morning snack and juice cup delivered.  7:30 the day gets started.  Breakfasts are made, lunches packed if necessary, breakfast dishes washed, dishwasher unloaded to be reloaded.  Car packed for the day's needs (school, Bible study, play date, errands, park, etc.)  Silent shorts prayers offered all the while for people that pass through my mind.  Prayers of thanks for the breakfast provided.  Maybe some Bible verses read and discussed.  Moments of conversations with the children appreciated and wrapped in gratitude and prayer over each extra moment or brief second of godly wisdom possibly shared. If we're staying home, laundry commences, straightening of the house, pulling out and putting away of toys, clothes, etc. Maybe some play dough time or finger painting if I'm feeling extra artsy.  Maybe we laugh and play and sing silly songs or Bible songs and take time to point out things we are grateful for.  Teachable moments are recognized and caught and the Christ-filled life is lived out in front of my children.  Lunch happens.  Dishes get washed and put away.  Lunch mess cleaned up.  Play time after lunch for an hour or so until nap time.  Thanks to God is given at the meal, maybe another opportunity to read a little more Bible, discuss a Bible verse, or recap the mornings activities.  Maybe when we go outside, we start to list all the beauty of God's creation for which we are grateful, taking notice and being appreciative.  We see God together.  Rest/Nap time happens. Sometimes I rest, sometimes I do pilates, sometimes I just do more household chores.  I choose to turn off the TV and pick up my Bible.  I spend 5-10 minutes in communion with my Lord, more if I can spare.  If I can't, I accept the grace God offers and fall asleep myself if I need to.  Kids wake up.  We all snack and watch Wild Kratts together.  TV turns off.  Their self entertainment begins, and I kick into dinner prep mode.  Joey gets home, joyfully and lovingly greeted.  Dinner is served. Thanks to God for His provision is given. The kids wrestle with dad for 30 minutes or so.  I smile and silently thank the Lord for a husband who plays with his children, sending up prayers that this never stops.  I wash and put away dishes and leftovers, thanking the Lord that I can do this, so Joey has more time with the kids.  Thanking Him for leftovers and room in the fridge to keep it all.  Maybe 30 more minutes of family time then it's bed and bath routine.  Grateful for a husband who jumps in and helps out.  Spending precious time with the kids saying prayers, singing songs of praise, and taking advantage of those vulnerable, precious moments before bedtime when God opens the heart of a child to their parent.  Kids are in bed,--thank the Lord the kids are in bed!--, but instead of zoning out on the couch, maybe I sit and reconnect with my husband, or I choose my Bible instead of the TV, thanking the Lord that I have a little peace and quiet before another day begins.  Praying for a peaceful night's rest.  Basking in the peaceful sleep of a day full of joy.

A Day Full Of Joy.  Did you catch the difference?  Humility and Gratitude, lack of self and focus on Christ--it changes the entire day.  It can change the rest of my life.

A Picture is Worth a 1,000 Words

I've had so much on my mind and heart lately that I'm still sorting through thoughts and praying through life.  In the meantime, these two keep growing up!  I think this picture just about says it all...

Trouble on the left and Mischief on the right.  Pretty sure both pairs of those eyes are gonna break some hearts one day=)  This is my life, and even though I have my doubts some days, I LOVE IT!!!!

Easter Story Cookies

Ok, so I don't normally put stuff like this on my blog, but this idea is new to me and so fun and so meaningful at the same time, I needed to share it with all my mom friends=)  I received this idea in an email and these directions came as a .jpeg file, so I can't make the picture any bigger than you are seeing it below.  (I also can't give credit where credit is due because I have no idea where this idea generated.  A little shady considering wherever it came from can't spell the word "resurrection", but hey, grace to all, right?=)  However, if you would like me to email you the file yourself, let me know, and I will send it your way.  Such a special way to celebrate Christ's death and resurrection this Easter and leave a word picture in our little one's minds=)  Love y'all!

What Tool Are You?

Hard lesson to swallow:  Every mother is good at something, but no mother is good at everything.

Question: What is the something you are good at, and how will that something be useful to the kingdom of God through your children?  Because I firmly believe that God gave us the particular children He did for the particular reasons He has.  We just don't know God's mind=)  And in the process of seeking His mind, we learn more about Him and His plan for us, not just our children.

I'm learning more and more that my children are a tool in the hand of a big God to work me into the masterpiece He is still creating, and the vice versa is true as well.  I am a tool in the hand of a big God who is shaping my children into the masterpiece He wants them to be.  I am a tool.

I am a tool.....think about that.

If I am a tool, I have no control over myself.  And to be a good tool, I must relinquish myself  into the hands of the Craftsman, only He knows how to use me properly and effectively.  If I try to control myself, nothing gets accomplished.  Anyone besides God is less talented and less qualified to guide me for the work at hand.  So what kind of tool am I in the hands of God?  How has He fashioned me, and how is He using me to fashion my children and the others in my life?

I'm not a paintbrush.  I don't make life for my children colorful and fancy and fun and exciting.  I don't coat their days with crafts and fun.  I wrongly envy those that do.

I'm not a magnifying glass.  Every opportunity of my day is not intentionally crafted into a life lesson.  My children sit in long silences in the car sometimes.  I answer questions when asked, but don't ask them very often.  Every task in my life doesn't have a deeper, spiritual meaning.  I wrongly envy those that do.

I'm really not sure what tool I am yet.  Maybe someone with an outside view could let me know.  I do know this though.  I think I know the message I want my children to learn.  The Holy Spirit whispered this thought to me today, and I'm still unpacking it in my brain, but here it is.  I want my kids to grow up knowing that Life is good, but God is better.

Let me explain.  You see, I don't need my children to be rocket scientists.  I don't need them to be world renown theologians reaching the far ends of the earth for Christ.  I just need them to love God.  I don't need them to please me.  I just want them to please God.

And in the midst of God's pursuit of the hearts of my children, I want them to know that life is good!  It's hard, but it's good too.  It can be fun and full of joy when you are living to simply love God.

Life is good, but God is better.
Choosing to spend your life in the pursuit of knowledge is good, but choosing to spend your life in the pursuit of the knowledge of God is better!
Choosing to serve others is good, but choosing to serve God is better!
Choosing to love a husband or wife is good, but choosing to love God abandoned is so much better!
Choosing to find a career focused around your strengths is good, choosing to let God use your strengths for His purposes is so much better!

The best part of all? When you choose God first, He often blesses you in return with all the "good" things as well!  You get the best of both worlds when you choose God first.

I always see life in extremes, constantly looking for the balance of those extremes, so maybe God is using me like a level in the life of my children, trying to help them balance because the Lord knows that's how He uses them in my life--as a constant reminder of what and how things can get so out of balance so quickly.  With just a nudge one way or the other, the bubble of life is floating in the wrong direction.  I need the Creator's steady hand to balance my life just so, and in the process, through me, He will balance the lives of my children as well.

So today, for now, I see myself as a level in the hand of God.  He's showing me how to balance.  I'm sure he can use me at different times in life as many other tools in the life of my children.  I look at my own parents and think of the days they were hammers, nailing the truths of God into my life over and over again, despite their and my pain.  I see how they were tape measures in my life, constantly being a point of reference for just how far I needed to go or long I needed to endure. They were also often times the wrench that gripped tight and twisted me out of a tight situation.  They have been the sandpaper that annoyingly rubbed away the rough spots in my life, leaving behind a smooth, finished surface.

My parents have been and really continue to be many tools in my life.  I can only hope to be just as useful in the hands of the Master Craftsman in the lives of my own children as they were and are in mine.  Time will tell.

For these days, for now, I think I am a level, constantly trying to find the right balance and center to life.  Trying to find where the mark needs to be made on the walls of the hearts of my children.  Finding the point where a nail of truth needs to be hammered home.  God is using me as His level.

How is God using you?

 

Savannah Prays

So I've been wanting to post this for a while, but leave it to my most wonderful babysitter in the whole wide world to finally get a decent video of it=)

I'm not sure where my daughter learned to pray like this (and let me assure you, this is only the first few minutes of what is usually at least five minutes long).  Let me emphasize--we DO NOT pray like this at home! I would love to take some credit for this, but this is totally not of Joey or me, so I will chalk yet another thank you up to BSF and their fantastic children's program, and I will also say, I think my daughter might have a gifting in prayer if there is such a thing.

You be the judge.  Again, this is just the opening...

So I've been praying for God to teach me how to pray more effectively and more diligently and more genuinely.  Think maybe He's trying to tell me something through this sweet girl?  Genuine thanks, prayers for unity, blessings for others, scripture?  Not sure I could come up with a better outline=)

Oh how the Lord must wish we could all keep our child-like hearts and attitudes!  May I never become so prideful that I can't be as an innocent child before my Lord.  Happy praying=)

The Priceless

 (He's my skinny, mischievous little boy who just starting giving me the sweetest, real kisses in the past few weeks.  Melts my heart into butter.  She's my beautiful drama queen, always full of silliness and smiles, so I couldn't help but post this pout=)  She's my joy and sunshine--always has been.)

So, I haven't written much about my two munchkins lately.  Truth be told, we stay so busy, I don't have much time to write at all!!!  I feel so much like Mary, the mother of our Lord, pondering and trying to treasure all these things in my heart, praying that one day God will help me recall them and put them on paper in some format.  But today my heart sang, and this is why...

Saturdays have become my favorite day of the week now that Joey is home ALL DAY.  We eat family breakfast together, usually run a few needed errands together, then hang out at the house just soaking up the opportunity to be in each others' presence, fiddling around doing any odds and ends a home requires.

Today as I was busy prepping for the spring consignment sale, Savannah and Weston were busying themselves picking holly berries and placing them in a watering can.  This is the conversation I overheard:
Weston: "Sissy, I love you." (Completely out of the blue and unprompted!)
Savannah: "I love you too, Weston.  And we are going to be each other's friends forever and ever, right?"
Weston: "Right."

My heart thrilled and soured and dipped and twirled inside my chest!  It was such a matter-of-fact, Fox and the Hound type moment.  They are only 2 and 4, but I have prayed from the day Savannah was born that her brothers and/or sisters would be her best friends the rest of her life.  That God would give me the wisdom to somehow instill a sisterly/brotherly love for each other from the start of their relationship.  I don't want Savannah to grow up thinking she needs to be Weston's second mother, and I don't want Weston feeling like she is.  I want Savannah to grow up feeling valued and loved by Weston, and he respected and honored by her.  These deep desires start NOW.   I plant these seeds daily and earnestly at the leading of the Holy Spirit.

To be honest, I'm not sure how to even go about doing this, but I do the best I know how, responding as the Lord leads, and I try to think about how settling what seem like inconsequential arguments between them now is creating the building blocks for fostering that relationship and those future conversations.  So needless to say, this overheard treasure was deeply special.  One to be captured and hung in the Memory Hall (as I like to think of this blog.)

A little bit later, Weston is off doing his own thing, and Savannah walks herself out to the curb at the front of our house.  "Savannah, where are you going?" I yelled from the garage.  "I'm going to go sit down and talk to God for a while, Mom."  Really?!?  Does it get any sweeter than that?  "Ok honey, that sounds like a great idea."  Smiling to myself, I returned to work, and marveled in the sweet nothings of voice and sound that were coming from her direction.  Words I could not hear, but words nonetheless to our Heavenly Father.  I'm glad she felt the freedom to let me know and to just go---and talk to God.  May she always be wrapped in that freedom.  May those conversations only increase as her life moves on.

These are the priceless days, the priceless moments when time stands still and all is right with the world, even if just for a moment.  These are the truly priceless things.

(This one's for my brother Matthew--pretty sure she's pulling some form of the raptor pose in this pic=)